TO THE VENERABLE HORACE BINNEY, LL.D., THE HEAD OF THE BAR IN THE UNITED STATES,)* STILL IN THE FULL POSSESSION OF HIS VIGOROUS AND WELL-CULTIVATED INTELLECT, IN HIS NINETY-FOURTH YEAR, I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME, IN LASTING iR.iL XiiATUC-E 0F THE INTEREST WHICH HE HAS LONG TAKEN IN THE LITERARY LABORS OF HIS FRIEND, S. AUSTIN ALLIBONE. PHILADELPHIA, Feb. 8, I873. r the verdict of Hon. CHARLES SUMNER, LL.D., of the Boston Bar, and Hon. WILLIAM M. EVARTS, LL D., of the New York Bar, verbally expressed to the writer. PREFACE. SHORTLY after the inception of my project of a DICTIONARY OF AUTHORS, I determined, if life and health were continued, to supplement that work by a copious selection of QUOTATIONS from some of the works of the authors recorded in that register. The POETICAL QUOTATIONS are now offered to the public; and are to be followed by PROSE QUOTATIONS: the three DICTIONARIES -AUTHORS, POETRY, PROSE-representing and partly constituting a literature marvellous for its extent, variety, and value. The advantages of well-arranged and easily-consulted extracts from the best writings of the best authors are too obvious to need rehearsal; and the alphabetical distribution of the names of authors, and copious Indexes of Autnors, Subjects, and First Lines, carry with them their own recommendation. A few words may be devoted to several of the most prominent subjects: I. "AUTHORS." — Opinions and criticisms upon II6 writers, by 56 authors, are quoted. The writers commented upon are: Addison, Ariosto, Aristotle, Bacon, Berkeley, Boileau, Boyle, Broome, Budgell, Burgess, Burnet, Burns, Cartesius, Cato, Cervantes, Chatterton, Chaucer, Cibber, Cicero, Coleridge, Condorcet, Congreve, Corneille, Cowley, Crabbe, Craggs, Crashaw, Dante, Defoe, Denham, Dennis, Dionysius, Dryden, Duck, D'Urfey, Epictetus, Erasmus, Etherege, Eusden, Evans, Flecknoe, Fletcher, Franklin, Galileo, Gay, Granville, Harvey, Heylin, Hoadly, Hobbes, Homer, Horace, Jonson, Knags, Lamb, Lee, Locke, Longinus, Lopez, Lucan, Maevius, Martial, Martyn, Milbourn, Milton, Moliere, Moore, More, Newcastle, Newton, Ogilby, Ovid, Paine, Parnell, Petrarch, Pindar, Plato, Plutarch, Pope, Quarles, Rabelais, Racine, Raleigh, Ralph, Rochefoucauld, R;oscommon, Rousseau, Rowe, SaintAndre, Sappho, Scarlatti, Scott, Settle, Shadwell, Shakspeare, Sheridan, Short, Sidney, Skelton, Sloane, Socrates, Solon, Spenser, Swift, Theobald, Theocritus, Thomson, Vida, Virgil, Voiture, Waller, Walton, Withers, Wycherly, Young, and Zoilus. The commentators are: Addison, Akenside, Basse, Blackmore, Browning, Brydges, Bulwer, Byron, Campbell, Canning, Coleridge Collins, Cowley, Cowper, Creech, Denham, Dryden, Elliott, Fenton, Gay) Granville, Hall, Harte, Henley, Hill, Holmes, Horace, Johnson, Jonson, Lamb, Lyttelton, Milton, Moore, Parnell, Philips, Pope, Prior, Raleigh, Roscommon, Sandys, Savage, Shakspeare, Sheffield, Shelley, Shenstone, Sydney Smith, Southey, Spenser, Swift, Thomson, Tickell, Waller, Wolcott, Wordsworth, and Young. (xiii) xiv PREAE4 CE. These annotations are fitly supplemented by the articles "AUTHORSHIP " and "CRITICISM" (under which last will be found I70 quotations). II. "MORNING."-One of the finest compositions in the writings of the late Daniel Webster is a letter on the morning, written to Mrs. J. V. Paige, and dated at Richmond, April 29, five o'clock A.M., I847. (See Private Correspondence of Daniel Webster, i857, ii. 240.) "Beautiful descriptions of the'morning' abound in all languages.... Milton has- fine descriptions of morning, but not so many as Shakespeare, from whose writings pages of the most beautiful images, all founded on the glory of the morning, might be filled," etc. Under this title 152 extracts, from 38 authors, will be found. III. "RIvERs." —In his very interesting Recollections of Past Life (1872, chapter ii.), Sir Henry Holland remarks, " Much more I could say of rivers, as giving to travel the greatest charm of landscape, while affording lessons in geology and physical geography invaluable to science. Even the simple brook, followed step by step to its course, illustrates, in the windings of its channel, its depths and deposits, and the sections which its banks disclose, many of the grandest phenomena and conclusions of geology. In the poetry of every age the flow of river-waters has been a favourite theme,-one symbol of the life and destinies of man." The reader will find 94 quotations under this head. "BIRDS" are celebrated in 260 passages by 45 authors; "LAW" contains 194, "LOVE" 565, "POLITICS" 157, "SLEEP" 242, "WOMAN" 29I, and "YOUTH" 227 quotations. In the whole (as stated on the title-page) a35 subjects are illustrated, by 550 authors, in I3,600 quotations, which may be read in course, or consulted separately, as occasion serves. S. AUSTIN ALLIBONE. PHILADELPHIA, February 8, I873. POETICAL QUOTATIONS. DICTIONARY OF POETICAL QUOTATIONS. ABSENCE. Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, Since she must go, and I must mourn, come My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee: Since she must go, and I must mourn, come Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, night, Environ me with darkness whilst I write. And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. GOLDSMITH: Travel/er. DONNE., Short absence hurt him more, Winds murmur'd through the leaves your short And made his wound far greater than before; delay, Absence not long enough to root out quite And fountains o'er their pebbles chid your All love, increases love at second sight. stay: THOMAS MAY: He-zry I. But, with your presence cheer'd, they cease to But,, Short retirement urges sweet return. MILTON. And walks wear fresher green at your return. DRYDEN. Oh! couldst thou but know With what a deep devotedness of Nwoe She vows for his return with vain devotion I wept thy absence, o'er and o'er again pays. Pays DRYDEN. Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, Forced from her presence, and condemn'd to And memory, like a drop that night and day live! Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away! Unwelcome freedom, and unthank'd reprieve. MOORE: LaZla Rook/'. DRYDEN. Ye flowers that droop, forsaken by the spring; Love reckons hours for months, and days for Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing, years; Ye trees that fade, when autumn heats remove, And every little absence is an age. Say, is not absence death to those who love? DRYDEN: Aniphzytrion. POPE. As some sad turtle his lost love deplores, His friends beheld, aiid pity'd him in vain, Thus far from Delia to the winds I mourn, For what aclvice can ease a lover's pain? Alike unheard, unpitied, and forlorn. Absence, the best expedient they could find, Alike unheard, unpitied, and forlorn. POPE. Might save the fortune, if not cure the mind. DRYDEN: FabLen6gTs. Fate some future bard shall join In sad similitude of griefs to mine; His absence from his mother oft he'll mourn, Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore, And, with his eyes, look wishes to return. And image charms he must behold no more. DRYDEN: _7tvenal, Sat. II. POPE: Eloisa. 2 (17) I8 _ ABSENCE. -A CTORS.-A D VE1RSITY. In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love; ACTORS. At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove; One tragic sentence if I dare deride, But Delia always; albsent fi-om her sight, But Delia always; absent from her sight, hich Betterton's grave action dignified; Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight. Or well-mouth'd Booth with emphasis proPOPE: Pastorals. claims, Though but perhaps a mustel-roll of names. In vain you tell your parting lover You wish fair winds may waft him over: Alas! what winds can happy prove, Is it not monstrous that this player here, That bear me far from what I love? But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, PRIOR. Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd? I charge thee loiter not, but haste to bless me: SS AisPEARa. SHAKSPEARF. Think with what eager hopes, what rage, I burn, For every tedious moment how I mourn: Think how I call thee cruel for thy stay, ADVERSITY. And break my heart with grief for thy delay. ROWE. The gods in bounty work up storms about us, That give mankind occasion to exert'What! keep a week away? seven days and Their hidden strength, and throw out into pracnights? tice Eightscore eight hours? and lovers' absent Virtes which shun the day. ADD ISON. hours, ~More tedious than the dial eightscore times? The rugged metal of the mine Oh, weary reckoning! Must burn before its surface shine; SHAKSPEARE. But plunged within the furnace flame, It bends and melts-though still the same. O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, BYRON: Ginozer. Leave not the mansion so long tenantless; Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall, By adversity are wrought -And leave no memory of what it was! The greatest works of admiration, Repair me with thy presence, Sylvia; And all the fair examples of renown Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain. Out of distress and misery are grown. SHAKSPEARE. DANIEL: Onz the Earlc of Soztz1Matvon. Tho' I am forced thus to absent myself Some souls we see Grow hard and stiffen with adversity. From all I love, I shall contrive some means, Grow hard and stiffen with adversity. DRYDEN.'Some friendly intervals, to visit thee. SOUTHERN: Sparln.Dame. Aromatic plants bestow No spicy fiagrance while they grow; Looking my love, I go fiom place to place, But, crush'dc or trodden to the ground, Like a young fawn that late hath lost the Diffuse their balmy sweets around. hind; GOLDSMITH. And seek each where, where last I saw her face, Whose image yet I carry fresh in mind. By how much from the top of wond'rous glory, SPENSER. Strongest of mortal men, To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n. Since I did leave the presence of my love, MILTON. Mlmany long weary days I have out-worn, The scene of beauty and delight is changed: And many nights that slowly seem'cd to move No roses bloom upon ny fading cheek, Their sad protract from evening until morn. No n my SPENSER. No laughing graces wanton in my eyes; But haggard Grief, lean-looking sallow Care, For since mine eye your joyous sight did miss, And pining Discontent, a rueful train, My cheerful day is turn'd to cheerless night. Dwell on my brow, all hideous and forlorn. SPENSER, ROWFE. AD VICE. -A TEv OCTA TiON. -A E_ IC7ION7. 19 Some, the prevailing malice of the great MAIen (Unhappy men!) or adverse fate Can counsel, and give comfort to that grief Sunk deep into the gulfs of an afflicted state. Which they themselves not feel; but tasting it. ROSCOMBION. Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage: Co15t news for me: Thus Cokll newT1-T ~IOSSO1 s for me: buFetter strong madness in a silken th —ead Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, Char ache with air, a agony ith orls. Charm ache with air, and agony with words. Anld caterpillars eat 1my leaves away. SIIHASPEARE. SHIAKSPEARE. Direct not him whose way himself wrill choose; SWieet are the uses of audversity;'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath w;iit lWhich, like the toad, ugly and venomous, thou lose. Wears yet a precious jewel in his head: SItiAKSPEARIE. And this our life, exempt fiom public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running Mishaps are master'd hy adrice discreet, bhrooks, And counsel mitigates the greatest smart. Sermons in stones, and good in everything. SPENSER. SHAKSPEA RE. Let me embrace these sour adversities; AFFECTATION. For wise men say it is the wrisest course. There affectation, with a sickly mien, SHAKSPEA RE. Shows in her cheeks the roses of eighteen; Practised to lisp and hang the head aside, His overthlrow heap'd happiness upon him; Faints into airs, and langu1ishes with pride. For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little. SHAKSPEARE. AFFLICTION. AD)VICE. In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the mifost triecl, most troubled, and distress'd. Thou, heedlful of andvice, secure proceed; CRABBE. lMy praise the precept is, be thine the deed. POPE. We bear it calmly, though a ponderous wroe, And still adore the hand that gives the blow. \There's the man who counsel call bestow, POMIPRET. Unbiass'd or by favour or by spite; Not dully prepossess'd, nor blindly right? Heaven is not always angry when He strikes, POPE. But most chastises those whom most I-IHe likes. P'OMFRET. Fear not the anger of the wise to raise; Those best call bear reproof who merit praise. The good are hetter made by ill, POPE. As odours crushed are sweeter still. ROGEc.RS:.zcqu elh'ie. In vain Thalestris wvith reproach assails; For who call move, when fair Belinda fails? Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, POPE. And thou art wedded to calamity. SHAKSPEARE. I find, quoth Mat, reproof is vain! AWho first offend will first complain. Hencefolth I'll bear PRIOR. Affliction till it do cry out itself, Enough, enough, and die. A wTrtchecd soul, bruised wiith adversity, SHAISPERE. SHAKSPEARE. We bid be quiet, wvhen wve hear it cry; But were we burdlen'cl vith like weight of pain, Affliction is the good man's shining scenle; As much, or more, wve should ourselves com- Prosperity conceals his brightest ray; plain. As night to stars, \vwoe lustre gives to man. SHAKSPEARE. YorUcNG: Nio'Iz T /oZugi's. 20 A4GE. AGE. The spring, like youth, fresh blossoms doth pro, duce, Why shouldst thou try to hide thyself in youth? duce, Impartial Proserpine beholds the truth; But autumn makes them ripe, and fit for use: Impartial Proserpine beholds the truth; So age a mature mellowness doth set And laughing at so vain and fond a task, Will strip thy hoary noddle of its mask. On the green promises of youthful heat. ADDISON. SIR J. DENHAM. We'll mutually forget Age, like ripe apples, on earth's bosom drops; The warmth of youth and frowardness of age. While force our youth, like fruits, untimely ADDISON. crops. SIR J. DENHAM. Young men soon give, and soon forget affronts; To elder years to be discreet and grave, Old age is slow in both. ADDISON: Cibo. Then to old age maturity she gave. SIR J. DENHAM. Now wasting years my former strength confound, Who this observes may in his body find And added woes have bow'd me to the ground: this observes, may in his ody find Decrepit age, but never in his mind. Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain, And mark the ruins of no common man. SIR J. DENHAM. BROOME. Of Age's avarice I cannot see What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What colour, ground, or reason there can be; What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinlle deeper on the brow? Is it not folly, when the way we ride To view each loved one blotted from life's page t, journey to provide? And be alone on earth as I am now. SIR J. DENHAM. Before the Chastener humbly let me bow Not from grey hairs authority doth flow, O'er hearts divided, and o'er hopes destroy'd. Nor from bald heads, nor from a wrinkled brow; BYRON: C/ilde Harona'. But our past life, when virtuously, spent, Must to our age those happy fruits present.'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,ose happy fruits present. And coming events cast their shadows before. SIR 3. DENHAM. CAMPBELL: Loc/iel's fVZarning. Age is froward, uneasy, scrutinous, Nor can the snow that age does shed Hard to be pleased, and parsimonious. Upon1 thy rev'rend head, SIR J. DENHAM. Quench or allay the noble fire within;, Authority kept up, old age secures, 13But all that youth call be thou art. BClowLay net r. Whose dignity as long as life endures. SICOWLY J. DENAM Now then the ills of age, its pains, its care, The drooping spirit for its fate prepare; Old husbanclmen I at Sabinum know, And each affection failing, leaves the heart Who for another year dig, plough, and sow; Loosed from life's charm, and willing to depart. For never any man was yet so old, CRABBE. But hoped his life one winter more would hold. Our nature here is not unlike our wine; SIR J. DENHAM. Some sorts, when old, continue brisk and fine: Age by degrees invisibly doth creep, So age's gravity may seem severe, Nor do we seem to die, but fall asleep. But nothing harsh or bitter ought t' appear. SR J. DENHAM. SIR J. DENHAM. Those trifles wherein children take delight Old age, with silent pace, comes creeping on, Grow nauseous to the young man's appetite, Nauseates the praise which in her youth she won, And from those gaieties our youth requires And hates the muse by which she was undone, To exercise their minds, our age retires. DRYDEN. SIR J. DENHAIM. Thus daily changing, by degrees I'd waste, Age's chief arts, and arms, are to grow wise; Still quitting ground by unperceived decay, Virtue to know, and known, to exercise. And steal myself from life, and melt away. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. AGE. 21 Prudence, thou vainly in our youth art sought, Age has not yet And with age purchased, art too dearly bought: So shrunk my sinews, or so chill'd my veins, We're past the use of wit for which we toil: But conscious virtue in my breast remains. Late fiuit, and planted in too cold a soil. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. OWere I no queen, did you my beauty weigh, Our green youth copies what grey sinners act, My youth in bloom, your age in its decay. When age commends the fact. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. His youth ad age Now leave these joys, unsuiting to thy age, His youth and age To a fresh comer, and resign the stage. All of a piece throughout, and all divine. To a fresh comer, and resign the stage. DRYDEN. D RYDEN. Just in the gate Yet unimpair'd with labours, or with time, Dwelt pale diseases and repining age. Your age but seems to a new youth to climb. DRYD. DRYDEN. Beroe but now I left; whom, pined with pain, He look'd in years, yet in his years were seenut now I left; whom, pined with pa A youthful vigor, and autumnal green. Her age and anguish from these rites detain. A youthful vigor, and autumnal green. DRYDEN. You season still with sports your serious hours, O'er whom Time gently shakes his wings of For age but tastes of pleasures, youth devours. down, DRYvDEN. Till with his silent sickle they are mown. DRYDEN. This advantage youth from age hath won, As not to be outridden though outrun. Jove, grant me length of life, and years good DRYDEN. store Heap on my bended back. When the hoary head is hid in snow, Heap on my bended ack. YDEN. The life is in the leaf, and still between The fits of falling snows appears the streaky The feeble old, indulgent of their ease. green. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Thus then my loved Euryalus appears; What, start at this! when sixty years have He looks the prop of my declining years. spread DRYDEN. Their grey experience o'er thy hoary head? Is this the all observing age could gain? Of no distemper, of no blast he died, Or hast thou known the world so long in vain? But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long; DRYDEN. Even wonder'd at, because he dropt no sooner. So noiseless would I live, such death to find: Fate seem'ld to wind him up for fourscore years; Like timely fiuit, not shaken by the wind, Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more: But ripely dropping from the sapless bough. Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still. DRYDEN. DRYDEN: ~rEzeSzi. Time has made you dote, and vainly tell Of arms imagined'in your lonely cell: These I wielded while my bloom was warm, Go! be the temple and the gods your care; Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time o'erPermit to men the thought of peace and war. snow'd my head. DRYDEN, DRvDEN. Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop, A look so pale no quartane ever gave; Nor do his wings with sickly feathers droop. My dwindled legs seem crawling to a grave. DRYDEN. DRYDEN: yisvenalZ And sin's black dye seems blanch'd by age to These are the effects of doting age, virtue. Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over caution. DRYDEN. DRYDEN: Sebas/tiaz. 2 2 A4 GE. Ripe age bade him surrender late So mayst thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop His life and long good fortune unto final fate. Into thy mother's lap; or be with ease FAIRFAX. Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd. MILTON. How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, And may at last my weary age' A youth of labour with an age of ease Find out the peaceful hermitage, GOLDSIMITH: Desertiled Villae. The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days Of every star that heaven doth shew Have led their children through the mirthful And every herb that sips the dew; maze; Till old experience do attain And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, To something like prophetic strain. Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore. MILTON: Ii Penseroso. GOLDSMITH: 5T;aveller. Such drowsy sedentary souls have they An age that melts in unperceived decay, Who would to patriarchal years live on, And glides in modest innocence away. Fix'd to hereditary clay, DR. S. JOHNSON: Vanity of fzxinzanz Wishes. And know no climate but their own. In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, NorRIs. Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage You've play'd, and loved, and ate, and drank flow, your fill: And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show. WiValk sober off before a sprightlier age DR. S. JOHNSON: Vanity of lrnlzan z/Vishes. Comes tittering on, and shoves you from the Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage. stage: DR. S. JOHNSON: Vanizty of Human Wiish/es. Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease, Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please. The still returning tale, ancl lingering jest, POPE. Perplex the fawning niece, and pamper'd guest, While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days, sneer, And steal thyself from life by slow decays. And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear. POPE. DR. S. JOHNSON: Vanity of lumir anrz WizsesD. IWasting years that wither human race, Thou must outlive Exhaust thy spirits, and thy arms unbrace. Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will POPE. change He now, observant of the parting ray, To wither'd, weakM, and grey. Eyes the calm sunset of thy various day. POPE. Better at home lie bed-rid, idle, Better at home lie bed-rid, idle, Has life no sourness, drawn so near its end? Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age outworn. POPE. MILTON. Till length of years, Why will you break the sabbath of my days, Now sick alike of envy and of praise? And sedentary numbness, craze my limbs POPE. To a contemptible old age obscure. MILTON. In years he seem'd, but not impair'd by years. POPE. To what can I be useful, wherein serve, But to sit idle on the household hearth, The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the sage, A burd'nous drone, to visitants a gaze? And boasting youth, and narrative old age. MILTON. POPE. My hasting days fly on with full career, But if you'll prosper, marl what I advise, But my late spring no bud nor blossom sheweth. Whom age and long experience render wise. MILTON. POPE. AGE. 23 Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Till future infancy, baptized by thee, Charm'd the small-pox, or chased old age away, Grow ripe in years, and old in piety. Who would not scorn what housewife's cares PRIOR. produce? Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? Then old age and experience, hand in hand, POPE. Lead him to death and make him understand, After a search so painful and so long, Propp'd on his staff, and stooping as he goes, That all his life he had been in the wrong. A painted mitre shades his furrow'd brows; ROCHESTER. The god, in this decrepit form array'd, The gardens enterd, and the fruits surveyd. Boys must not have th' ambitious care of men; The gardens enter'd, and the fruits survey'd. N POPE. Nor men the weak anxieties of age. IROSCOMMON. She still renews the ancient scene; Forgets the forty years betwveen; Age sits with decent grace upon his visage, oAwkwardly goay and oddly merry; And worthily becomes his silver locks; wer scarf pale pink, her head-knot cherry. He wears the marks of many years well spent, PRIOR. Of virtue, truth well tried, and wxvise experience. ROWE: yane S/hore. And on this forehead (where your verse has said delighted, and the graces playd) Thou, full of days, like weighty shocks of corn, The loves delighted, and the graces play'd) The loe. In season reap'd, shalt to thy grave be borne. Insulting age will trace his cruel way,V And leave sad marks of his destructive sway. SANDYS. PRIOR. Nor should their age by years be told, So shall I court thy dearest truth hose souls more swift than motion climb, So shall I court thy dearest truth And check the tardy flight of time. When beauty ceases to engage: So thinking on thy charming youth, GEORGE SANDYS. I'll love it o'er again in age. On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage. Kindness itself too weak a charm will prove SIR W. SCOTT: Lady of the Lake. To raise the feeble fires of aged love. PRIOR. Hard toil can roughen form and face, And want can quench the eye's bright grace; By one countless sum of woes opprest, Nor does old age a wrinkle trace Hoary with cares, and ignorant of rest, More deeply than despair. We find the vital springs relax'd and worn: SIR W. SCOTT: Mllamziolz. Thus, through the round of age, to childhood we return. Thus pleasures fade away; PRIOR. Youth, talents, beauty thus decay, And leave us dark, forlorn, and gray. By weak'ning toil and hoary age o'ercome, SIR W. SCOTT: Malrsiaon. See thy decrease, and hasten to thy tomb. PRIOR. Thou hast not youth or age; But as it were an after-dinner sleep, Then, in full age, and hoary holiness, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Retire, great teacher, to thy promised bliss: Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Untouch'd thy tomb, uninjured be thy dust, Of palsy'd eld: and when thou'rt old and rich, As thy own fame among the future just! Thou'st neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, PRIOR. To make thy riches pleasant. SHAKSPEARE. The remnant of his days he safely past, Nor found they lagg'd too slow, nor flew too fast; You are old: He made his wish with his estate comply, Nature in you stands on the very verge'Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die. Of her confine. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 24 A GE. Though now this grained face of mine be hid I have lived long enough: my way of life In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf: And all the conduits of my blood froze up, And that which should accompany old age, Yet hath my night of life some memory. As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, SHAKSPEARE. I must not look to have. SHAKSPEARE. Nature, as it grows again tow'rds earth, Nature, as it grows again tow'rdsearth, You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. sou see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE.'Tis our first intent Let him keep To shake all cares and business from our age, A hundred knights; yes, that on ev'ry dream, While we unburthen'd crawl tow'rd death. Each buz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, SHAKSPEARE. He may enguard his dotage. SHAKSPEARE. What should we speak of When we are old as you? When we shall hear Come, my lorc; The rain and wind beat dark eceber. We will bestow you in some better place,The rain and wind beat dark December.. SHIASEARE. Fitter for sickness and for crazy age. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Youth no less becomes 0 heavens! The light and careless livery that it wears, If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Than settled age his sables and his weeds, Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, Importing health and graveness. Make it your cause. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. How ill white hairs become a fool and jester! I thought the remnant of mine age I have long dreamd'd of such a kind of man, Should have been cherished by her childlike So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane. duty., SHAKSPEARE.SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The sixth age shifts Would some part of my young years Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, Might but redeem the passage of your age!- With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale For his shrunk shanks. SHAKSPEARE. Her infinite variety. SHASPEAE SHAKSPEARE. Last scene of all, Eighty odd years of sorrow have. I seen, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of Is second childishness and mere oblivion; teen. Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Let not old age disgrace my high desire, At your age O heavenly soul, in human shape contain'd! The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble, waits uOld wood inflamed doth yield the bravest fire, And waits upon the judgment. SHAKSPEARE. ~When younger doth in smoke his virtue spend. SIR P. SIDNEY. Let's take the instant by the forward top: From pert to stupid sinks supinely down, For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees In youth a coxcomb, and in age a clown. Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of time SPECTATOR. Steals, ere we call effect them. Steals, ere we can effect them. Dotard, said he, let be thy deep advise, SHWKSPEARE. Seems that through many years thy wits thee An old man, broken with the storms of state, fail, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: And that weak eld hath left thee nothing wise, Give him a little earth for charity. Else never should thy judgment be so frail. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER: iFaerie Queene. A GE.-A GONVY. — GRICUL TURE. 25 We now can form no more Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures; Long schemes of life as heretofore. That life is long which answers life's great end: SWIFT. The time that bears no fruit deserves no name; The man of wisdom is the man of years. Deaf, giddy, helpless, left alone, YOUNG: o'igt 7tzoug-/ts. To all my friends a burden grown. SWIFT. When once men reach their autumn, sickly joys Wrinkles undistinguished pass, Fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees, For I'm ashamed to use a glass. At every little breath misfortune blows, SWIFT. Till, left quite naked of their happiness, In the chill blasts of winter they expire. This day then let us not be toldUNG. That you are sick, and I grown old; Nor think on our approaching ills, And talk of spectacles and pills. SWIFT. Thee I have miss'd, and thought it long, deprived Thy presence; agony of love! till now Though you, and all your senseless tribe, felt, nor shall be twice. Could art, or time, or nature bribe MILTON. To make you look like beauty's queen, And hold forever at fifteen, Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er, bloom of youth can ever blind To smart and agonize at every pore. No bloom of youth can ever blind The cracks and wrinkles of your mind: All men of sense will pass your door, Dost thou behold my poor distracted heart And crowd to Stella's at fourscore. Thus rent with agonizing love and rage, SWIFT. And ask me, what it means? Art thou not false? ROwE: yalze Shlor e. Age too shines out, and, garrulous, recounts The feats of youth. Betwixt them both they have done me to dy THOMSON: Seasons. Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborn The tree of deepest root is found handeling, That death were better than such agony Least willing still to quit the ground; therefore said y ancient sages As grief and fury unto me did bring.'Twas therefore said by ancient sages SPENSER: FIAerie Queene. That love of life increased with years, So much that in our latter stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, AGRICULTURE. The greatest love of life appears. Retreat betimes MRS. THRALE: T7'ree WIasnitzs. To thy paternal seat, the Sabine field, The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Where the great Cato toil'd with his own hands. Lets in new light through chinks that time has ADDISON. made; The glebe untill'd might plenteous crops have Stronger by weakness, wiser men become borne; As they draw near to their eternal home. Rich fruits and flow'rs, without the gardener's WALLER. pains, But an old age serene and bright Might ev'ry hill have crown'd, have honour'd all And lovely as a Lapland night the plains. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Shall lead thee to thy grave. WORDSWORTH. Through all the soil a genial ferment spreads, Regenerates the plants, and new adorns the'Tis greatly wise to know before we're told, meads. The melancholy news that we grow old. SIR R. BLACKMORE. YOUNG. A race Like our shadows, Of proud-lined loiterers, that never sow, Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines. Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a plough. YOUNG: Nigozt Thtough fs.. CHAPMAN. 2* 26 A GRICUL TURE. Ask'd if in husbandry he ought did know,- When the fiery suns too fiercely play, To plough, to plant, to reap, to sow. And shriveli'd herbs on with'ring stems decay, CHAUCER. The wary ploughman, on the mountain's brow, As Hesiod sings, spread waters o'er thy field, Undams his wat'ry stores; huge torrents fow; And a most just and glad increase'twill yield. Temp'ring the thirsty fever of the field. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Pales no longer swell'd the teeming grain, Aslikni s, Nor Phoebus fed his oxen on the plain. Whence, in short space, itself the cluster shows, Nor Phbus fed his oxen on te plain. And from earth's moisture, mixt with sunbeams, grows. Quintius here was born, SIR J. DENHAM. Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows worn, Who hath a ploughland casts all his seed corn Met by his trembling wife, returning home, there, And rustically joy'd, as chief of Rome. And yet allows his ground more corn to bear. DRYDEN. JOHN DONNE. From ploughs and harrows sent to seek renown, No fences parted fields, nor marks nor bo~unds They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town. DRYDEN. Distinguish'd acres of litigious grounds.dman appeard RYDEN. The royal husbandman appear'd, And plough'dcl, and sow'd, and till'd; Apulian farms, for the rich soil admired, The thorns he rooted out, the rubbish clear'd, And thy large fields, where falcons may be tired. And blest th' obedient field. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Much labour is required in trees; Men plough with oxen of their own Well must the ground be digg'd, and better Their small paternal field of corn. dress'd, DRYDEN. New soil to make, and meliorate the rest. DRYDEN. The field is spacious I design to sow, With oxen far unfit to draw the plough. Of the same soil their nursery prepare DRYDEN. With that of their plantation, lest the tree Translated should not with the soil agree. No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruning~DRYDEN. hook the vine. DRYDEN. Better gleanings their worn soil can boast 1b~.. ~~~The teeming earth, yet guileless of the plough, Than the crab vintage of the neighb'ring coast. eming earth, y DRYDEN. And unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow. DRYDEN. When the Nile from Pharian fields is fled, The fat manure with heavunly fire is warm'd. The sweating steers unharness'd from the yoke DRYDEN. 3Bring back the crooked plough. DRYDEN. That the spent earth may gather heart again, An ox that waits the coming blow, And, better'd by cessation, bear the grain. DRYDEN. Old and unprofitable to the plough. DRYDEN. Next, fenced with hedges and deep ditches round, Exclude th' encroaching cattle from the ground. Who can cease to admire DRYDEN. The ploughman consul in his coarse attire? DRYDEN. The crooked plough, the share, the tow'ring height The lab'ring swain Of wagons, and the cart's unwieldy weight; Scratch'd with a rake a furrow for his grain, These all must be prepared. And cover'd with his hand the shallow seed again. DRYDEN. DRYDEN.'Tis good for arable; a glebe that asks His corn and cattle were his only care, Tough teams of oxen; and laborious tasks. And his supreme delight a country fair. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A GRICUL T'URE. 27 He burns the leaves, the scorching blast invades Some steep their seeds, and some in cauldrons The tender corn, and shrivels up the blades. boil DRYDEN. O'er gentle fires; the exuberant juice to drain, IThou king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn And swell the flatt'ring husks with fruitful grain. Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn, DRYDEN. Shalt share my morning song and evening vows. Mark well the flow'ring almonds in the wood: DRYDEN. If od'rous blooms the bearing branches load, No fruitful crop the sickly fields return; The glebe will answer to the sylvan reign: But oats and darnel choke the rising corn. Great heats will follow, and large crops of grain. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Tough thistles choked the fields, and kill'd the The low'ring spring, with lavish rain, corn, Beats down the slender stem and bearded grain. And an unthrifty crop of weeds was born. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Oft the drudging ass is driven with toil; The bearded corn ensued Returning late and loaden home with gain From earth unask'c; nor was that earth renew'd. Of barter'd pitch, and handmills for the grain. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Your hay it is mi-ow'd, and your corn it is reap'd; In the sun your golden grain display, Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd; And thrash it out and winnow it by day. Come, my boys, come, DRYDEN. Come, my boys, come, And merrily roar out harvest-home. And when to reap the grain and when to sow, DRYDEN. Or when to fell the furzes. Moist earth produces corn and grass, but both DRYDEN: Viog'i7. Too rank and too luxuriant in their growth. You who supply the ground with seeds of grain, Let not my land so large a promise boast, Lest the lank ears in length of stem be lost. And you who swell those seeds with kindly rain. Lest the lank cars in length of stem be lost. DRYDEN. DRvDEN. DRYDEN. Delve of convenient depth your threshing floor; When continued rain With temper'd clay then fill and face it o'er. The labring husband in his house restrain, DRYDEN. Let him forecast his work with timely care, Which else is huddled when the skies are fair. In vain the hinds the threshing floor prepare, DRYDEN. And exercise their flails in empty air. DRYDEN. And oft whole sheets descend of sluicy rain, Suck'd by the spungy clouds from off the main: If a swood of leaves o'ershade the tree, The lofty skies at once come pouring down, In vain the hind shall vex the threshing floor, The pronised crop and goldes labours drown. For empty chaff and straw will be thy store. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. She took the coleworts which her husband got On a short pruning-hook his head reclines, s his ines From his own ground (a small well-water'd And studiously surveys his gen'rous vines. ~DRvDEN. spot); She stripp'd the stalks of all their leaves; the best She in pens his flocks will fold. DRYDEN. In shallow furrows vines securely grow. DRYDEN. But when the western winds with vital pow'r Call forth the tender grass and budding flow'r, The vineyard must employ thy sturdy steer Men, at the last, produce in open air To turn the glebe; besides thy daily pain Both flocks, and send them to their summer's To break the clods, and make the surface plain. fare. DRYDEN.. DRYDEN. 28 A GRICUL TURE. Begin when the slow waggoner descends, To dress the vines new labour is required, Nor cease your sowing till midwinter ends. Nor must the painful husbandman be tired. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. For sundry foes the rural realm surround; Give me, ye gods, the product of one field, The field-mouse builds her garner under ground: That so I neither may be rich nor poor; For gather'd grain the blind laborious mole, And having just enough, not covet more. In winding mazes, works her hidden hole. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. All was common, and the fruitful earth Where the vales with violets once were crown'd, Was free to give her unexacted birth. Now knotty burs and thorns disgrace the DRYDEN. ground. DRYDEN Their morning milk the peasants press at night; DRYDEN. Their evening milk before the rising light. Most have found DRYDEN. A husky harvest from the grudging ground. DRYDEN. The peaceful peasant to the wars is prest, The fields lie fallow in inglorious rest. For flax and oats will burn the tender field, And sleepy poppies harmful harvests yield. DRYDEN. Where the tender rinds of trees disclose Their shooting germs, a swelling knot there But various are the ways to change the state, rows; To plant, to bud, to.graft, to inoculate. grows;,YE Just in that place a narrow slit we make, Then other buds from bearing trees we take; The peasant, innocent of all these ills, Inserted thus, the wounded rind we close. With crooked ploughs the fertile fallow tills, DRYDEN. And the round year with daily labour fills. Your farm requites your pains, Though rushes overspread the neighb'ring To his county farm the fool confined; plains. Rude work well suited with a rustic mind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Rocks lie cover'd with eternal snow; Thou hop'st with sacrifice of oxen slain Thin herbage in the plains, and fruitless fields. To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain DRYDEN. To give thee flocks and herds, with large in- Uneasy still within these narrow bounds, crease; Thy next design is on thy neighbour's grounds: Fool! to expect them from a bullock's grease. His crop invites, to full perfection grown; DRYDEN. Thy own seems thin, because it is thy own. Apollo check'd my pride, and bade me feed DRYDEN. My fatt'ning flocks, nor dare beyond the reed. T' unload the branches, or the leaves to thin DRYDEN. That suck the vital moisture of the vine. Let Araby extol her happy coast, DRYDEN. Her fragrant flow'rs, her trees with precious Yet then this little spot of earth well till'd, tears, A num'rous family with plenty fill'd, Her second harvests. The good old man and thrifty housewife spent DRYDEN. Their days in peace and fatten'd with content; Suffering not the yellow beards to rear, Enjoy'd the dregs of life, and lived to see He tramples down the spikes, and intercepts A long descending healthful progeny. the ear. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The soil, with fatt'ning moisture fill'd, Ev'n when they sing at ease in full content, Is clothed with grass, and fruitful to be till'd; Insulting o'er the toil they underwent, Such as in fruitful vales we view from high, Yet still they find a future task remain, Which dripping rocks, not rowling streams To turn the soil. supply. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A GRICUL TURE. 29 First, with assiduous care from winter keep, Sleeping vegetables lie, Well fother'd in the stalls, thy tender sheep; Till the glad summons of a genial ray Then spread with straw the bedding of thy fold, Unbinds the glebe, and calls them out to-day. With fern beneath, to fend the bitter cold. GARTH. DRYDEN. By devastation the rough warrior gains,,. In vain the barns expect their promised load; And farmers fatten most when famine reigns. Nor barns at home, nor ricks are heap'd abroad, GARTH. DRYDEN. If on Swithin's feast the welkin lowers, At harvest-home, and on the shearing day, And every penthouse streams with hasty When he should thanks to Pan and Pales pay. show'rs, DRYDEN. Twice twenty days shall clouds their fleeces Ah that your business had been mine, dain. GAY. To pen the sheep. DRYDEN. HIIere I peruse the Mantuan's georgic strains, Root up wild olives from thy labour'd lands. And learn the labours of Italian swains. DRYDEN. GAY. Nor is the profit small the peasant makes, The bending scythe Who smooths with harrow, or who pounds Shaves all the surface of the waving green. with rakes, GAY. The crumbling clods. The crumblingDRYDEN. The ploughman leaves the task of day, And trudging homeward whistles on the way. Be mindful GAY. With iron teeth of rakes and prongs to move?The crusted earth. How turnips hide their swelling heads below, DRYDEN. And how the closing coleworts upwards grow. GAY. Let thy hand supply the pruning-knife, And crop luxuriant stragglers. Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose, DRYDEN. Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes. Bid the laborious hind, GOLDSMITH: Traveller. Whose harden'd hands did long in tillage toil, Whoseg haren'dhands did long in thillage toil, Ill fares the land, to hast'ning ills a prey, Neglect the promised harvest of the soil. Where ealth accumulates and men decay; Where wealth accumulates and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; The wiser madman did for virtue toil A breath can make them, as a breath has made: A thorny, or at least a barren, soil. But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, DRYDEN. When once destroy'd can never be supplied. Here the marshy grounds approach your fields, GOLDSTH: And there the soil a stony harvest yields. Nor is't unwholesome to subdue the land DRYDEN. By often exercise; and where before While the reaper fills his greedy hands, You broke the earth, again to plow. And binds the golden sheaves in brittle bands. MAY. DRYDEN. The ground'one year at rest, forget not then Did we for these barbarians plant and sow, With richest dung to hearten it again. With richest dung to hearten it again. On these, on these our happy fields bestow? DRYDEN. Their bulls they send to pastures far On hills, or feed them at full racks within. If your care to wheat alone extend, MAY. Let Maia with her sisters first descend, Before you trust in earth your future hope, Bring them for food sweet boughs and osiers cut Or else expect a listless, lazy crop. Nor all the winter long thy hay-rick shut. DRYDEN. MAY. 30 A GRICUL TURE. I oft have seen, when corn was ripe to mow, The labour'd ox And now in dry and brittle straw did grow, In his loose traces from the furrow came, Winds from all quarters oppositely blow. And the swink'd hedger at his supper sat. MAY. MILTON. Nor are the ways alike in all Or if the earlier season lead How to ingraff, how to inoculate. To the tann'd haycock in the mead. MILTON. Fires oft are good on barren earshes made, With crackling flames to burn the stubble blade. Whil the mw wm eth blithe, M/IAY. And the mower whets his scythe. MILTON. Thy corn thou there may'st safely sow, Where in full cods last year rich pease did grow. There are who, fondly studious of increase, MAY. Rich foreign mould in their ill-natured land Induce. Let the plowmen's prayer Idc Be for moist solstices, and winters fair. MAY. Wilt thou repine His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field To labour for thyself? and rather chuse Part arable and tilth; whereon were sheaves To lie supinely, hoping heaven will bless New reap'd; the other part, sheep-walks and Thy slighted fruits, and give thee bread unfolds. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. The cattle in the fields and meadows green, Let sage experience teach thee all the arts Those rare and solitary, these in flocks Of grafting and ineyeing. Pasturing, at once and in broad herds upsprung. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. The unfallow'd glebe The field Yearly o'ercomes the granaries with stores To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed. Of golden wheat. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. They mock our scant manuring, and require The nursling grove More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth. Seems fair awhile, cherish'd with foster earth; MILTON. But when the alien compost is exhaust, Seedtime and harvest, heat and hoary frost, Its native poverty again prevails. Shall hold their course. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. Rough unwieldy earth, nor to the plough Nor to the cattle kind, with sandy stones MILTON. And gravel o'er-abounding. JOHN PHILIPS. The careful ploughman doubting stands, Lest on the threshing floor his sheaves prove Nothing profits more chaff. Than frequent snows: oh, may'st thou often see MILTON. Thy furrows whiten'd by the woolly rain, Nutritious! A sweaty reaper from'his tillage broughtritious First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, Uncull'd as came to hand. orchard loves to wave MILTON. With winter winds: the loosen'd roots then drink Tells how the drudging goblin swet, Tlsoteddi gobLarge increment, earnest of happy years. To earn his cream-bowl duly set, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn Autumn vigour gives, That ten day-labourers could not end. Equal, intenerating, milky grain. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. A GRICUL TVURE. 3 1 Twelve mules, a strong laborious race, Their sickles reap the corn another sows. New to the plough, unpracticed in the trace. SANDYS. POPE. The higher Nilus swells, While lab'ring oxen, spent with toil and heat, The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman In their loose traces from the field retreat. Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, POPE. And shortly comes to harvest. SHAKSPEARE. Safe on my shore each unmolested swain Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain. You sunburnt sickle men, of August weary, POPE. Come hither from the furrow, and be merry. SHAKSPEARE. Or great Osiris, who first taught the swain In Pharian fields to sow the golden grain. The sun shines hot; and if we use delay, POPE. Cold biting winter mars our hoped-for hay. SHAKSPEARlE. In vain kind seasons swell'd the teeming grain; Soft showers distill'd, and suns grew warm in The stray Greeks, ripe for his edge, vain. Fall down before him like the mower's swath. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Go first the master of thy herds to find, What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn, True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind. Have now we mowed down in top of all their POPE. pride? SHAKSPEARE. To build, to plant, whatever you intend, To rear the column, or the arch to bend. L POPE. But keep a farm, and carters. SHAKSPEARE. O'er sandy wilds were yellow harvests spread. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks. His cheerful tenants bless their yearly toil, SHAISPEARE. Yet to their lord owe more than to the soil. The folds stand empty in the drowned field, -POPE. Aiind crows are fatted with the murrain flock; The nine men's morris is filled up with mud. From fresh pastures, and the dewy field, SHAIKSPEARE. The lowing herds return, and round them throng, With leaps and bounds, the late imprison'd Her fallow leas young. The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumritory POPE. Doth root upon; while that the culter rusts That should deracinate such savagery. The worm that gnaws the ripening fruit, sad SHAKSPEARE. guest! Canker, or locust hurtful to infest Nothing teems The blade; while husks elude the tiller's care, But hateful cocks, rough thistles, kecksies, hurl, And eminence of want distinguishes the year. Losing both beauty and utility. PRsIoR. ISHAKSPEARE. Let her glad valleys smile with wavy corn; The ear that budded fair is burnt and hlasted, Let fleecy flocks her rising hills adorn. And all my hoped gain is turn'd to scath. PRIOR. I SPENSER. After the declining sun Thee a ploughman all unweeting found, Had changed the shadows, and their task wasAs he his toilsome team that way did guide, done, And brought thee up in ploughman's state to Home with their weary team they took their way. bide. ROSCOMMON. SPENSER. 32 A GRICUL TURE. Her flood of tears In May get a weed-hook, a crotch, and a glove, Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain, And weed out such weeds as the corn doth not Which from the thatch drips fast a shower of rain. love. SWIFT. TUSSER. In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd Plough-Monday next after that the twelftide is The kings, and awful fathers of mankind; past, And some, with whom compared your insect Bids out with the plough, the worst husband is tribes last. TUSSER. Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of empire, ruled the storm At Midsummer down with the brambles and Of mighty wTar, then, with unwearied hand, brakes, Disdaining little delicacies, seized And after abroad with thy forks and thy rakes. The plough, and greatly independent lived. TUSSER. THOMSON. Such land as ye break up for barley to sow, To the harness'd yoke Two earths, at the least, ere ye sow it, bestow. They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil. TUSSER. THOMSON. Sowe peason and beans in the wane of the moon: With superior boon may your rich soil Who soweth them sooner he soweth too soone. Exuberant nature's better blessings pour TOSSER. O'er every land, the naked nations clothe, Friend, harrow in time, by some manner of And be th' exhaustless granary of a world. means, THOMSON. Not only thy peason, but also thy beans. They rose as vigorous as the sun; TusSER. Then to the culture of the willing glebe. Plant ye with alders or willowes a plot, THOMSON. Where yeerely, as needeth, mo poles may be got. In rueful gaze TuSSER. The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens The north is a noiance to grass of all suits, Cast a deploring eye. The east a destroyer to'herbs and all fruits. THOMSON. TUSSER. As they rake the green-appearing ground, The west as a father all goodness doth bring, The russet haycock rises. The east a forbearer no manner of thing. THOMSON. TUSSER. Behind the master walks, builds up the shocks, Feels,is hLet servant be ready with mattock in hand Feels his heart heave with joy. THOMSON. To stub out the bushes that noieth the land. TUSSER. The gleaners, Spike after spike, their sparing harvest pick. In lopping and felling save elder and stake, THOMSON. Thine hedges, as needeth, to mend or to make. TUSSER. Huswives are teached, instead of a clocke, How winter night passeth, by crowing of cocke. One seed for another to make an exchange TUSSER. With fellowly neighbourhood seemeth not If snowe do continue, sheepe hardly that fare strange.TUSSER Crave mistle and ivie for them to spare. TUSSER. Land arable, driven, or worn to the proof, With oats you may sow it, the sooner to grass, In March is good graffing, the skilful do know, Solnstewn iteaMore soon to be pasture, to bring it to pass. So long as the wind in the east do not blow: TUSSER From moon being changed, till past be the prime, And he that can rear up a pig in his house, For graffing and cropping is very good time. Hath cheaper his bacon, and sweeter his souse. TUSSER. TUSSER, AL CHE AYEM. -A Af{BZOLY. 33 Of barley the finest and greenest ye find, ALCHEMY. Leave standing in dallops till time ye do bind. By fire TUSSER. Of sooty coal th' empiric alchemist Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, From wheat go and rake out the titters or tine, Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold. If care be not forth, it will rise again fine. MILTON. TUSSER. The starving chymist in his golden views Through cunning, with dibble, rake, mattock, Supremely blest, the poet in his muse. and spade, By line and'by level trim garden is made. TUSSER. AM BITION. Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost Now down with the grass upon headlands about, In high ambition. That groweth in shadow so rank and so stout. ADDISON. TUSSER. Where ambition of place goes before fitness Of birth, contempt and disgrace follow. Some commons are barren, the nature is such, GEORGE CHAPMAN. And some overlayeth the commons too much. TUSSER. Blinded greatness, ever in turmoil, Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil. Grant harvest-lord more by a penny or two, DANIEL. To call on his fellows the better to do. Be not with honour's gilded baits beguiled, TUSSER. Nor think ambition wise, because'tis brave; Things thus set in order, in quiet and rest, For though we like it, as a forward child, Shall further thy harvest, and pleasure thee best.'Tis so unsound her cradle is her grave. TUSSER. SIR W. DAVENANT: Gondibert. Ambition the disease of virtue bred Reap well, scatter not, gather clean that is shorn, Amition, the disease of virtue, b Like surfeits from an undigested fulnessj Bind fast, shock apace, have an eye to thy corn. Like surfeits from an undigested fulness Meets death in that which is the means of life. SIR J. DENHAM. So likewise a hovel will serve for a room Nature and duty bind him to obedience: To stack on the peas, when harvest shall come. But these being placed in a lower sphere, TUSSER. His fierce ambition, like the highest mover, Who abuseth his cattle and starves them for meat, Has hurried with a strong impulsive motion By carting or ploughing his gain is not great; Against their proper course. Where he that with labour can use them aright, Hath gain to his comfort, and cattle in plight. Some through ambition, or through thirst of gold, TUSSER. Have slain their brothers, and their country sold. DRYDEN. So corn in fields, and in the garden flowers Revive, and raise themselves with mod'rate Those who to empire by dark paths aspire, showers; Still plead a call to what they most desire. showers; DRYDEN. But overcharged with never-ceasing rain, Become too moist. One world sufficed not Alexander's mind; WALLER. Coop'd up he seem'd, in earth and seas confined. DRYDEN. Your reign no less assures the ploughman's peace, Too truly Tamerlane's successors they; Than the warm sun advances his increase. Each thinks a world too little for his sway. WALLER. DRYDEN. 0 diadem, thou centre of ambition, Such is the mould that the blest tenant feeds Where all its different lines are reconciled; On precious fruits, and pays his rent in weeds. As if thou wert the burning glass of glory. WALLER. DRYDEN. 3 34 A.MBITIOiN. No toil, no hardship can restrain Here may we reign secure; and, in my choice, Ambitious man inured to pain; To reign is worth ambition, though in hell. The more confined, the more he tries, MILTON. And at forbidden quarry flies. Bad men boast DRYDEN. Their specious deeds on earth, which glory exWith joy th' ambitious youth his mother heard, cites, And, eager, for the journey soon prepared; Or close ambition varnish'd o'er with zeal. He longs the world beneath him to survey, MILTON. To guide the chariot, and to give the day.'YE Ambition sigh'd: she found it vain to trust The faithless column, and the crumbling bust. Why does Antony dream out his hours, POPE. And tempts not fortune for a noble day? But see, how oft ambitious aims are crost; DRYDEN. And chiefs contend till all the prize is lost. To cure their mad ambition, they were sent POPE. To rule a distant province, each alone: Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, What could a careful father more have done? Aspiring to be angels, men rebel. DRYDEN. POPE. Leave to fathom such- high points as these, The fiery soul abhorr'd in Catiline, Nor be ambitious, ere the time, to please; In Decius charms, in Curtius is divine: Unseasonably wise, till age and cares. The same ambition can destroy or save, Have form'd thy soul to manage great affairs. And make a patriot, as it makes a knave. DRYDEN. POPE. Dare to be great without a guilty crown; She points the arduous height where glory lies, View it, and lay the bright temptation down: And teaches mad ambition to be wise.'Tis base to seize on all. POPE. DRYDEN. In vain for life he to the altar fled; Both ways deceitful is the wine of power; Ambition and revenge have certain speed. When new'tis heady, and when old'tis sour. PRIOR. WALTER HARTE. Thy cruel and unnatural lust of power In me, as yet, ambition had no part; Has sunk thy father more than all his years, Pride had not sour'd, nor wrath debased, my And made him wither in a green old age. heart. ROWE. WALTER HARTE. 0 momentary grace of mortal men! This sov'reign passion, scornful of restraint, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God; Even from the birth effects supreme commalid, Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, Swells in the breast, and with resistless force Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind. Ready with ev'ry nod to tumble down. DR. JOHNSON: Ir-ene. SHAKSPEARE. They ween'd'Tis a common proof, To win the mount of God, and on his throne That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, To set the envier of his state, the proud W hereto the climber upward turns his face: Aspirer; but their thoughts proved fond and vain.' But when he once attains the upmost round, MILTON. He then unto the ladder turns his back, One shall rise. I Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. Of proud ambitious heart, who, not content which he did ascend. SHAKSPEARE. Witlh fair equality, fraternal state, Will arrogate dominion undeserved They that stand high have many blasts to shake Over his brethren, and quite dispossess them, Concord and law of nature fiom the earth. And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. MIILTON. SHAKSPEARE. A MBITZO. -A NCES TR Y 35 They hail'd him father to a line of kings; Of all the passions which possess the soul, Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, None so disturb vain mortals' minds And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, As vain ambition, which so blinds No son of mine succeeding. The light of them, that nothing can control SHAKSPEARE. Nor curb their thoughts who will aspire. EARL OF STIRLING: Darius. Here lies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Choked with ambition of the meaner sort. Well I deserved Evadne's scorn to prove, SHAKSPEARE. That to ambition sacrificed my love. WALLER. There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and our ruin, Alas! ambition makes my little less, More pangs and fears than war or women have. Embitt'ring the possess'd: why wish for more? SHAKSPEARE. Wishing of all employments is the worst; Philosophy's reverse, and health's decay! I do contest YOUNG: Ni6 t Thougkts. As hotly and as nobly with thy love, As ever in ambitious strength I did Contend against thy valour.ANCESTRY. SHAKSPEARE. Heralds stickle, who got whoThese signs have mark'd me extraordinary, So many hundred years ago. And all the courses of my life do show BUTLER: Hudibras. I am not in the roll of common men. SHAKSPEARE. He that to ancient wreaths can bring no more From his own worth, dies bankrupt on the score. Thriftless ambition! that will raven up JOHN CLEAVELAND. Thine own life's means.'Twas no false heraldry when madness drew SHAKSPEARE. Her pedigree from those who too much knew. Such men as he be never at heart's ease, SIR J. DENHAM. Whilst they behold a greater than themselves. Were virtue by descent, a noble name SHAKSPEARE. Could never villanize his father's fame; But, as the first, the last of all the line Thou wouldst be great, Would, like the sun, ev'n in descending, shine. Art not without ambition; but without DRYDEN. The illness should attend it. SHAKSPEARE. Vain are their hopes who fancy to inherit, By trees of pedigree, or fame oi merit; Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! Though plodding heralds through each branch,When that this body did contain a spirit, may trace A kingdom for it was too small a'bound: Old captains and dictators of their race. But now two paces of the vilest earth DRYDEN. Is room enough. SHAKSPEARE. Long galleries of ancestors Challenge nor wonder or esteem from me: No blown ambition doth our arms incite, "Virtue alone is true nobility." But love, dear love, and our aged father's right. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Do then as your progenitors have done, 0 vain to seek delight in earthly thing! And by their virtues prove yourself their, —- And Hecatompylos her hundred gates. ARCHITECTURE. Our fathers next, in architecture skill'd, Whene'er we view some well-proportion' d dome Cities for use, and forts for safety build: No single parts unequally surprise; Then palaces and lofty domes arose; All comes united to th' admiring eyes. These for devotion, and for pleasure those. POPE. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Westward a pompous frontispiece appear'd, Windows and doors in nameless sculpture drest, On Doric pillars of white marble rear'd, With order, symmetry, or taste unblest; Crown'd with an architrave of antique mould, Forms like some bedlam statuary's dream, And sculpture rising on the roughen'd gold. The crazed creation of misguided whim. POPE. BURNS. There stands a structure of majestic frame. How rev'rend is the face of this tall pile, POPE. Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads To bear alodft its arch'd and pond'rous roof! With her the temple ev'ry moment grew, By its own weight made steadfast and immovable; Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend, Looking tranquillity! It strilkes an awe And arches widen, and long aisles ascend. And terror to my aching sight! The tombs POPE. And monumental caves of death look cold, The growing tow'rs like exhalations rise, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart. And the huge columns heave into the skies. CONGREVE:' Mourning Bride. PoPE. 42 AR CHITE CTURE.-AR G UIVG. While fancy brings the vanish'd piles to view, With studied argument, and much persuasion And builds imaginary Rome anew. sought, POPE. Lenient of grief and anxious thought. You show us Rome was glorious, not profuse; MILTON. And pompous buildings once were things of use. In argument with men a woman ever POPE. Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause. You too proceed! make falling arts your care, MILTON. Erect new wonders, and the old repair; Let subtle schoolmen teach these friends to fight, Jones and Palladio to themselves restore, More studious to divide than to unite. And be whate'er Vitruvius was before. POPE. POPE: To t/he Earl of Bur~ingwzton. Like doctors thus, when much dispute has past, In the well-framed models,'We find our tenets just the same at last. With emblematic skill and mystic order, POPE: Moral Essnys. Thou show'dst where tow'rs on battlements Who shall decide when doctors disagree, should rise; And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me? Where gates should open, or where walls should POPE: Moral[ Essays. compass. PRIOR. Blunt the sense, and fit it for a skull Of solid proofs, impenetrably dull. View not this spire by measures giv'n POPE. To buildings raised by common hands. They reason and conclude by precedent, PRIOR. And own stale nonsense which they ne'er invent. POPE. ARGUING. Can syllogism set things right? When men argue, th' greatest part No, majors soon with minors fight; O' the contest falls on terms of art, Or, both in friendly consort join'd, Until the fustian stuff be spent, The consequence limps false behind. PRIOR. And then they fall to th' argument. BUTLER: Hul-zibras. We sometimes wrangle, when we should debate; A consequential ill which freedom draws; He could on either side dispute, A bad effect, but from a noble cause. Confute, change hands, and still confute. PRIOR. BUTLER: Hudibras. In argument, Quoth Hudibras, It is in vain, Similes are like songs in love: I see, to argue'gainst the grain. They much describe, they nothing prove. BUTLER: Hudibras. PRIOR. Why do disputes in wrangling spend the day, In the dispute whate'er I said, Whilst one says only" Yes," and t'other " Nay"? My heart was by my tongue belied; SIR J. DENHAM. And in my looks you might have read How much I argued on your side. Be calm in arguing; for fierceness makes PRIOR. Error a fault, and truth discourtesy. GEORGE HERBERT. High flights she had, and wit at will, And so her tongue lay seldom still; Let argument bear no unmusical sound, For in all visits who but she Nor jars interpose, sacred friendship to grieve. To argue or to repartee? BEN JONSON. PRIOR. His tongue The fool hath planted in his memory Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse ap- An army of good words; and I do know pear A many fools that stand in better place, The better reason, to perplex and dash Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word Maturest counsels. Defy the matter. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. ARISTOCRA CY —ARMS.-ART. 43 ARISTOCRACY. Nigh at hand, Celestial armory, shields, helms, and spears, Grant her, besides, of noble blood that ran In ancient veins, ere heraldry began. Hung high, with diamonds flaming and with In ancient veins, ere heraldry began. DRYDEN. gold. MILTON. May none whose scatter'd names honour my The arm'rers temper in the ford book, The keen-edged pole-ax, or the shining sword; For strict degrees of rank or title look; The red-hot metel hisses in the lake.'Tis'gainst the manner of an epigram, POPE. And I a poet here, no herald, am. The armorers accomplishing the knights, BEN JNN With busy hammers closing rivets up, Their choice nobility and flower Give dreadful note of preparation. Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. His warlike shield He, then, that is not furnish'd in this sort Was all of diamond, perfect, pure, and clean; Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,. Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, For so exceeding shone his glistering ray, And should, if I were worthy to be judge, That Phmbus golden face it did attaint, Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain, As when a cloud his beams doth overlay. That doth presume to boast of gentle blood. SPENSER: Fberie Quoeene. SHAKSPEARE. Howe'er it be, it seems to me'Tis only noble to be good: ART. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. The whole world, without art and dress, TENNYSON. Would be but one great wilderness, And mankind but a savage herd, Fairest piece of well-form'd earth, For all that nature has conferrd: Urge not thus your haughty birth. Urge not thus your haALLER. This does but roughen and design, Leaves art to polish and refine. One whose extraction from an ancient line BUTLER: nEdiefras. Gives hope again that well-born men may shine; The meanest in your nature mild and good, Their wildness lose, and, quitting nature's palt, The noble rest secured in your blood. Obey the rules and discipline of art. WALLER. DRYDEN. Such tools as art yet rude had form'd. ARMS. MILTON. The whole division that to Mars pertains, Art from that fund each just supply provides, All trades of death that deal in steel for gains, Works without show, and without pomp presides Were there; the butcher, armorer, and smith, POPE. Who forges sharpen'd fauchionb, or the scythe. DRYDEN. From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, T And snatch a grace beyond:the reach of art. The weighty mallet deals resounding blows, POPE: Essay o0Z CriliczSnm. Till the proud battlements her tow'rs inclose. GAY. To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, The sword To raise the genius, and to mend the heart. Of Michael from the armory of God POPE: Prologue to "Cato." Was giv'n him; temper'd so, that neither keen Nor solid might resist that edge. We oft our slowly growing works impart, MILTON. While images reflect from art to art. With plain heroic magnitude of mind,POPE. And celestial vigour arm'd, Semblant art shall carve the fair effect Their armories and magazines contemns. And full achievement of thy great designs. MILTON. PRIOR. 44 AR TIFICE. -A R APS. Good Howard, emulous of the Grecian art. He, full of fraudful arts, PRIOR. This well-invented tale for truth imparts. In framing artists, art hath thus decreed: DRYDEN To make some good, but others to exceed.. Live then, thou great encourager of arts! SHAKSPEARE. Live ever in our thankful hearts. Famous Greece, DRYDEN. That source of art and cultivated thought, Which they to Rome, and Romans hither brought. Studious they appear WALLER. Of arts that polish life; inventors rare, Unmindful of their maker. 1MILTON. ARTIFICE. For when he dies, farewell all honour, bounty, Others by guilty artifice and arts All generous encouragement of arts. Of promised kindness practise on our hearts; OTWAv. With expectation blow the passion up; She fans the fire without one gale of hope. Expunge the whole, or lop th' excrescent parts GRANVILLE. Of all, our vices have created arts: A man of sense can artifice disdain, Then see how little the remaining sum, As men of wealth may venture to go plain. Which served the past, and must the times to YOUNG.' come. POPE. ARTS. Artist divine, whose skilful hands infold Behold those arts with a propitious eye The victim;s horn with circumfusile gold. That suppliant to their great protectress fly. POPE. ADDISON. Smit with the love of English arts we came, Cultivate the wild licentious savage And met congenial, mingling flame with flame. With wisdom, discipline, and liberal arts, POPE. The embellishments of life. ADDISON. Arts still follow'd where Rome's eagles flew. Wheresoe'er her conquering eagles fled, POPE. Arts, learning, and civility were spread. Ati SIR we. DENHAM. We conquer'd France, but felt our captive's SIR J. DENHAM. charm: From Egypt arts their progress made to Greece, Their arts victorious triumph'd o'er our arms. Wrapt in the fable of the golden fleece. POPE. SIR J. DENHAM. Artists and plans relieved my solemn hours; The soldier then in Grecian arts unskill'd, I founded palaces, and planted bow'rs. Returning rich with plunder from the field, PRIOR. If cups of silver or of gold he brought With jewels set, and exquisitely wrought, Ere the progressive course of restless age To glorious trappings strait the plate he turn'd,Performs three thousand times its annual stage, And with the glitt'ring spoil his horse adorn'd.May not our pow'r and learning be suppress'd, DRYDEN. And arts and learning learn to travel west? What wonder if the kindly beams he shed, PRIOR. Revived the drooping arts again; Revived the drooping arts again; Our court shall be a little academy, If science raised her head, If scie.ce raisedherheadStill and contemplative in living arts. And soft humanity, that from rebellion fled. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. All arts and artists Theseus could command, None in more languages can show Who sold for hire, or wrought for better fame. Those arts, which you so early know. DRYDEN. WALLER. ASTR OL 0 G Y 45 ASTROLOGY. Howe'er love's native hours are set, If he chance to find Whatever starry synod met, A new repast, or an untasted spring,'Tis in the mercy of her eye, If poor love shall live or die. Blesses his stars and thinks it luxury. If poor love shall live CRASHAW. ADDISON. Large foundations may be safely laid, Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about Or houses roof'd, if friendly planets aid. The wilds of life ere I could find a friend. CREECH. ADDISON. The Greek names this the horoscope, Maln is his own star, and the soul that can This governs life, and this marks out our parts; Render an honest and a perfect man, Our humours, manners, qualities, and arts. CREECH. Commands all light, all influence, all fate- Nothing to him falls early or too late. We must trust to virtue, not to fate; Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, That may protect, whom cruel stars will hate. Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still. SIR WV. DAVENANT: Dis/resses. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. Unskill'd in schemes by planets to foreshow, I neither will nor can prognosticate Than those that with the stars do fribble. To the young gaping heir his father's fate. BUTLER: tdibras.RYDEN The spiteful stars have shed their venom down, But with more lucky hit than those And now the peaceful planets take their turn. That use to make the stars depose. DRYDEN. BUTLER: HiEdibras. Such sullen planets at my birth did shine, I only deal by rules of art, a relawl, ue, They threaten every fortune mixt with mine. Such as are lawful, and judge by DRYDEN. Conclusions of astrology. EBUTLER: Ihedibra~s. Sorceries to raise th' infernal pow'rs, And sigils framed in planetary hours. Cardan believed great states depend DRYDEN. Upon the tip o' th' bear's tail's end; nWould I had been disposer of thy stars, That as she whisk'd it t'wards the sun, That as she whiskd it twards the sun, Thou shouldst have had thy wish, and died in Strow'd mighty empires up and down. BUTLER: Hudibras. DRYDEN. They'll find i' the physiognomies If but a mile she travel out of town, O' th' planets all men's destinies. The planetary hour must first be known, BUTLER: Hudibras. And lucky moment, if her eye but akes, Quoth HiTudibras, The stars determine Or itches, its decumbiture she takes. DRYDEN. You are my prisoners, base vermin! Could they not tell you so, as well Lady, throw back thy raven hair, As what I came to know foretell? Lay thy white brow in the moonlight bare; BUTLER: Hudibras. I will look on the stars and look on thee, And read the page of thy destiny. Many rare pithy saws concerning L. E. LANDON. The worth of astrologic learning. BUTLER: Zudibras. For if those stars, cross to me in my birth, Had not denied their prosperous influence to it, Cry out upon the stars for doing I might have ceased to be, and not as now Ill offices, to cross their wooing. To curse my being. BUTLER: Hudibiras. MASSINGER. MASSINGER. The astrologer, who spells the stars, Their planetary motions and aspects Mistakes his globes, and in her brighter eye Of noxious efficacy, and when to join Interprets heaven's physiognomies. In synod unbenign. JOHN CLEAVELAND. MILTON. 46 ASTkR O0 O G Y —A UCTION. -A UTHORS. Two planets rushing from aspect malign Men at some time are masters of their fates; Of fiercest opposition in mid sky, The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, Should combat, and their jarring spheres con- But in ourselves, that we are underlings. found. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. They have, as who have not, whom their great No date prefix'd stars Directs me in the starry rubric set. Throned and set high? MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. If I read aught in heav'n, Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars, Or heav'n write aught of fate, by what the stars, On equal terms to give him chastisement? SHAKSPEARE. Voluminous, or single characters, In their conjunction met, give me to spell, My good stars, that were my former guides, Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate, Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires Attend thee. Into the abysm of hell. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. O fact unparallel'd! Charles! best of kings! Strange an astrologer should die What stars their black, disastrous influence shed Without one wonder in the sky! On thy nativity? Not one of all his crony stars JOHN PHILIPS. To pay their duty at his hearse. SWIFT. Astrologers that future fates foreshew, Projectors, quacks, and lawyers not a few. PoPE. AUCTION. And much more honest to be hired, and stand Of talismans and sigils knew the power, With auctionary hammer in thy hand; And careful watch'd the planetary hour. Provoking to give more, and knocking thrice POPE. For the old household stuff, or picture's price. A blockhead rubs his thoughtless skull, - DRYDEN: 7uvenal. And thanks his stars he was not born a fool. POPE Ask you why Phryne the whole auction buys? Phryne foresees a general excise. There's some ill planet reigns: POPE. I must be patient, till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable. AUTHORS. SHAKSPEARE. Our homespun authors must forsake the field, Be opposite all planets of good luck And Shakspeare to the soft Scarlatti yield. To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love, ADDISON. Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, Great Milton next, with high and haughty stalks, I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter! SHAIKSPEARE. Unfetter'd in majestic numbers walks. ADDISON. I findn my zenith doth depend upon Than Timoleon's arms require, A most auspicious star; whose influence And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes lyre. Will ever after droop. AKENSIDE: Ode. SHAKSPEARE. Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh Let-me lament To learned Chaucer, and, rare Beaumont, lie That our stars, unreconcilable, should have A little nearer Spenser, to make room divided For Shakspeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb. Our equalness to this. WILLIAM BASSE: On Sl/akspeare. SHAKSPEARE. P How does Cartesius all his sinews strain Our jovial star reign'd at his birth. The earth's attractive vigour to explain! SHAKSPEARE. SIR R. BLACKMORE. A UTHORS. 47 There Shakspeare! on whose forehead climb Sighing that nature form'd but one such man, The crowns o' the world! O eyes sublime- And broke the die —in moulding Sheridan. With tears and laughter for all time! BYRON. MRS. E. B. BROWNING. And aye that volume on her lap is thrown, The glory dies not, and the grief is past. Which every heart of human mould endears; SIR S. E. BRYDGES: Deatl/ of Sir Walter Scott. With Shakspeare's self she speaks and smiles alone, Where sense with sound and ease with weight And no intruding visitation fears combine To shame the unconscious laugh or stop her In the pure silver of Pope's ringing line; sweetest tears. Or where the pulse of man beats loud and strong CAMPBELL: Gertrude of Wyomingz. In the frank flow of Dryden's lusty song. BULWER N~eo Timon. And rival all but Shakspeare's name belowr. BULWER: Vrewu 7il}zon. CAMPBELL: Pleasztres of Hobpe. W0Then Bishop Berkeley said, "There was no Condorcet filter'd through the dregs of Paine. matter,"' CANNING: Al/ti- 7acobin. And proved it-'twas no matter what he said. BYRON. Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand By those deep sounds possess'd with inward Evergreen forest! which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground to me, light, Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee How have I loved the twilight hour and thee! Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea. COLERIDGE: FauZCy inZ Niebibus. Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away. BYRON. Too nicely Jonson knew the critic's part; Nature in him was almost lost in Art. Vet truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires, COLLINS. And decorate the verse herself inspires: The fair example of the heav'nly larlk, This fact, in Virtue's name, let Crabbe attest: Thy fellow-poet, Cowley, mark; Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best.,,, BYRON:nlis Bas a. Above the stars let thy bold music sound, BYRON: A'Krithsjz Bards andnS Scotch 2evewzoer-s. Thy humble nest build on the ground. And stoic Franklin's energetic shade, COWLEY. Robed in the lightning which his'hand allay'd. His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might - BYRON: Age of Bronze. Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.'The starry Galileo with his woes. COWLEY: OnZ the Dealt of Cras/zaw. BYRON: Childe Harold. Pindar's unnavigable song Like a swift stream from mountains pours alone The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle. COWLEY. BYRON: Bride of Abydos. All the wide extended sky, Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, And all the harmonious worlds on high, He would have written sonnets all his life? And Virgil's sacred work shall die. And Virgil's sacred work shall die. V BYRON. COWLEY. The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, Sidney, warbler of poetic prose. The apostate of affection-he who threw COwPrR: Irpsp. Enchantment over passion, and from woe Wrung overwhelming eloquence. I hasten to our own; nor will relate BYRON: Cn/ilde Iarold. Great Mithridates' and rich Croesus' fate; Whom Solon wisely counsell'd to attend The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! The name of happy, till he knew his end. Where burning Sappho loved and sung. CREECH. BYRON. Time, which made them their fame outlive, The Ariosto of the North. To Cowley scarce did ripeness give. BYRON: Ciilde Harold. SIR J. DENHAMI. 48 A U~sHrORS. Horace's wit and Virgil's state Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame He did not steal, but emulate; By arrogating Jonson's hostile name; And when he would like them appear, Let father Flecknoe fire thy mind with praise, Their garb, but not their clothes, did wear. And uncle Ogleby thy envy raise. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. What from Jonson's oil and sweat did flow, Your Ben and Fletcher, in their first young Or what more easy nature did bestow flight, On Shakspeare's gentler muse, in thee full-grown Did no Volpone, nor no Arbaces write; Their graces did appear. But hopp'd about, and short excursions made SIR J. DENHAM. From bough to bough, as if they were afraid. So the twins' humours in our Terence are DRYDEN. Unlike; this harsh and rude, that smooth and Lucan, content with praise, may lie at ease fair. fa. SIR J. DENHAM. In costly grots and marble palaces; But to poor Bassus what avails a name, Noble Boyle, not less in nature seen To starve on compliments and empty. fame? Than his great brother read in states and men. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Orestes' bulky rage, Great Fletcher never treads in buskins here, Unsatisfied with margins closely writ, Nor greater Jonson dares in soclks appear. Foams o'er the covers, and not finish'd yet. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. In easy dialogues is Fletcher's praise: Next Petrarch follow'd, and in him we see He moved the mind, but had not pow'r to raise. H o hmdtDRYDEN. What rhyme, improved in all its height, can be; At best a pleasing sound, and sweet barbarity. When did his muse from Fletcher scenes purloin, DRYDEN. As thou whose Eth'ridge dost transfuse to thine? But so transfused as oil and waters flow: Saint Andre's feet ne'er kept more equal time, Not ev'n the feet of thy own Psyche's rhyme; DRYDEN. Though they in numbers as in sense excel, So just, so like tautology, they fell. Ganfride, who couldst so well in rhyme com- DRYDEN. plain The death of Richard, with an arrow slain. Shadwell alone of all my sons is he DRYDEN. Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity. DRYDEN. Homer, whose name shall live in epic song, While music numbers, or while verse has feet. The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, DRYDEN. But Shadwell never deviates into sense. DRYDEN. Three poets, in three distant ages born, Ghreee, Ioeta, and trena didt ads,orn:, Some beams of wit on other souls may fall, The first in majesty of thought surpass'd, Strike through, and make a lucid interval; The next in gracefulness; in both the last. But Shadwell's genuine night admits no ray, The force of nature could no further go: His rising fogs prevail upon the day. To make a third she join'd the other two. DRYDEN. DRYDEN: On Milton. Anger would indite Such woful stuff as I or Shadwell write. Horace, with sly insinuating grace, DRYDEN. Laugh'd at his friend, and look'd him in the face; Shadwell till death true dulness would mainWould raise a blush where secret vice he found, tain; And tickle while he gently probed the wound; And, in his father's right and realm's defence, With seeming innocence the crowd beguiled, Ne'er would have peace with wit, nor truce with But made the desperate passes when he smiled. sense. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A UJT]IORS. 49 But Shakspeare's magic could not copied be; Angry Skelton's breathless rhymes. Within that circle none durst walk but he. BISHOP HALL. DRYDEN: Prolog'ue to the Tenmest. O thou, too great to rival or to praise, The vain endurances of life, Forgive, lamented shade, these duteous lays. And they who most perform'd, and promised Lee had thy fire, and Congreve had thy wit; less, And copyists, here and there, some likeness Ev'n Short and Hobbes, forsook th' unequal hit; strife. But none possess'd thy graces and thy ease, DRYDEN. For thee alone'twas natural to please. Whoe'er thou art, whose forward ears are bent WALTER HARTE. On state affairs, to guide the government; Pope came off clean with Homer; but they Hear first what Socrates of old has said say, To the loved youth whom he at Athens bred. Broome went before, and kindly swept the DRYDEN. way. ANTHONY HENLEY. Exalted Socrates! divinely brave! ANTHONY HNLY. Injured he fell, and dying he forgave; O'er nature's laws God cast the veil of night: Too noble for revenge. Out blazed a Newton's soul-and all was light. DRYDEN.. AARON HILL. That good man, who drank the poisonous Their discords sting through Burns and Moore, draught - Like hedgehogs dress'd in lace. With mind serene, and could not wish to see 0. W. HOLMES: Mtlsic GorinJders. His vile accuser drink as deep as he. DRYDEN. Good Homer sometimes nods. HORACE. Burns o'er the plough sung sweet his woodnotes wild, Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, otes wild~,. Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new: And richest Shakspeare was a poor man's child. E. ELLIOTT. Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'd after him in vain. O ye muses! deign your bless'd retreat, DR. S. JOHNSON. Where Horace wantons at your spring, Where Horace wantons at your spring, From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage Anld Pindar sweeps a bolder string. FENTON. flow, And Swift expires a driveller and a show. Morals snatch from Plutarch's tatter'd page, DR. S. JOHNSON: andity ofHnn ishes. A mildew'd Bacon, or Stagyra's sage. GAY. Martial, thou gav'st far nobler epigrams Thus flourish'd love, and beauty reign'd in state, To thy Domitian than I can my James; Till the proud Spaniard gave this glory's date: But in my royal subject I pass thee, Thou flattered'st'thine, mine cannot flatter'd be. Transmitted safe in Dryden's lofty scenes. ~GRANVILLE. ~ Soule of the Age! Dryden himself, to cure a frantic age, The applause! delight! the wonder of our Was forced to let his judgment stoop to rage; Stage! To a wild audience he conform'd his voice, My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Complied to custom, but not err'd through Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye choice: A little further, to make thee a roome: Deem then the people's, not the writer's sin, Thou art a Monument, without a tombe, Almansor's rage, and rants of Maximin. And art aliue still, while thy Booke doth liue, GRANVILLE. And we haue wits to read, and praise to giue. BEN JONSON: Preface to First Folio, 1622. Homer shall last, like Alexander, long; As much recorded, and as often sung. And half had stagger'd that stout Stagirite. GRANVILLE. LAMB. 4 50 A UTHORS. Love warms our fancy with enliv'ning fires, How rays are confused, or how particles fly Refines our genius, and our verse inspires; Through the medium refined of a glance or a From him Theocritus, on Enna's plains, sigh? Learnt the wild sweetness of his Doric strains; Is there one who but once would not rather Virgil by him was taught the moving art, have known it That charm'd each ear and soften'd every heart. Than written, with Harvey, whole volumes LORD LYTTELTON. upon it? MOORE. For his chaste Muse employ'd her heaventaught lyre In English lays, and all sublimely great, None but the noblest passions to inspire; Thy Homer charms with all his ancient heat. Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, PARNELL, One line which, dying, he could wish to blot. O Line wh, ding, h dwish to blots Thus tender Spenser lived, with mean repast LORD LYTTELTON i PJ'oZOffzte to Fot/oXso^z's LORD LTLNPro etToo'Content, depress'd with penury, and pined Corioln~us. In foreign realm: yet not debased his verse. What neede my Shakespeare for his honour'd JOHN PHILIPS. bones, How did they fume, and stamp, and roar, and The labour of an Age in piled stones, Or that his hallow'd Reliques should be hid Ad sea! not Addison hiselffeas safe. And swear! not Addison himself was safe. Under a star-ypointing pyramid? POPE. Dear Sonne of Memory, great Heire of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Name? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? Thou in our wonder and astonishment POPE. Hast built thyselfe a lasting Monument: If parts allure thee think how Bacon shined For whilst, to th' shame of slow-endevouring Art, parts allure thee, think The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind; Thy easie numbers flow, and that each part, n Or, ravish'd with the Whistling of a name, [heart] See Cromwell damn'd to everlasting fame. Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued Booke,. POPE. Those Delphicke Lines with deep Impression tooke; Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spoke. Then thou, our fancy of herself bereaving, POPE. Dost make us Marble with too much conceiving, And so Sepulcher'd in such pompe does lie, Her gray-hair'd synods damning books unread, That Kings for such a Tombe would wish to die. And Bacon trembling for his brazen head. MILTON. The hero William, and the martyr Charles, Or sweetest Shakspearle, fancy's child, One knighted Blackmore, and one pension'd Warble his native wood-notes wild. MILTON. Quarles.POPE. The plain good man, whose actions teach Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain More virtue than a sect can preach, Flatt'rers and bigots, even in Louis'. reign; Purstues his course unsagely blest, And I not strip the gilding off a knave, His tutor whisp'ring in his breast: Unplaced, unpension'd, no man's heir or slave? Nor could he act a purer part POPE. Though he had Tully all by heart; And when he drops the tear on woe, Sat full-blown Bufo, puffed by ev'ry quill, He little knows, or cares to know, Fed by soft dedication all day long, That Epictetus blamed that tear, Horace and he went hand in hand in song. By Heav'n approved, to virtue dear.' POPE. MOORE. Chaucer's worst ribaldry is learn'd by rote, Oh! who that has ever had rapture complete And beastly Skelton Heads of Houses quote. Would ask how we feel it, or why it is sweet; POPE. A UTHORS. 5' No longer now that golden age appears, Might Dryden bless once more our eyes, When patriarch-wits survived a thousand years; New Blackmores and new Milbourns must arise; Now length of fame, our second life, is lost, Nay, should great Homer lift his awful head, And bare threescore is all ev'n that can boast; Zoilus again would start up from the dead. Our sons their fathers' failing language see, POPE. And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be. At length Erasmus, that great injured name, POPE. Stemnm'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age, Less reading than makes felon'scape, And drove those holy Vandals off the stage. Less human genius than God gives an ape, POPE, Can make a Cibber. Eusden ekes out Blackmore's endless line. -POPE. POPE. With equal rays immortal Tully shone: Songs, sonnets, epigrams, the winds uplift, Behind, Rome's genius waits with civic crowns, And whisk them back to Evans, Young, and And the great father of his country owns. Swift. POPE. POPE. Begone, ye critics, and restrain your spite; Most authors steal their works, or buy; Codrus writes on, and will forever write. Garth did not write his own Dispensary. POPE POPE. Who 1~now~ reads Cowley? If he pleases yet, The thoughts of gods let Granville's verse recite, His moral pleases, not his pointed wit. And bring the scenes of op'ning fate to light. POPE. POPE. The lines are weak, another's pleased to say: Yet time ennobles or degrades each line;a thousand such a day. Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day. It brighten'd Craggs's, and may darken thine.POPE. POPE. Be Homer's works your study; Earless on high stood unabash'd Defoe, Thence form your judgment, thence your notions And Tutchin, flagrant from the scourge, below. bring, POPE. And trace the muses upwards to their spring. POPE. Leave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and know See Dionysius Homer's thoughts refine, What's roundly smooth, or languishingly slow; And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line. And praise the easy vigour of a line POPE. Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweet-, Those oft are stratagems which errors seem; ness join. Nor is it Homer nods, but we who dream. POPE. POPE. Dennis and dissonance and captious art, Horace still charms with graceful negligence, And snip-snap short, and interruption smart. And without method talks us into sense; POPE. Will, like a friend, familiarly convey The truest notions in the easiest way. Unhappy Dryden! in all Charles's days POP.. Roscommon only boasts unspotted lays; And in our own, excuse some courtly stains, There are, who to my person pay their court; No whiter page than Addison's remains. I cough like Horace, and, though lean, am short. POPNEp. Amnon's great son one shouldel had too high; Such Ovid's nose, and, sir! you have an eye! Ev'n copious Dryden wanted, or forgot, POPE. The last and greatest art, the art to blot. POPE. Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skewer to write; All books he reads, and all he reads assails, In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, From Dryden's Fables down to DI-y's Tales. Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print. POPE. POPE. 52 A UTHORS. Each staunch polemic, stubborn as a rock, Plutarch, that writes his life, Each fierce logician still expelling Locke, Tells us that Cato dearly loved his wife. Came whip and spur. POPE. POPE. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Thee, bold Longinus, all the Nine inspire, Dipp'd me in ink? my parents' or my own? And bless their critic with a poet's fire. As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, POPE. I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. If Mxvius scribble in Apollo's spite, POPE. There are who judge still worse than he. can Exact Racine and Corneille's noble fire write. Taught us that France had something to admire. POPE. POPE. Milton's strong pinion now no heaven can Silence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls, bound, And makes night hideous; answer him, ye owls. Now, serpent-like, in prose he sweeps the ground. POPE. POPE. Roscommon not more learn'd than good, Now times are changed, and one poetic itch With manners gen'rous as his noble blood; Has seized the court and city, poor and rich: To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known, Sons, sires, and grandsires, all will wear the And ev'ry author's merit but his own. bays, POPE. Our wives read Milton, and our daughters plays; Thy relicks, Rowe, to this fair shrine we trust, To theatres and to rehearsals throng, And sacred place by Dryden's awful dust; And all our grace at table is a song. Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies, To which thy tomb shall guide inquiring eyes. Superior beings, when of late they saw POPE. A mortal man unfold all nature's law, Against your worship when had S-k writ? Admired such wisdom in a mortal shape, Or P —ge pour'd forth the torrent of his wit? And shov'd a Newton as we show an ape. POPE. POPE. Now night descending, the proud scene was o'er, Nature and nature's laws lay hid in night — But lived in Settle's numbers one day more. God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light. POPE. POPE. Shakspeare, whom you and ev'ry playhouse bill Here swells the shelf with Ogilby the great; Style the divine, the matchless, what you will, There, stamp'd with arms, Newcastle shines For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, complete. And grew immortal in his own despite. POPE. POPE. Otway fail'd to polish or refine, The mighty Stagyrite first left the shore, And fluent Shakspeare scarce effaced a liXe. Spread all his sails, and durst the deeps explore; POPE. He steer'd securely, and discover'd far, Led by the light of the Meonian star. Recall those nights that closed thy toilsome days; POPE. Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays. Spenser himself affects the obsolete, POPE. And Sidney's verse halts ill on Roman feet. Then future ages with delight shall see POPE. How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's, looks agree; O thou! whatever title please thine ear, Or in fair series laurell'd bards be shown, Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver! A Virgil there, and here an Addison. Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air, POPE. Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy chair, Go soar with Plato to th' empyreal sphere, Or praise the court, or magnify mankind, To the first good, first perfect, and first fair. Or thy grieved country's copper chains unbind. POPE. POPE. A UTHORS. 53 Swift for closer style, The youngster, who at nine and three But Hoadly for a period of a mile. Drinks with his sisters milk and tea, POPE. From breakfast reads, till twelve o'clock, Burnet and Heylin, Hobbes and Locke. For Swift and him despised the farce of st Buet and Heylin, Hobbes and Loe. PRIOR. The sober follies of the wise and great. POPE. Homer, great bard! so fate ordain'd, arose; Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll, And, bold as were his countrymen in fight, In pleasing memory of all he stole; Snatch'd their fair actions from degrading piose, Now here he sipp'd, now there he plunder'd And set their battles in eternal light. PRIOR. snug, And suck'd o'er all, like an industrious bug. Beneath a verdant laurel's shade, POPE: on Theobald. Horace, immortal bard! supinely laid. PRIOR. Immortal Vida! on whose honour'd brow The poet's bays and critic's ivy grow, Me all too mean for such a task I weet; Cremona now shall ever boast thy name, Yet if the sovereign lady deigns to smile, As next in place to Mantua, next to fame. I'll follow Horace with impetuous heat, POPE. And clothe the verse in Spenser's native style, To Cato, Virgil paid one honest line: PRIOR. 0 let my country's friends illumine mine. Dan Pope, for thy misfortune grieved, POPE. With kind concern and skill has weaved When first young Maro sung of kings and wars, A silken web, and ne'er shall fade Ere warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears, Its colours; gently has he laid Perhaps he seem'd above the critic's law, The mantle o'er thy sad distress, And but froin nature's fountains scorn'd to draw. And Venus shall the texture bless. POPE. PRIOR. Shadw:vIl from the town retires Even rival wits did Voiture's fate deplore, To bless the wood with peaceful lyri: And the gay mourn'd, who never mourn'd Then hey for praise and panegyric. before. PRIOR. POPE. Writing is but just like dice, The truest hearts for Voiture heaved with sighs; And lucky mains make people wise; Voiture was wept by all the brightest eyes. That jumbled words, if fortune throw'em, POPE. Shall well as Dryden form a poem. PRIOR. A monarch's sword when mad vain glory draws, Not Waller's wreath can hide the nation's scars. POPE. I do most heartily despise Whatever Socrates has said, Waller was smooth, but Dryden taught to join Or Tully writ, or Wanley read. The varying verse, the full resounding line, PRIOR. The long majestic march, and energy divine! Though its error may be such POPE. As Knags and Burgess cannot hit, It may feel the nicer touch Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove Of Wycherley's or Congreve's wit. Thy martial spirit or thy social love. PRIOR. POPE. Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay. When once the poet's honour ceases, SIR V. RALEIGH: Verses to Spenser. From reason far his transports rove; And Boileau for eight hundred pieces Horace will our superfluous branches prune, Makes Louis take the wall of Jove. Give us new rules, and set our harps in tune. PRIOR. ROSCOMMON. 54 A UTHORS. Serene and clear harmonious Horace flows, Thrice-happy Duck, employ'd in threshing With sweetness not to be exprest in prose. stubble, ROSCOMMON. Thy toil is lessen'd, and thy profits double. SWIFT. Horace did ne'er aspire to epic bays; Nor lofty Maro stoop to lyric lays. Gay paid his courtship with the crowd, ROSCOMMON. As far as modest pride allow'd; Rejects a servile usher's place, We know that town is but with fishers fraught, And leaves St. James's in disgrace. Where Theseus govern'd and where Plato SWIFT. taught. SANDYS. Dame Nature, as the learned show, Provides each animal its foe. Though gay as mirth, as curious thought sedate, Hounds hunt the hare; the wily fox As elegance polite, as power elate. Devours your geese, the wolf your flocks: SAVAGE: On Pope. Thus envy pleads a natural claim To persecute the muse's fame: On poets, in all times, abusive; This virtue and this moral discipline, This virtue and this moral From Homer down to Pope, inclusive. Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray; SWIFT. Or so devote to Aristotle's checks, As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured. Wit, like wine, from happier climates brought, SHAKSPEARE. Dash'd by these rogues, turns English common draught. Read Hoaier once, and you can read no more, iRea Hoor oceand you read o oor, They pall Moliere's and Lopez's sprightly strain. For all books else appear so mean, so poor, Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read, SWIFT. And Homer will be all the books you need. In Pope I cannot read a line, SHEFFIELD: Essay on Poetiy. But with a sigh I wish it mine; When he can in one couplet fix How many a rustic Milton has pass'd by, More sense than I can do in six. Stifling the speechless longings of his heart SWIFT. In unremitting drudgery and care. How many a vulgar Cato has compell'd Whatever Grecian story tells. His energies, no longer tameless then, SWIFT. To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail. SHELLEY: Queen Al b. Send those to paper-sparing Pope; And, when he sits to write, A little bench of heedless bishops here, No letter with an envelope And there a chancellor in embryo, Could give him more delight. Or bard sublime, if bard may e'er be so, SWIFT. As Milton, Shakspeare, names that ne'er shall As Rochefoucault his maxims drew die. From nature, I believe them true; SHENSTONE: Schzool-JMistr ess. They argue no corrupted mind Witty as Horatius Flaccus, In him: the fault is in mankind. As great a Jacobin as Gracchus, SWIFT. Short, though not as fat, as Bacchus, Now Curll his shop from rubbish drains: Riding on a little jackass. Three genuine tomes of Swift's remains; SYDNEY SMITH: In.pronzptu on e7effrey. And then, to make them pass the glibber, Revised by Tibbald, More, and Cibber. Wild dreams! but such SWIFT. SWIFT. As Plato loved; such as with holy zeal Our Milton worshipp'd. He'll use me as he does my betters, SOUTHEY: Inscrs/ti/on on Henry Martyn. Publish my life, my will, my letters, Revive the libels born to die, Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled. Which Pope must bear as well as I. SPENSER: Faerie Queene. SWIFT. A UTHORS. -A UTHORSHIP. 55 In Raleigh mark their ev'ry glory mix'd; We must be free or die, who speak the tongue Raleigh, the scourge of Spain, whose breast That Shakspeare spake, the faith and morals with all hold The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd. Which Milton held. THOMSON. WORDSWORTH. The patient show'd us the wise course to steer, Meek Walton's heavenly memory. A candid censor and a friend sincere; WORDSWORTH: Walton's Book of Lives. He taught us how to live; and (oh! too high The feather whence the pen The price of knowledge!) taught us how to die. Was shaped that traced the lives of these good TICKELL: on the Death of Addison. men, Though slaves, like birds that sing not in a cage, Dropp'd from an angel's wing. They lost their genius, and poetic rage; WORDSWORTH: /YWalton's Book of Lives. Homers again and Pindars may be found, As thou these ashes, little broolk! wilt bear And his great actions with their numbers Into the Avon, Avon to the tide crown'd. Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed A great deal, my dear liege, depends An emblem yields to friends and enemies, On having clever bards for friends. How the bold Teacher's doctrine, sanctified What had Achilles been without his Homer,- By truth, shall spread, throughout the world disA tailor, woollen-draper, or a comber? persed. DR. WOLCOTT. WORDSWORTH: to Wicki/fe. I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, Why slumbers Pope, who leads the tui. ful train, The sleepless soul that perish'd in his pride; Nor hears that virtue which he love's complain? Of him who walk'd in glory and in joy, YOUNG. Following his plough, along the mountain side. But what in oddness can be more sublime WORDSWORTH. Than S [loane] the foremost toyman of his time? Since every mortal power of Coleridge YOUNG. Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, AUTHORSHIP The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth; And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Each wit may praise it for his own dear sake, Has vanish'd from his lonely hearth. And hint he writ it, if the thing should take. WORDSWORTH. ADDISON. That mighty orb of song, Much thou hast said which I know when The divine Milton. And where thou stol'st from other men; WORDSWORTH. Whereby'tis plain thy light and gifts And when a damp Are all but plagiary shifts. Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand BUTLER: Hzidibras. The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew'Tis pleasant sure to see one's name in print; Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few. Sol ls!tWORDSWORTH. A book's a book although there's nothing in't. WORDSWORTH. BYRON. The sightless Milton, with his hair One hates an author that's all author, fellows Around his placid temples curl'd; In foolscap uniforms turn'd up with ink, And Shaykspeare at his side,-a freight, So very anxious, clever, fine, and jealous, If clay could think and mind were weight, One don't know what to say to them, or think, For him who bore the world. WORDSWORTH. Unless to puff them with a pair of bellows; WORDSWORTH. Of coxcombry's worst coxcombs, e'en the pink For Plato's lore sublime, Are preferable to these shreds of paper, And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite, These unquench'd snuffings of the midnight Enrich'd and beautified his studious mind. taper. WORDSWORTH: fronm the Italian. BYRON. 56 A UTHORSHIP. None but an author knows an author's cares, He was too warm on picking work to dwell, Or fancy's fondness for the child she bears. But faggoted his notions as they fell; COWPER. And if they rhymed and rattled, all was well. DRYDEN. For he writes not for money, nor for praise, Nor to be call'd a wit, nor to wear bays. The hand and head were never lost of those SIR J. DENHAM. Who dealt in dogg'rel, or who punn'd in prose. Who have before, or shall write after thee, DRYDEN. Their works, though toughly laboured, will be No more accuse thy pen, but charge the crime Like infancy or age to man's firm stay. On native sloth, and negligence of time. JOHN DONNE. DRYDEN All authors to their own defects are blind; His knowledge in the noblest useful arts Hadst thou but, Janus-like, a face behind, Was such dead authors could not give, To see the people, what splay mouths they make, But habitudes with those who live. To mark their fingers pointed at thy back. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. RYENhatever truths The unhappy man who once has trail'd a pen Redeem'd from error, or from ignorance, Lives not to please himself, but other men; Thin in their authors, like rich veins of ore, Is always drudging with his life and blood, Your works unite, and still discover more. Yet only eats and drinks what you think good. DRYDEN. DRYDEN: _/,'o. tO Lee's Ccesar Bolfzia. I must disclaim whate'er he can express; Such is the poet;s lot: what happier fate His grovelling sense will show my passion less Does on the works of grave historians wait! DRYDEN. More time they spend, in greater toils engage: Gentle or sharp, according to thy choice, Their volumes swell beyond the thousandth page. To laugh at follies, or to lash at vice. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. If I by chance succeed'Tis not indeed my talent to engage In what I write, and that's a chance indeed, In lofty trifles, or to swell my page Know I am not so stupid, or so hard, With wind and noise. Not to feel praise, or fame's deserved reward. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Yet still thy fools shall stand in thy defence, You exclaim as loud as those that praise, And justify their author's want of sense. For scraps and coach-hire, a young noble's plays. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Thy name, to Phcebus and the muses known, Is it for this they study? to grow pale, Shall in the front of ev'ry page be shown. And miss the pleasures of a glorious meal? DRYDEN For this, in rags accoutred are they seen, Every scribbling man And made the May-game of the public spleen? Grows a fop as fast as e'er he can, DRYDEN. Prunes up, and asks his oracle the glass The bard that first adorn'd our native tongue If pink or purple best become his face? DRYDEN. Tuned to his British lyre this ancient song. DRYDEN. Envy's a sharper spur than pay, And, unprovoked,'twill court the fray;' Th' illiterate writer, empiric-like, applies No author ever spared a brother: To minds diseased unsafe chance remedies: Wits are gamecocks to one another. The learn'd in schools, where knowledge first GAY: Fables. began, Studies with care th' anatomy of man; The scribbler, pinch'd with hunger, writes to Sees virtue, vice, and passions in their cause, dine, And fame from science, not from fortune, draws. And to your genius must conform his line. DRYDEN. GRANVILLE. A UTHORSHIP. 57 From yon bright heaven our author fetch'd They who reach Parnassus' lofty crown his fire, Employ their pains to spurn some others down; And paints the passions that your eyes inspire; And, while self-love each jealous writer rules, Full of that flame, his tender scenes he warms, Contending wits become the sport of fools. And frames his goddess by your matchless POPE. charms. GRANVILLE. Leave flattery to fulsome dedicators, Whom, when they praise, the world believes His works become the frippery of wit. no more BEN JONSON. Than when they promise to give scribbling o'er. Authors are judged by strange capricious rules, POPE. The great ones are thought mad, the small ones Authors alone, with more than savage rage, fools; Unnat'ral war with brother authors wage. Yet sure the best are most severely fated, POPE. For fools are only laughed at,-wits are hated. No rag, no scrap, of all the beau or wit, Blockheads with reason men of sense abhor; That once so flutter'd, and that once so writ. But fool'gainst fool is barb'rous civil war. POPE. Why on all authors then should critics fall? Oft leaving what is natural andfit Since some have writ, and shown no wit at all. ving what is natural and fit, POPE. The current folly proves our ready wit; And authors think their reputation safe, I sought no homage from the race that write; Which lives as long as fools are pleased to laugh. I kept, like Asian monarchs, from their sight: POPE. Poems I heeded, now berhymed so long, Poems I heeded, now berhymed so long, With authors, stationers obey'd the call; No more than thou, great George! a birthday No more than thou, great George a birthday Glory and pain th' industrious tribe provoke, song. songPOPE. And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke. POPE. For thee I dim these eyes and stuff this head Matchless his pen, victorious was his lance With all such readingy as was never read. With all such reading as was never read. Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance. POPE. POPE. A dire dilemma, either way I'm sped; There he stopp'd short, nor since has writ a tittle, If foes they write, if friends they read, me dead. But has the writ to make the most of little, POPE. Like stunted hide-bound trees, that just have got The dog-star rages; nay,'tis past a doubt Sufficient sap at once to bear and rot. All Bedlam or Parnassus is let out; POPE. Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, Some the French writers, some our own despise; They rave, recite, and madden round the land. The ancients only or the moderns prize. POPE. POPE. Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door: The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown, "Sir, let me see your works and you no more!" Wh'o turns a Persian tale for half a crown, POPE. Just writes to make his barrenness appear, And strains from hard-bound brains eight lines Who shames a scribbler? break one cobweb a year. through, POPE. He spins the slight self-pleasing thread anew. p t ~ ~ ~ POE'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill POPE. Appear in writing or in judging ill; He plunged for sense, but found no bottom there; But of the two less dang'rous is th' offence Then writ and flounder'd on in mere despair! To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. POPE. POPE. Shall I in London act this idle part? For-fame with toil we gain, but lose with ease, Composing songs for fools to get by heart. Sure some to vex, but never all to please. POPE. POPE. 58 21 U T7HORSHIP. To write what may securely stand the test Sound judgment is the ground of writing well. Of being well read over thrice at least, ROSCOMMON. Compare each phrase, examine ev'ry line, Weigh ev'ry word, and ev'ry thought refine.. The comprehensive English energy? PROSCOMMON. Is there who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls With desp'rate charcoal round his darken'd The triumphs of Phlegrean Jove he wrote, The triumphs of Phlegrean Jove he wrote, POPE. That all the gods admired his lofty note. SPENSER. Authors are partial to their wit,'tis true; Our chilling climate hardly Our chilling climate hardly bears But are not critics to their judgments too? POPE. A sprig of bay in fifty years; While every fool his claim alleges, A clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, As if it grew in common hedges. Who pens a stanza when he should engross. SWIFT. POPE. An author thus who pants for fame What could thus high thy rash ambition raise? Begins the world with fear and shame; Art thou, fond youth, a candidate for praise? When first in print you see him dread POPE. Each pop-gun levell'd at his head. SWIFT. Yet this false comfort never gives him o'er, That, whilst he creeps, his vig'rous thought can His works were hawk'd in every street, soar. But seldom rose above a sheet. POPE. SWIFT. Some to conceit alone their works confine, Chaste moral writing we may learn fiom hence, And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line. Neglect of which no wit can recompense; POPE. The fountain which from Helicon proceeds, But is it thus you English bards compose? That sacred stream, should never water wneeds. With Runic lays thus tag insipid prose? WALLER. And when you should your heroes' deeds Not content to see rehearse, That others write as carelessly as he. Give us a commissary's list in verse? WALLER. PRIOR. So must the writer whose productions should Choose an author as you choose a friend. PRIOR. Take with the vulgar, be of vfilgar mould. WALLER. The privilege that ancient poets claim, Now turn'd to license by too just a name. Who but thyself the mind and ear can please, ROSCOMMON. With strength and softness, energy and ease? WALLER. None have been with admiration read, But who, besides their learning, were well bred. An author!'Tis a venerable name ROSCOMMON. How few deserve it, and what numbers claim! Unblest with sense above their peers refined, Make the proper use of each extreme, Make the proper use of each extreme, Who shall stand up, dictators to mankind? And write with fury, but correct with phlegm. Nay, who dare shine, if not in virtue's cause, ROSCOMMON. lThat sole proprietor of just applause? Every busy little scribbler now YOUNG. Swells with the praises which he gives himself, At that tribunal stands the writing tribe, At that tribunal stands the writing tribe, And, taking sanctuary in the crowd, And, taking sanctuary in the crowd, Which nothing can intimidate or bribe: Brags of his impudence, and scorns to mend. Time is the judge. RoscoMMON. YOUNG. Your author always will the best advise: Authors now find, as once Achilles found, Fall when he falls, and when he rises, rise. The whole is mortal if a part's unsound. ROSCOMMON. YOUNG. A UTUM:N. —A VA RICE. 59 Hot, envious, proud, the scribbling fry Her soul abhorring avarice, Burn, hiss, and bounce, waste paper, ink, and die. Bounteous; but almost bounteous to a vice. YOUNG. DRYDEN. But more have been by avarice opprest, AUTUMN. And heaps of money crowded in the chest. DRYDEN. No spring or summer's beauty hath such grace Young men to imitate all ills are prone As I have seen in one autumnal face. But are compell'd to avarice alone; JOHN TDONNE. For then in virtue's shape they follow vice. When bounteous Autumn rears his head, DRYDEN. He joys to pull the ripen'd pear. Nor love his peace of mind destroys, DRYDEN. Nor wicked avarice of wealth. DRYDEN. Autumnal heat declines, Ere heat is quite decay'd, or cold begun. Go, miser! go: for lucre sell thy soul; DRYDEN. Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole, Autumn succeeds, a sober, tepid age, That men may say, when thou art dead and gone, Nor froze with fear, nor boiling into rage; See what a vast estate he left his son! Last, Winter creeps along with tardy pace, DRYDEN. Sour is his front, and furrow'd is his face. DRYDEN. For he who covets gain in such excess Does by dumb signs himself as much express But see the fading many-colour'd woods, As if in words at length he show'd his mind. Shade deep'ning over shade, the country round DRYDEN. Imbrown; crowded umbrage, dusk and dun, Imbrown; crowded umbrage, dusk and dun, The base wretch who hoards up all he can Of every hue, from wan declining green Is praised and call'd a careful thrifty man. To sooty dark.DRYDEN THOMSON: Seasons. For should you to extortion be inclined, The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, Your cruel guilt will little booty find. A gentler mood inspires; for now the leaf DRYDEN. Incessant rustles from the mournful grove, Oft starting such as, studious, walk below, a iser'midst his store, And slowly circles through the waving air. Who grasps and grasps till he can hold no more. DRYDEN. THOMSON: Seasons. DRYDEN. As thy strutting bags with money rise, The love of gain is of an equal size. DRYDEN. AVARICE. From hence the greatest part of ills descend, O cursed love of gold; when for thy sake When lust of getting more will have no end. The fool throws up his interest in both worlds, DRYDEN. First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come! But the base miser starves amidst his store, BLAIR: Grave. Broods o'er his gold, and, griping still at more, Sits sadly pining, and believes he's poor. The more we have, the meaner is our store; DRYDEN. The unenjoying craving wretch is poor. CREECH. Why lose we life in anxious cares To lay in hoards for future years? Up, up, says Avarice! thou snor'st again, Can these, when tortured by disease, Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st, but all in vain:Cheer our sick hearts, or purchase ease? The tyrant Lucre no denial takes; Can these prolong one gasp of breath, At his command th' unwilling sluggard wakes. Or calm the troubled hour of death? DRYDEN. GAY. 60 A VARICE. Be thrifty, but not covetous; therefore give Then, in plain prose, were made two sorts of Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend, his due: men; Never was scraper brave man. Get to live; To squander some, and some to hide agen. Then live, and use it; else it is not true POPE. That thou hast gotten: surely, use alone Corruption, like a general flood, Makes money not a contemptible stone. Shall deluge all; and av'rice creeping on Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun. He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands POPE. His bonds of debt and mortgages of lands; Be niggards of advice on no pretence; Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, For the worst avarice is that of sense. Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. POPE. DR. JOHNSON. This avarice Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root. The love of gold, that meanest rage,SHASPEARE. And latest folly of man's sinking age, Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, There grows While nobler passions wage their heated strife, In my most ill-composed affection, such Comes skulking last, with selfishness and fear, A stanchless avarice, that wre I ling, And dies collecting lumber in the rear. I should cut off the nobles for their lands. MOORE. I SzISHAKSPEARE. Thoughtful of gain, I all the live-long day He shall spend mine honour with his shame; Consume in meditation deep. As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. JOHN PHILIPS. SHAKSPEARE. Is yellow dirt the passipn of thy life? See, sons, what things you are! how quickly Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife. nature POPE. Falls to revolt, when gold becomes her object!'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ For this the foolish overcareful fathers To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy; T Have broke their sleeps with thought, their Is it less strange the prodigal should waste brains with care. SHAKSPEARE. His wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste? POPE. Then avarice'gan through his veins to inspire His greedy flames, and kindle life-devouring Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, fire. Sees but a backward steward for the poor; SPENSER. This year a reservoir, to keep and spare; The next, a fountain spouting through his heir. Regard of worldly muck doth foully blend POPE. And low abase the high heroic spirit. SPENSER. Benighted wanderers the forest o'er, Curse the saved candle and unopening door; Whether thy counter shine with sums untold, While the gaunt mastiff, growling at the gate, And thy wide-grasping hand grows black with Affrights the beggar whom he longs to eat. gold. POPE. SWIFT. When Hopkins dies, a thousand lights attend Who, lord of millions, trembles for his store, The wretch who living saved a candle's end; And fears to give a farthing to the poor; Should'ring God's altar a vile image'stands, Proclaims that penury will be his fate, Belies his features, nay, extends his hands. And, scowling, looks on charity with hate. POPE. DR. WOLCOTT. They meanly pilfer, as they bravely fought, Some, o'er-enamour'd of their bags, run mad, Now save a nation, and now save a groat. Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread. POPE. YOUNG: Nifrit T5houghts. BA TTLE. 61 BATTLE. A cloud of smoke envelops either host, And all at once the combatants are lost: O Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns, Od Marcia, let mes holp e t oncer, Darkling they join adverse, and shock unseen, And gentle wishes, follow me to battle. ADDISON: Cato. Coursers with coursers justing, men with men. DRYDEN. If he that is in battle slain Be in the bed of honour lain, Amidst whole heaps of spices lights a ball, He that is beaten may be said And now their odours arm'd against thenm To lie in honour's truckle-bed. fly: BUTLER: Hudibras. Some preciously by shatter'd porcelain fall, And some by aromatic splinters die. What perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron! What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps Their standard, planted on the battlement, Do dog him still with after-claps! Despair and death among the soldiers sent. BUTLER: Hwudibras. DRYDEN. And now the field of death, the lists, He to the town return'd, Were enter'd by antagonists, Attended by the chiefs who fought the field, And blood was ready to be broach'd, Now friendly mix'd, and in one troop compell'd. When Hudibras in haste approach'd. DRYDEN. BUTLER: Hu-dibras. Thus fights Ulysses, thus his fame extends; A gen'ral sets his army in array A formidable man, but to his firiends. In vain, unless he fight and win the day. DRYDEN. SIR J. DENHAM. Our swords so wholly did the fates employ, The Grecians rally, and their powers unite; That they, at length, grew weary to destroy; With fury charge us, and renew the fight. Refused the work we brought, and out of breath, DRYDEN. Made sorrow and despair attend for death. Would you the advantage of the fight delay DRYDEN. If, striking first, you were to win the day? I fought and fell like one, but death deceived DRYDEN. me: He with his sword unsheathed on pain of life, I wanted weight of feeble Moors upon me,, Cbommands both combatants to cease their strife. To crush my soul out. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there; Who, single combatant, Their congress in the field great Jove with- Duel'd their armies rank'd in proud array; stands: Himself an army. Both doom'd to fall, but fall by greater hands. MILTON. DRYDEN. Them, with fire and hostile arms, Why asks he what avails him not in fight, Fearless assault; and to the brow of heav'n And would but cumber and retard his flight, Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss. In which his only excellence is placed? MIITON. You give him death that interrupt his haste. So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell DRYDEN. Grew darker at their frown. They follow their undaunted king; MILTON. Crowd through their gates; and, in the fields of The pierced battalions disunited fall light, In heaps, on heaps: one fate o'erwhelms them The shocking squadrons meet in mortal fight. all. DRYDEN. POPE. Two battles your auspicious cause has won;'Tis ours by craft and by surprise to gain; Thy sword can perfect what it has begun.'Tis yours to meet in arms, and battle in the plain DRYDEN. PRIOR. 62 BA TTLE.- BEA UTY Our battle is more full of names than yours, True be thy words, and worthy of thy praise, Our men more perfect in the use of arms, That warlike feats dost highly glorify; Our armour all as strong, our cause the best; Therein have I spent all my youthly days, Then reason wills our hearts should be as good. And many battles fought, and many frays. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. He which hath no stomach to this fight, From vaster hopes than this he seem'd to fall, Let him depart; his passport shall be made. That durst attempt the British admiral: SHAKSPEARE. From her broadsides a ruder flame is thrown Than from the fiery chariot of the sun. O noble English! that could entertain, WALER. With half their forces, the full pride of France, And let another half stand laughing by, All out of work, and cold for action. Loveliest of women! heaven is in thy soul; Beauty and virtue shine forever round thee, To-morrowr in the battle think on me, Bright'ning each other! thou art all divine. And fall thy edgeless sword; despair, and die. ADDISON. SHAI(SPEARE. She moves! life wanders up and down In that day's feats Through all her face, and lights up every charm. He proved the best man i' th' field; and for his ADDISON. meed In praising Chloi-is, moon, and stars, and skies, Was brow-bound with the oak. Are quickly made to match her face and eyes; SHAKSPEARE. And gold and rubies, with as little care, Mine emulation To fit the colours of her lips and hair; Hath not that honour in't it had; for' Alnd mixing suns, and flowers, and pearls, and I thought to crush him in an equal force, stones, True sword to sword. Make them seem all complexions at once. SHAKSPEARE. BUTLER. The interruption of their churlish drums The light of love, the purity of grace, Cuts off more circumstance; they are at hand The mind, the music breathing from her face, To parley, or to fi~ght. The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, SIAKSPEARE. And oh! that eye was in itself a soul. BYRON: Bride of Abydos. In this kind to come, in braving arms, Be his own carver, and cut out his way, She walks in beauty, like the night To find out right with wrong,-it may not be. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; SHAKISPEARE. And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Against whose fury, and th' unmatched force, Thus mellow'd to that tender light The aweless lion could not wage the fight. Which heaven to gaudy day denies. SHAKSPEARE. BYRON: Hebrezo iMVelodies. Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; She was a form of life and light, I bear a charmed life, which must not yield That, seen, became a part of sight; To one of woman born. And rose, where'er I turn'd my eye, SHAKSPEARE. The morning star of memory. Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath, BYRON: Giaour. That they may crush down, with a heavy fall, Like pensive beauty smiling in her tears. Th' usurping helmets of our adversaries! CAMPBELL. SHARKSPEARE. It is not beauty I demand, Themselves at discord fell, A crystal brow, the moon's despair, And cruel combat join'd in middle space, Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand, With horrible assault and fury fell. Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair. SPENSER. CAREW. BE-A UTY: 63 Think not,'cause men flatt'ring say, Such were the features of her heav'nly face; Y' are fresh as April, sweet as May, Her limbs were form'd with such harmonious Bright as the morning star, grace; That you are so. So faultless was the frame, as if the whole CAREW. Had been an emanation of the soul. DRYDEN. If ev'ry sweet, and ev'ry grace, Must fly from that forsaken face. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her shapes, her CAREW..features, Harmony, with ev'ry grace, Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand; by Love Plays in the fair proportions of her face. Himself in love. ELIZABETH CARTER. DRYDEN. Vouchsafe, illustrious Ormond, to behold Metals may blazon common beauties; she What pow'r the charms of beauty had of old. Makes pearls and planets humble heralldry.DRvDEN. JOHN CLEAVELAND. Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Where such radiant lights have shone, Who can tread sure on the smooth slipp'ry way? No wonder if her cheeks be grown Pleased with the passage, we glide swiftly on, Sunburnt with lustre of her own. And see the dangers which we cannot shun. JOHN CLEAVELAND. DRYDEN. Where lilies, in a lovely brown, When factious rage to cruel exile drove Inoculate carnation. The queen of beauty and the court of love, JOHN CLEAVELAND. The muses droop'd with their forsaken arts. DRYDEN. Beauty or wit is all I find. COWLEY. And she that was not only passing fair, But was withal discreet and debonair, Beauty! thou wild fantastic ape, Beau*y! thou wild fantastic ape,. Resolved the passive doctrine to fulfil. Who dost in ev'ry country change thy shape: Resolved the passive doctrine to fulfil. DRYDE N. Here black; there brown; here tawny; and there white! But none, ah! none can animate the lyre, Thou fiatt'rer, who comply'st with ev'ry sight! And the mute strings with vocal souls inspire: Who hast no certain what, nor where. Whether the learn'd Minerva be her theme/ COWLEY. Or chaste Diana bathing in the stream; None can record their heav'nly praise so well Beauty, sweet love! is like the morning dew, As Helen, in whose eyes ten thousand cupids Whose short refresh upon the tender green dwell. Cheers for a time,-but till the sun doth shew,- DRYDEN. And straight is gone as it had never been. DANIEL. Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, DANIEL. The pow'r of beauty I remember yet. All the beauties of the court besides DRYDEN. Are mad in love, and dote upon your person. Few admired the native red and white SIR J. DENHAM. Till poets dress'd them up to charm the sight. She by whose lines proportion should be DRYDEN. Examined, measure of all symmetry; Her who fairest does appear, Whom had that ancient seen, who thought souls Crown her queen of all the year. m DRYDEN. made Of harmony, he would at next have said No mortal tongue can half the beauty tell; That harmony was she. For none but hands divine could work so well. DONNE. DRYDEN. Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies; Beauty, and youth, Choose this face, changed by no deformities. And sprightly hope, and short-enduring joy. DONNE. DRYDEN. 64 BEA UTlY His neck, his hands, his shoulders, and his So sleek her skin, so faultless was her make, breast, Ev'n Juno did unwilling pleasure take Did next in gracefulness and beauty stand To see so fair a rival. To breathing figures. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Her heav'nly form too haughtily she prized; On sev'ral parts a sev'ral praise bestow: His person hated, and his gifts despised. The ruby lips, and well-proportion'd nose, DRYDEN. The snowy brow, the raven glossy hair, Her dress, her shape, her matchless grace, The dimpled chin. Were all observed, as well as heav'nly face; DRYDEN'. With such a peerless majesty she stands, He through a little window cast his sight, As in that day she took the crown. Through thick of bars that gave a scanty light; DRvDEN. But ev'n that glimm'ring served him to descry These look like the workmanship of heav'n: Th' inevitable charms of Emily. This is the porcelain clay of human kind, DRYDEN. And therefore cast into these noble moulds. The young AEmilia, fairer to be seen DRYDEN. Than the fair lily on the flow'ry green. I pass their form and every charming grace. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The bloom of beauty other years demands, The charming Lausus, full of youthful fire, Nor will be gather'd by such wither'd hands. To Turnus only second in the grace DRYDEN. Of manly mien, and features of the face. DRYDEN. I take this garland, not as given by you, *t 1 m1 vt Xd m Since my Orazia's death I have not seen But as my merit and my beauty's cdue. DRYDEN. A beauty so deserving to be queen. DRYDEN. Down fell the beauteous youth; the yawning wound, The beauty I beheld has struck me dead; Guwsh'dout ind purple stream, and stai theUnknowingly she strikes, and kills by chance; Gush'cl out in purple stream, and stain'd the Poison is in her eyes, and death in ev'ry glalnce. ground. DRYDEN.DRYDEN. What further fear of danger can there be? bOur phenix queen was there pourtray'd; too Beauty, which captives all things, sets me free. bright; DRYDEN. Beauty alone could beauty take so right. DRYDEN. Daughter of the rose, whose cheeks unite The diff'ring titles of the red and white; Beauty a monarch is, Who heav'n's alternate beauty well display, Which kingly power magnificently proves The blush of morning and the milky way. By crowds of slaves, and peopled empire loves. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Blood, rapine, massacres were cheaply bought, 0 race divine! So mighty recompense your beauty brought. For beauty still is fatal to the line. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Beauteous Helen shines among the rest; The beauties of this place should mourn; Tall, slender, straight, with all the graces blest. The immortal fruits and flow'rs at my return DRRDEN. Should hang their wither'd head. The well-proportion'd shape, and beauteous face, DRYDEN. Shall never more be seen by mortal eyes. DRYDEN. As Thessalian steeds the race adorn, So rosy-colour'd Helen is the pride Yet all combined, Of Lacedemon and of Greece beside. Your beauty and my impotence of mind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. -BEA UTY. 65 Ruddy his lips, and fresh and fair his hue; Of beauty sing, her shining progress view, Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen, From clime to clime the dazzling light pursue. Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin. GRANVILLE. DRYDEN. Her cheeks their freshness lose and wonted grace, Some angel copied, while I slept, each grace, And an unusual paleness spreads her face. And moulded ev'ry feature from my face; GRANVILLE. Such majesty does from her forehead rise, Wyndham like a tyrant throws the dart, Her cheeks such blushes cast, such rays her eyes. And takes a cruel pleasure in the smart; Proud of the ravage that her beauties make, Sure I am, unless I win in arms, Delights in wounds, and kills for killing's sake. To stand excluded from Emilia's charms. GRANVILLE. DRYDEN. A lovelier nymph the pencil never drew; Trust not too much to that enchanting face; For the fond Graces form'd her easy mien, Beauty's a charm, but soon the charm will pass. And heaven's soft azure in her eye was seen. DRYDEN. HAYLEY. For my own share one beauty I design; As lamps burn silent with unconscious light, Engage your honours that she shall be mine. So modest ease in beauty shines most bright; DRYDEN. Unaiming charms with edge resistless, fall, And she who means no mischief does it all. When I view the beauties of thy face, AARON HILL. I fear not death, nor dangers, nor disgrace. DRYDEN. Who sees a soul in such a body set, Might love the treasure for the cabinet. A vaile obscured the sunshine of her eyes, BEN JONSON. The rose within herself her sweetness closed; A thing of beauty is a joy forever; Each ornament about her seemly lies, Each ornament about her seemly lies, Its loveliness increases; it wvill never By curious chance, or careless art, composed. Pass into nothingness. FAIRFAX. KEATS. The same that left thee by the cooling stream, Where none admire,'tis useless to excel; Safe from sun's heat, but scorch'd with beauty's Where none are beaux,'tis vain to be a belle. beam. LORD LYTTELTON: Soliloquzy on a Bezauty/ ins FAIRFAX. te Counlzty. Fairest blossoms drop with every blast; Oh, she is fairer than the evening air, But the brown beauty will like hollies last. Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars. GAY. MARLOWE: FnztSts. Narcissus' change to the vain virgin shows, While in the dark on thy soft hand I hung, Who trusts to beauty, trusts the fading rose. And heard the tempting siren in thy tongue, GAY. What flames, what darts, what anguish I endured! Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, But when the candle enter'd, I was cured. More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day. MARTIAL. GAY. They said her cheek of youth was beautiful, The toilet, nursery of charms, Till with'ring sorrow blanch'd the white rose Completely furnish'd with bright beauty's arms, there. The patch, the powder-box, pulvil, perfumes. MATURIN. GAY. Beauteous as vision seen in dreamy sleep Of beauty sing: By holy maid on Delphi's haunted steep, Let others govern or defend the state, Mid the dim twilight of the laurel grove: Plead at the bar, or manage a debate. Too fair to worship, too divine to love! GRANVILLE. MILMAN. 5 66 BEA UTY Her grace of motion, and of look, the smooth His grave rebuke, And swimming majesty of step and tread, Severe in youthful beauty, added grace. The symmetry of form and feature, set MILTON. The soul afloat, even like delicious airs The soul afloat, even like delicious airs His fair large front and eye sublime declared Of flute and harp. Absolute rule. MILTON. Beauty is nature's coin, must not be hoarded, So lovely fair! But must be current, and the good thereof That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, now Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself: Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd. If you let slip time, like a neglected rose MILTON. It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. What need a vermei l-tincture d lip for that, MILTON. Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn? Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown MILTON. In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, All beaming with light as those young features Where most may wonder. MILTON. are, There's a light round thy heart that is lovelier Beauty is excell'd by manly grace, far; And wisdom, which alone is truly fair. It is not thy cheek-'tis the soul dawning clearMILTON. Though its innocent blush makes thy beauty so'Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange dear: power, As the sky we look up to, though glorious and After offence returning, to regain fair, Love once possest. Is look'd up to more because heaven is there! MILTON. MOORE. Beauty stands'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, In the admiration only of weak minds But the joint force and full result of all. Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes POPE. Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy; Love raised on beauty will like that decay;.At every sudden slighting cquite abash'dM. Our hearts may bear its slender chain a day: ~M~ILTOhN. As flow'ry bands in wantonness are worn, Here only weak, A morning's pleasure, and at evening torn. Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance. POPE.' MILTON. Happy, and happy still she might have proved, How many have with a smile made small Were she less beautiful, or less beloved. account POPE. Of beauty, and her lures; easily scorn'd The nymph surveys him, and beholds the grace All her assaults, on worthier things intent! Of charming features, and a youthful face. MILTON. POPE. Or should she, confident O shon be, a onie, Besides, he's lovely far above the rest, As sitting queen adorn'd on beauty's throne,, With you immortal, and with beauty blest. Descend, with all her winning charms begirt, POPE. T' enamour. MILTON. A scene where, if a god should cast his sight, What admir'st thou, what transports thee so? A god might gaze and wonder with delight! An outside? fair, no doubt, and worthy well Joy touch'd the messenger of heav'n; he stay'd Thy cherishing and thy love. Entranced, and all the blissful haunts survey'd. MILTON. POPE. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould But beauty's triumph is well-timed retreat, Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment! As hard a science to the fair as great. MILTON. POPE. BEA UTY. 6 7 Some nymphs there are too conscious of their Mature the virgin rwas, of Egypt's race; face; Grace shaped her limbs, and beauty deck'd her These swell their prospects, and exalt their pride, face. When offers are disdain'd, and love denied. PRIOR. POPE. I This forehead, where your verse has said The fair The Loves delighted and the Graces play'd. Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace, PRIOR. And calls forth all the wonders of her face. Take heed, my dear, youth flies apace; POPE. As well as Cupid, Time is blind; Trust not too much your now resistless charms; Soon must those glories of thy face Those age or sickness soon or late disarms. The fate of vulgar beauty find. POPE. The thousand loves, that arm thy potent eye, Must drop their quivers, flag their wings, and die. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, PRIOR. Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide; If to her share some female errors fall, Another nymph with fatal pow'r may rise, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. To damp the sinking beams of C-elia's eyes; POPE. With haughty pride may hear her charms confest, And scorn the ardent vows that I have blest. Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear, PRIOR. Consider'd singly, or beheld too near; Which but proportion'd to their light or place, Venus! take my votive glass: Due distance reconciles to form and grace. Since I am not what I was, POPE. What from this day I shall be, Venus! let me never see. What winning graces, what majestic mien! PRIOR. She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen. POPE. Or youthful poets fancy when they love? Beauties, like tyrants, old and friendless grown, ROWE: Fair Pepnitvet. Yet hate repose, and dread to be alone; Worn out in public, weary evtry eye, The bloom of opening flowers' unsullied beauty, Worn out in public, weary ev'ry eye,. Nor leave one sigh behind them when they die. Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears, POPE. And looks like nature in the world's first spring. ROWE. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, POPE. A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly, A flower that dies when first it'gins to bud, Say, why are beauties praised and honour'd most, A brittle glass that's broken presently The wise man's passion and the vain man's toast?? A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford? Lost, faded, broken, dead within Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. VVhy angels call'd, and angel-like adored? SHASPEARE. POPE. You still, fair mother, in your offspring trace Beauty, wit, high birth, desert in service, The stock of beauty destined for the race; Love, friendship, charity, are sue Kind Nature, forming them, the pattern took To envious an calumniating time. From heav'n's first work, and Eve's original SHAKSPEARE. look. Beauty does varnish age as if new born, PRIOR. And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. That air and harmony of shape express, SHAKSPEARE. iF~ine by degrees and beautifully less. Since she did neglect her looking-glass, PRIOR. And threw her sun-expelling mask away, Bracelets of pearl gave roundness to her arm, The air hath starved the roses in her cheek, And ev'ry gem augmented ev'ry charm.' And pitch'd the lily tincture of her face. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 68 BEA-4 UTY She means to tangle mine eyes too: Young budding virgin, fair and fiesh and sweet,'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, Whither away? or where is thy abode? Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, SHAKSPEARE. That can entame my spirits to your worship. gBeauty is a witch, SHAKSPEARE. Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. These black masks SHAKSPEARE. Proclaim an enshield beauty, ten times louder As the snake, roll'd in the flow'ry bank, As the snake, roll'd in the flow'ry bank, Than beauty could display. SHAKbaPEARE. With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child, Tell me, That for the beauty thinks it excellent. Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman, SHAKSPEARE. Such war of white and red within her cheeks? SHAIRSPEA1RE. 0, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! SHAKISPEARE. SHAISPEARE. The lover, frantic,'Twas pretty, though a plague, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. To see him ev'ry hour: to sit and draw SHAKSPEARE. His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice, In our heart's table. Thou handiest in thy discourse. SHAKISPEARE. A combination and a form indeed KIate, like the hazel twig, T~Where every god did seem to set his seal, Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue To give the world assurance of a ma REn. As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels. SHAISPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. See what a grace was seated on his brow: Black brows Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; Become some women best, so they be in a semi- An eye like Mars, to threaten and command. circle SHAKSPEARE. Or a half-moon, made with a pen. Read o'er the volume of his lovely face, SHAISPEARE. And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; With untainted eye Examine every several lineament, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And what obscure in this fair volume lies And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. Find written in the margin of his eyes. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I've perused her well; A night of fretful passion may consume Beauty and honour in her are so mingled All that thou hast of beauty's gentle bloom; That they have caught the king. And one distemper'd hour of sordid fear SHAKSPEARE. Print on thy brow the wrinkles of a year. I have mark'd SHERIDAN: on Fezale Gamzeslers. A thousand blushing apparitions This doth lead me to her hand, Start into her face; a thousand innocent shames Of my first love the fatal band, In angel whiteness bear away those blushes. Where whiteness doth forever sit; SHAKSPEARE. Nature herself enamell'd it. Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem SIR P. SIDNEY. By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! Disdain not me, although I be not fair: The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem Doth beauty keep which never sun can burn, For that sweet odour which doth in it live. Nor storms do turn? SHAKSPEARE. I SIR P. SIDNEY. BEA UTY 69 Lips never part but that they show What great despite doth fortune to thee bear, Of precious pearls the double row. Thus lowly to abase thy beauty bright, SIR P. SIDNEY. That it should not deface all other lesser light? SPENSER. Doth even beauty beautify, And most bewitch the wretched eye? So long as Guyon with her communed, SIR P. SIDNEY. Unto the ground she cast her modest eye; And ever and anon, with rosy red, In her cheeks the vermil red did shew, In h er cheeks nthe vberfil red did shew, The bashful blood her snowy cheeks did dye. Like roses in a bed of lilies shed; SPENSER. The which ambrosial odours from them threw, She doth display And gazer's sense with double pleasure fed. The gate with pearls and rubies richly dight, SPENSER. Through which her words so wise do make The blazing brightness of her beauty's beam, their way. And glorious light of her sun-shining face, SPENSER. To tell, were as to strive against the stream. Fairer than fairest, in his faiing eye, SPENSER. Whose sole aspect he counts felicity. SPENSER. The brightness of her beauty clear, There a noble cre The ravish'd hearts of gazeful men might rear Of lords and ladies stood on every side, 2'o admiration of that heavenly light. Which with their presence fair the place much beautified. Upon her eyelids many graces sat, SPENSER. Under the shadow of her even brows, Beauty's empires, like to greater states, Working bellgards and amorous retraite; Working bellgards and amorous retraite; Have certain periods set, and hidden fates, And every one her with a grace endows. SIR J. SUCKLING. SPENSER. Dost see how unregarded now Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not, That piece of beauty passes? But heavenly portrait of bright angel's hue, There was a time when I did vow Clear as the sky, withouten blame or blot, To that alone: Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew. But mark the fate of faces. SPENSER. SIR J. SUCKLING. How red the roses flush up in her cheeks, Wonder not much if thus amazed I look; And the pure snow with goodly vermil stain, Since I saw you I have been planet-struck; Like crimson dyed in grain. A beauty, and so rare, I did descry. SPENSER. SIR J. SUCKLING. Take heed, mine eyes, how ye do stare There's no such thing as that we beauty call, Henceforth too rashly on that guileful net; It is mere cosenage all: In which, if ever eyes entrapped are, Out of her bands ye by no means shall get. Liked certain colours mingle so and so, SPENSER. Liked certain colours mingle so and so, SPENSER. That doth not tie me now from chusing new. Her face right wondrous fair did seem to be, SIR J. SUCKLING. That her broad beauty's beam great brightness Oh! it would please the gods to split threw Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit: Through the dim shade, that all men might it see. No age could furnish out a pair SPENSER. Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair; Fair is my love With half the lustre of your eyes, When the rose in her cheek appears, With half your wit, your years, and size. Or in her eyes the fire of love doth spark. SWIFT. SPENSER. You'll be no more your former you; Her cheeks like apples which the sun had But for a blooming nymph will pass, rudded. Just fifteen coming summer's grasp. SPENSER. SWIFT. 70 BEA UTY -BEA UX. -BIaDS. Nor should my praises owe their truth The stars of midnight shall be dear To beauty, dress, or paint, or youth; To her; and she shall lean her ear.'Twere grafting on an annual stock, In many a secret place That must our expectations mock, Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And, making one luxuriant shoot, And beauty born of murmuring sound Die the next year for want of root. Shall pass into her face. SWIFT. SWIFT. WORDSWORTH. A native grace Sat fair proportion'd on her polish'd limbs, What's true beauty but fair virtue's face,Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, Virtue made visible in outward grace? Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness YOUNG. Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, Needs not the foreign aid of orn ament, XsbWhat's female beauty, but an air divine, But is, when unadorn'd, ador the most. Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine? The sun's oppressive ray, the roseate bloom They, like the sun, irradiate all between; Of beauty blasting, gives the glossy hue The body charms, because the soul is seen. And feature gross. Hence men are often captives of a face, THOMSON.- They know not why, of no peculiar grace: Such madd'ning draughts of beauty Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptured thought. bear, THOMSON. Some, none resist, though not exceeding fair. YOUNG. In Britain's lovely isle a shining throng YOUNG. War in his cause, a thousand beauties strong. TICKELL. BEAUX. Fame of thy beauty and thy youth Why round our coaches crowd the whiteAmong the rest me hither brought; gloved beaux? Finding this fame fall short of truth Why bows the side box from its inmost rows? Made me stay longer than I thought. POPE. WALLER. There heroes' wits are kept in pond'rous vases, You caln with single look inflame And beaux' in snuff-boxes and tweezer cases. The coldest breast, the rudest tame. POPE. WALLER. Visits, plays, and powdered beaux. And in the symmetry of her parts is found. SWIFT. A pow'r like that of harmony and sound. H Hlis genius mwas below WALLER. This royal fair The skill of ev'ry common beau; Who, though he cannot spell, is wise Shall, when the blossom of her beauty's blown, Enough to read a lady's eyes See her great brother on the British throne. And will each accidental glance Interpret for a kind advance. War brings ruin where it should amend; SWIFT. But beauty, with a bloodless conquest, finds A welcome sov'reignty in rudest minds. WALLER. The raven, used by such impertinence, Delia, the queen of love, let all deplore! Delia, the queen of love, let all deplore! Grew passionate, it seems, and took offence. Delia, the queen of beauty, is no more. ADDISON. WALSH. The face that in the morning sun Each bird gives o'er its note, the thrush alone Ve thought so wondrous fair, Fills the cool grove when all the rest are gone. Hath faded ere its course was run Harmonious bird! daring till night to stay, Beneath its golden hair. And glean the last remainder of the day. PROFESSOR JOHN WILSON. EDMUND BURKE, Mt. I6. BIRDS. 7 1 Teach me, 0 lark! with thee to greatly rise, Nice-finger'd art must emulate in vain, T' exalt my soul and lift it to the skies; But cawing rooks, and kites that swim sublime To make each worldly joy as mean appear, In still repeated circles, screaming loud; Unworthy care, when heavenly joys are near. The jay, the pie, and e'en the boding owl EDMUND BURKE, gt. 16. That hails the rising moon, have charms for me. COWPER: Task. The nightingale, their only vesper-bell, Sung sweetly to the rose the day's farewell. Whom call we gay? that honour has been long BYRON. The boast of mere pretenders to the name: I saw the expectant raven fly, The innocent are gay,-the lark is gay Who scarce could wait till both should die, That dries his feathers saturate with dew Ere his repast began. Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams BYRON. Of day-spring overshoot his humble nest. Ah! nut-brown partridges! ah, brilliant pheas-COWPER. ants! The morning muses perch like birds, and sing And ah,ye poachers!'Tis no sport forpeasants. Among his branches. BYRON. I CRASHAW. So the struck eagle stretch'd upon the plain, Dost thou use me as fond children do No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Their birds, show me my freedom in a string, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And when thou'st play'd with me a while, then And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart. pull BYRON. Me back again, to languish in my cage? SIR W. DAVENANT. The winglets of the fairy humming-bird, Like atoms of the rainbow flitting round. Thou marry'st every year CAMPBELL. The lyric lark and the grave whispering dove, The sparrow that neglects his life for love, Two eagles, The household bird with the red stomacher. That mounted on the wings, together still DONNE. Their strokes extended. CHAPMAN. He rounds the air, and breaks the hymnic notes In birds, heav'n's choristers, organic throats;'Tis the merry nightingale is the merry nightingale Which, if they did not die, might seem to be That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates, A A tenth rank in the heav'nly hierarchy. With fast, thick warble, his delicious notes, DONNE. As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth Tongued like the night-crow. His love-chant, and disburden his full soul DONNE Of all its music! The winds were hush'd, no leaf so small COLERIDGE. At all was seen to stir; A bird that flies about, Whilst tuning to the water's fall And beats itself against the cage, The small birds sang to her. Finding at last no passage out, DRAYTON. It sits and sings. C EY. With her nimble quills his soul did seem to hover, Nyteb aCOWLEY.mAnd eye the very pitch that lusty bird did cover. Nay, the birds' rural music too DRAYTON. Is as melodious and as free As if they sung to pleasure you. And here th' access a gloomy grove defends; COWLEY. And here th' unnavigable lake extends; Foolish swallow, what dost thou O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, So often at my window do, No bird presumes to steer his airy flight. With thy tuneless serenade? DRDEN. COWLEY. Hence men and beasts the breath of life obtain, Ten thousand warblers cheer the day, and one And birds of air, and monsters of the main. The live-long night: nor these alone whose notes DRYDEN. 72 BIRDS. As callow birds, For still methought she sung not far away; Whose mother's kill'd in seeking of the prey, At last I found her on a laurel spray: Cry in their nest, and think her long away, Close by my side she sat, and fair in sight, And at each leaf that flies, each blast of wind, Full in a line against her opposite. Gape for the food which they must never find. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The prisoner with a spring from prison broke, Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, Then stretch'd his feather'd falls with all his And wing their hasty flight to happier lands. might, DRYDEN. And to the neighb'ring maple wing'd his flight. DRYDEN. All hail, he cry'd,thy country's grace and love; Once first of men below, now first of birds above. Either songster holding out their throats, DRYDEN. And folding up their wings, renew'd their notes, The painted birds, companions of the spring, As if all day, preluding to the sight, Hopping from spray to spray were heard. They only had rehearsed, to sing by night. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. I rave, He therefore makes all birds of every sect a n, And, like a giddy bird in dead of night, Free of his farm, with promise to respect Fheir hseveral f, with d p t prect. Fly round the fire that scorches me to death. Their several kinds alike, and equally protect. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. I waked, and, looking round the bow'r, His gracious edict the same franchise yields b Search'd ev'ry tree, and prey'd on ev'ry flow'r, To all the wild increase of woods and fields. I DRAYDEIN. If anywhere by chance I might espy The rural poet of the melody. The painted lizard and the birds of prey, DRYDEN. Foes of the frugal kind, be far away. A peal of loud applause rang out, DRYDEN. And thinn'd the air, till ev'n the birds fell down From each tree Upon the shouters' heads. The feather'd people look down to peep on me. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Earth smiles with flow'rs renewing, laughs the A bird new made, about the banks she plies, sky, Not far from shore, and short excursions tries. And birds to lays of love their tuneful notes DRYDEN. apply. DRYDEN. Her leafy arms with such extent were spread, That hosts of birds, that wing the liquid air, The crested bird shall by experience know Perch'd in the boughs, had nightly lodging there. Jove made not him his master-piece below. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The buzzard At first she flutters, but at length she springs Invites the feather'd Nimrods of his race To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings. To hide the thinness of their flock from sight DRYDEN. And all together make a seeming goodly flight. The broken air loud whistling as she flies, DRYDEN. She stops and listens, and shoots forth again, Within this homestead lived without a peer, And guides her pinions by her young ones' cries. DRYDEN. For crowing loud, the noble chanticleer. DRYDEN. New herds of beasts he sends the plains to share; New colonies of birds to people air; Sooner than the matin-bell was rung And to the oozy beds the finny fish repair. He clapp'c his wings upon his roost, and sung. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The gods their shapes to winter birds translate; To crows he like impartial grace affords, But both obnoxious to their former fate. And choughs, and daws, and such republic birds. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. BIRDS. 73 The dastard crow, that to the wood made wing, The musket and the coyshet were too weak, With her loud caws her craven kind does bring, Too fierce the falcon; but above the rest Who, safe in numbers, cuff the noble bird. The noble buzzard ever pleased me best. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The new dissembled eagle, now endued The mother nightingale laments alone; With beak and pounces, Hercules pursued. Whose nest some prying churl had found, and DRYDEN. thence, Then as an eagle who with pious care By stealth, convey'd th' unfeather'd innocence, Was beating widely on the wing for prey, DRYDEN. To her now silent eyrie does repair, To her now silent eyrie does repair, On his left hand twelve rev'rend owls did fly: And finds her callow infants forced away. DRYDEN. SO Romulus,'tis sung, by Tiber's brook, Presage of sway from twice six vultures took. Spread upon a lake, with upward eye, DRYDEN. A plump of fowl behold their foe on high, They close their trembling troop, and all attend And parrots, imitating human tongue, On whom the soaring eagle will descend. And singing birds, in silver cages hung; DRYDEN. And ev'ry fragrant flow'r, and od'rous green, Were sorted well, with lumps of amber laid A goldfinch there I saw, with gaudy pride Of painted plumes that hopp'd from side to side. betweenDRDE. DRYDEN. Some haggard hawk, who had her eyrie nigh, Who taught the parrot human notes to try, Well pounced to fasten, and well wing'd to fly. Or with a voice endued the chattering pie? DRYDEN.'Twas witty want. L)DRYDEN.DRYDEN. When watchful herons leave their watery stand, And, mounting upward with erected flight, So when the new-born'phoenix first is seen, Gain on the skies, and soar above the sight. Her feather'd subjects all adore their queen. GainDontheskiesRYDEN. DRvDEN. DRYDEN. And how in fields the lapwing Tereus reigns, All these received their birth from other things, The warbling nightingale in woods complains. But from himself the phoenix only springs; DRYDEN. Self-born, begotten by the parent flame The lark, the messenger of day, In which he burn'd, another and the same. Saluted in her song the morning gray. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Constrain'd him in a bird, and made himn fly, Mark how the lark and linnet sing; With party-colour'd plumes, a chattering pie. With rival notes DRYDEN. They strain their warbling throats Huge flocks of rising rooks forsake their food, To welcome in the spring. DRYDETo welcome in the spring. And crying seek the shelter of the wood. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. As in a drought the thirsty creatures cry, As in a drought the thirsty creatures cry, Stockdoves and turtles tell their am'rous pain, And gape upon the gather'd clouds for rain, from the lofty elms of love complain. Then first the martlet meets it in the sky, DRYDEN. And with wet wings joys all the feather'd train. DRYDEN. The swallow skims the river's wat'ry face, The frogs renew the croaks of their loquacious Nor need they fear the dampness of the sky race. Should flag their wings, and hinder them to fly; DRYDEN.'Twas only water thrown on sails too dry. Thus on some silver swan or tim'rous hare DRYDEN. Jove's bird comes sousing down from upper sir; Owls, that mark the ~setting sun, declare IHer crooked talons truss the fearful prey, A starlight evening and a morning fair. Then out of sight she soars. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 74 BIRDS. Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move, The noisy geese that gabbled in the pool. And stoop with closing pinions from above. GOLDSMITH. DRYDEN. Want sharpens poetry, and grief adorns: Like a long team of snowy swans on high, The spink chants sweetest in a hedge of thorns. Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid WALTER HARTE. sky, ~~~~~~sky, ~Brightly, sweet summer, brightly While homeward from their wat'ry pastures Thine hours have floated by, - borne, To the joyous birds of the woodland boughs, They sing, and Asia's lakes their notes return. To the rangers of the sky. DRYDEN. MRS. HEMANS. Your words are like the notes of dying swans; Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! Too sweet to last. DRYDEN. No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard The titmouse and the peckers' hungry brood, In ancient days by emperor and clown. And Progne with her bosom stain'd in blood. KEATS. DRYDEN. None but the lark so shrill and clear! A rav'nous vulture in his open'd side Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, Her crooked beak and cruel talons tried. DRYDEN. The morn not waking till she sings. JOHN LILY. Such dread his awful visage on them cast; There will we sit upon the rocks, So seem poor doves at coshawk's sight aghast. And see the shepherds feed their flocks FAIRFAX. By shallow rivers, to whose falls They long'd to see the day, to hear the lark Melodious birds sing madrigals. Record her hymns, and chant her carols blest. MARLOWE. FAIRFAX. If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet, Thus boys hatch game-eggs under birds of prey, Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive, To make the fowl more furious for the fray. The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds GARTH. Attest their joy, that hill and valley ring. The widow'd turtle hangs her moulting wings, MILTON. And to the woods in-mournful murmur sings. The birds, GARTH. After a night of storm so ruinous, Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray, Thy younglings, Cuddy, are but just awake, No thrustles shrill the bramble bush forsake, To gratulate the sweet return of morn. No chirping lark the welkin sheen invokes. MILTON. GAY. From branch to branch the smaller birds with See yon gay goldfinch hop from spray to spray, song Who sings a farewell to the parting day. Solaced the woods, and spread their painted GAY. wings Till ev'n. Such strains ne'er warble in the linnet's throat. MILTON. GAY. I saw a pleasant grove, The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, With chant of tuneful birds resounding love. Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. MILTON. GAY. Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, He told us that the welkin would be clear With charm of earliest birds. When swallows fleet soar high and sport in air. MVIILTON. GAY. Creatures that lived, and moved, and walked, Soon as in doubtful day the woodcock flies, or flew; Her cleanly pail the pretty housewife bears. Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled. GAY. MILTON. BIRDS. 75 These delicacies Nor then the solemn nightingale I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays. flow'rs, MILTON. Walks, and the melody of birds. MILTON. Sings darkling, and, in shadiest covert hid, Wings he wore of many a coloured plume. Tunes her nocturnal note. MILTON. MILTON. Cow'ring low Th' other, whose gay train With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his Adorns him, colour'd with tile florid hue wing. Of rainbows and starry eyes. MILTON. MILTON. The swan with arched neck, Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars. The swan with arched neck, MILTON. Between her White wings mantling proudly, rows Her state with oary feet. Join voices, all ye living souls! ye birds, MILTON. That singing up to heaven gate ascend, Those lazy owls, who, perch'd near fortune's tip, Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise.'~, Sit only watchful with their heavy wings raMILTON To cuff down new-fledged virtues, that would rise To nobler heights, and make the grove harmoWhile the cock with lively din nious. nious. Scatters the rear of darkness thin, OTWAY. And to the stack or the barn door Proudly struts his dames before. The fowler, warnd MILTON. By those good omens, with swift early steps Treads the crimp earth, ranging through fields The eagle and the stork and glades, On cliffs and cedar-tops their eyries build. Offensive to the birds. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour, From retentive cage Two birds of gayest plume before him drove. When sullen Philomel escapes, her notes MILTON. She varies, and of past imprisonment To hear the lark begin its flight, Sweetly complains. And singing, startle the dull night, PHILIPS. From his watchtower in the skies, Philomela's liberty retrieved, Till the dapple dawn doth rise; Cheers her sad soul. Then to come, in spite of sorrow, JOHN PHILIPS. And at my window bid "Good morrow." Adto MILTON. Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous music wake the dawning day! Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Why sit we mute when early linnets sing, Most musical, most melancholy! When warbling Philomel salutes the spring? Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, Why sit we sad when Phosphor shines so clear, I woo, to hear thy even-song. And lavish Nature paints the purple year? MILTON. POPE. O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Fear the just gods, and think of Sylla's fate! Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Changed to a bird, and sent to flit in air. Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill POPE. While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. MILTON. Ah! what avail his glossy varying dyes; The vivid green his shining plumes unfold; The love-lorn nightingale His painted wings, and breast that flames with Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well. gold? MILTON. POPE. 76 BIRDS. Unnumber'l birds glide through th' aerial way, No more the mounting larks, while Daphne Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray. sings, POPE. Shall, lifting in mid air, suspend their wings. POPE. With hairy springes we the birds betray; Slight lines of hair surprise the finnly prey. Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat? POPE. Loves of his own and raptures swell the note. POPE. With slaught'ring guns th' unwearied fowler roves, See! from the brake the whirring pheasant When frosts have whiten'd all the naked groves. springs, POPE. And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: Short is his joy, he feels the fiery wound, Oh, were I made, by some transforming pow'r, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r,POPE. Then might my voice thy list'ning ears employ, And I those kisses he receives enjoy. Night shades the groves, and all in silence lie; POPE. All but the mournful Philomel and I. POPE. The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow, Scream aloft. How all things listen while thy muse complains! POPE. Such silence waits on Philomela's strains In some still ev'ning, when the whisp'ring breeze Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees. When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky; Pants on the leaves, an POPE. Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When through the skies he drives the trembling The robin-redbreast till of late had rest, doves. And children sacred held a martin's nest. POPE. POPE. Where doves in flocks the leafless trees o'erNot less their number than the milk-white shade, And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'ry glade. That o'er the winding of Caster's springs That o'er the winding of Cyaster's springs POPE. Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling Draw forth the monsters of th' abyss profound, wings. Or fetch th' aerial eagle to the ground. POPE. Upward the noble bird directs his wing, Abrupt, with eagle-speed she cut the sky, And, tow'ring round his master's earth-born foes, Instant invisible to mortal eye: Swift he collects his fatal stock of ire, Then first he recognized th' ethereal guest. Lifts his fierce talon high, and darts the forked POPE. fire. PRIOR. Will the falcon, stooping from above, t,, o, ~ How in small flights they know to try their Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings? young, And teach the callow child her parent's song. Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings? POPE. The dullest brain, if gently stirr'd, Poor, little, pretty, flutt'ring thing, Perhaps may waken to a humming-bird; Must we no longer live together? The most recluse, discreetly open'd, find And dost thou prune thy trembling wing Congenial object in the cockle kind. To take thy flight thou know'st not whither? POPE. PRIOR. Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The cheerful birds no longer sing; The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death. Each drops his head, and hangs his wing. POPE. PRIOR. BIRDS. 77 A falc'ner Henry is, when Emma hawks: The early village cock With her of tarsels and of lures he talks. Hath twice done salutation to the morn. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. The birds, great Nature's happy commoners, Light thickens, and the crow That haunt in woods, in meads, and flowery Makes wing to the rocky wood. garc ens, SHAKSPEARE. Rifle the sweets, and taste the choicest fruits. ROWE. The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Ask thou the citizens of pathless woods; Show scarce so gross as beetles. What cut the air with wings, what swim in SHAKSPEARE. floods? SANDYS. To be furious Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood The peacock not at thy command assumes The dove will peck the estridge. His glorious train, nor ostrich her rare plumes. SHATwSPEAtE. SANDYS.KSPEARE So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, The bilrds chant melody on every bush, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind. y SHAKSPEARE. Our cage I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd We make a choir, as doth the prison bird, From the spungy south to this part of the west, And sing our bondage freely. There vanish'd in the sunbeams. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Myself have limed a bush for her, His royal hird And placed a quire of such enticinl birds, Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, That she will'light to listen to their lays. As when his god is pleased. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I would have thee gone, The gallant monarch is in arms; And yet no farther than a wanton's hird, And like an eagle o'er his eyrie tow'rs, That lets it hop a little from her hand, To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. And with a silk thread plucks it back again. SHAKSPEARE. SHAIKSPEARE. She that her eyrie buildeth in the cedar-top, Ere the bat hath flown And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. His cloister'd flight. SHA(SPEARE SHAR(SPEARE.SHAKSPEARE. Often to our comfort shall we find ll. plumed like estridges, that with the wind The shardedl bheetle in a safer hold IBaited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats like images. Than is the full-wing'd eagle. b SHAKSPEARE. SHAISPEARE. Russet-pated choughs, many in sort, A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, Rising and cawing at the gun's report. Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. SHAKSPEARE. SHAIKSPEARE. The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, What a point your falcon made! Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat And what a pitch she flew ahove the rest! Awake the god of day. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The morning cock crew loud, My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And till she stoop, she must not be full-gorged And vanish'd from our sight. For then she never looks upon her lure. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 78 BIRDS. Another way I have to man my haggard, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, To make her come, and know her keeper's call; When every goose is cackling, would be thought That is, to watch her as we watch those kites No better a musician than the wren. That bait and beat, and will not be obedient. How many things by season season'd are SHAKSPEARE. To their right praise and true perfection! SHAKSPEARE. Between two hawks which flies the higher pitch, I have, perhaps, some shallow judgment. Except I be by Sylvia in the night, SHAIKSPEARE. There is no music in the nightingale. What! is the jay more precious than the lark, SHAKSPEARE. Because his feathers are more beautiful? Some say that ever'gainst that season comes SHAKSPEARE. SHASPEARE Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, The bird of dawning singeth all night long. From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, SHAKSPEARE. And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The un aiset inhismajesty. The ousel cock so black of hue, The sun ariseth in his majesty. SHAWSPEARE. ith orange tawny bill. SHAKSPEARE. Nor that is not the larlk, whose notes do beat thaty i thea, whi oe nou bead It was the owl that shriek'd; the fatal bellman The vaulty heav'n so high above our heads. SHJAKSPEARE. Thich gives the stern'st good-night. SHIAAKSPEARE. It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh iscors and npleasing sharps. The obscure bird clamour'd the livelong night. Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. SHAKSPEARE. SHA KSPEARE. It was the lark, the herald of the morn. The owl shriek'd at thy birth; an evil sign; SHArSPEARE. The night-crow cry'd; a boding luckless time. SHAKSPEARE. Look up a height, the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard. Cannot be seen or heard. The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and SHAKSPEARE. wonders At our quaint spirits. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, SHAKSPEARE. And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks. AderlSHAseSPEARE. Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, But may imagine how the bird was dead, Augurs, that understood relations, have Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? By magpies, and by choughs, and rooks, brought SHAKSPEARE. forth Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while, The secret'st man of blood. And, like a peacock, sweep along his tail. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEA RE. This guest of summer, Did ever raven sing so like a lark, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? By his loved mansionry, that heaven's breath SHAKSPEARE. Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze, The r~aven himself is hoarse Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird HI-ath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: That croas the fatal entrance of Duncan Where they most breed and haunt, I have ob-Under my battlements. SHAKSPEARE. served The air is delicate. The raven croak'd hoarse on the chimney's top, SHAKSPEARE. And chattering pies in dismal discord sung. SHAKSPEARE. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. That it had its head bit off by its young. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. BIRDS. 79 The swan's down feather, The merry birds of ev'ry sort That stands upon the swell at full of tide, Chaunted about their cheerful harmony, And neither way inclines. And made amongst themselves a sweet consort, SHAKSPEARE. That quick'ned the dull sp'rit with musical The throstle with his note so true, comfort. SPENSER. The wren with little quill. SHAKSPEARE. No bird but did her shrill notes sweetly sing; We'll teach him to know turtles from jays. No song but did contain a lovely dit. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. As a woodcock to my own springe, Osrick, The trees did bud, and early blossom bore, I'm justly kill'd with mine own treachery. And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing, SHAKSPEARE. And told that garden's pleasures in their carolling. The poor wren, SPENSER. The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Leaves of flowers Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. SHAKB5PEARE. That freshly budded, and new blossoms did bear, In which a thousand birds had built their bowers. The world is grown so bad SPENSER. That wrens make prey where eagles dare not The birds perch. SHARSPEARE. Frame to thy song their cheerful cheruping, Or hold their peace for shame of thy sweet lays. As the day begins, SPENSER. With twenty gins we will the small birds take, AF~nd pastime mak~e. ~The cheerful birds of sundry kind And pastime make. SIR P. SIDNEY. Do chant sweet music to delight his mind. SPENSER. Thus children do the silly birds they find With stroking hurt, and too much cramming kill. He percheth on some branch thereby, SIR P. SIDNEY. To weather him, and his moist wings to dry. SPENSER. As Venus' bird, the white, swift, lovely dove, O! happy dove that art compared to her, She, more sweet than any bird on bough, Doth on her wings her utmost swiftness prove, Would oftentimes among them bear a part, Finding the gripe of falcon fierce not far. And strive to pass, as she could well enow, SIR P. SIDNEY. Their native music by her skilful art. SPENSER. The phoenix' wings are not so rare For faultless length and stainless hue. Hark! how the cheerful birds do chant their SIR P. SIDNEY. lays, A maid thitherward did run And carol of Love's praise. To catch her sparrow, which from her did The merry lark her matins sings aloft; swerve. The thrush replies; the mavis descant plays; SIR P. SIDNEY. The ousel shrills; the redbreast warbles soft: The heron, So goodly all agree, with sweet consent, Upon the bank of some small, purling brook, To this day's merriment. Observant stands, to take his scaly prey. SOMERVILE. The merry cuckoo, messenger of spring, His trumpet shrill bath thrice already sounded The melancholy Philomel, SPENSER. Thus perch'd all night alone in shady groves, Tunes her soft voice to sad complaint of love, Like as the culver on the bared lough Making her life one great harmonious woe. Sits mourning for the absence of her mate. SOUTHERN. SPENSER. 80 BIRDS. As an eagle seeing prey appear I do but sing because I must, His airy plumes doth rouse full rudely dight, And pipe but as the linnets sing. So shaked. he, that horror was to hear. TENNYSON. SPENSER. Every copse The kingly bird that bears Jove's thunderclap Deep tangled, tree irregular, and bush One day did scorn the simple scarabee, Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads Proud of his highest service, and good hap, Of the coy quiristers that lodge within That made all other fowls his thralls to be. Are prodigal of harmony. SPENSER. THOMSON. Lifted aloft, he'gan to mount up higher, The cleft tree And, like fresh eagle, made his hardy flight Offers its kind concealment to a few; Thio' all that great wide waste, yet wanting light. Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. THOMSON. An haggard hawk, presuming to cl,,ntend An hagardy haw, poesuin tl cnten Through the soft silence of the listening night With hardy fowl above his able might, The sober-suited songstress trills her lay. His weary pounces all in vain doth spend, THoMsoN. To truss the prey too heavy for his flight. SPENSER. Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vig'rous wings, The nightingale is sovereign of song, And many a circle, many a short essay Before him sits the titmouse silent by, Wheeld round and round. And I, unfit to thrust in skilful throng, THOMSON. Should Colin make judge of my foolerie. SPENSER. Innumerous songsters in the fresh'ning shade Of new spring leaves their modulations mix. The ill-faced, owl, death's dreadful messenger, THOMSON. The hoarse night-raven, trump of doleful drere, The leather-winged bat, day's enemy, The jay, the rook, the daw The rueful strick, still waiting on the bier. Aid the full concert. SPENSER. Up springs the lark, shrill-voiced and loud. Where dwelt the ghostly owl,THMSON. Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave Far from their haunt all other cheerful fowl. A fresher gale SPENSER. Sweeping with shadowy gust the field of corn, OWhile the quail clamours for his running mate. Often have I scaled the craggy oak, All to dislodge the raven of her nest. SPENSER. The redbreast, sacred to the household gods, Pays to trusted man his annual visit. Nor the night raven, that stilldleadly yells, Pays to trusted man his annual visit. Nor griesly vultures, make us once affear'd. SPENSER. The rook, who high amid the boughs In early spring his airy city builds, The swallow peeps out of her nest, And cloudy welkin cleareth. And ceaseless caws. THOMSON. SPENSER. The swallow sweeps Up a grove did spring, green as in May The slimy pool to build his hanging house. When April had been moist; upon whose bushes THOMSON. The pretty robins, nightingales, and thrushes Warbled their notes. The stately-sailing swan SIR J. SUCKLING. Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale; The boding owl And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet Steals from her private cell by night, Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle, And flies about the candlelight. Protective of his young. SWIFT. THOMSON. BL AND ISHMENTVS. -BL ESSZNGS. -BL VD NESS. 8 Congregated thrushes, linnets, sit Must'ring all her wiles, On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock. With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults, THOMSON. Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night Hark! on every bough night To storm me, over-watch'd and weary'd out. In lulling strains the feather'd warblers woo. ~~TI~~cKIELL. ~MILTON. TICKELL. The little babe up in his arms he bent, In these soft shades, unpress'd by human feet, h tha t Phe, kepshi hby sneat Who, with sweet pleasure and bold blandishThy happy Phoenix keeps his balmy seat. Tment, TICKELL.'Gan smile. Those which only warble long, SPENSER. And gargle in their throats a song. WALLER. BWALLERLESSINGS. The birds know how to chuse their fare; In vain with folding arms the youth assay'd To peck this fruit they all forbear: To stop her flight, and strain the flying shade; Those cheerful singers know not why But she return'd no more to bless his longing They should make any haste to die. eyes. WALLER. DRYDEN. The eagle's fate and mine are one, There's not a blessing individuals find Which on the shaft that made him die But some way leans and hearkens to the kind. Espied a feather of his own, POPE. Wherewith he wont to soar on high. Wherewith he wont to soar on hig. Bring then these blessings to a strict account, Make fair deductions, see to what they mount. The lark still shuns on lofty boughs to build; POPE. Her humble nest lies silent in the field. The blest to-day is as completely so As who began a thousand years ago. Thus the wise nightingale that leaves her home, POPE. Pursuing constantly the cheerful spring, From the blessings they bestow To foreign groves does her old music bring. Our times are dated, and our eras move: WALLER. They govern and enlighten all below, As thou dost all above. And hark how blithe the throstle sings! PRIOR. He, too, is no mean preacher. For so it falls out, WORDSWORTH: Table Tutn-ed. That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Now all nature seem'd in love, Why, then we rack the value; then we find And birds had drawn their valentines. The virtue, that possession would not show us WOTTON. Whiles it was ours. SHAKSPEARE. You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays. IIow blessings brighten as they take their flight! WOTTON. YOUNG. BLANDISHMENTS. BLINDNESS. Him Dido now with blandishment detains; He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind, But I suspect the town where Juno reigns. And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Each bird and beast behold This three years day, these eyes, though clear Approaching two and two; these cow'ring low To outward view of blemish or of spot, With blandishment. Bereft of sight, their seeing have forgot. MILTON. MILTON. 6 82 BIN~VDNXESS. -BLISS. These eyes that roll in vain But wit's ambition longeth to the best, To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn. For it desires in endless bliss to dwell. MILTON. SIR J. DAVIES. Thus with the year Poor human kind, all dazed in open day, Seasons return, but not to me returns Err after bliss, and blindly miss their wray. Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, DRYDEN. Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine. Two magnets, heav'n and earth, allure to bliss, MILTON. The larger loadstone that, the nearer this. MILTON. DRYDEN. Though sight be lost, Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd, Kindness for man, and pity for his fate, VThere other senses want not their delights, May mix with bliss, and yet not violate. At home, in leisure and domestic ease,. DRYDEN. Exempt from many a care and chance, to which May Heav'n, great monarch, still augment your Eyesight exposes daily men abroad. bliss MILTON~. TVWith length of days, and every day like this. Sight bereaved DRYDEN. May chance to number thee with those Wi~ihom patience finally must crown. Vain, very vain, my weary search to find MILTON. That bliss which only centres in the imind. GOLDSMITII. lHe that is stricken blind cannot forget Bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss; The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Bliss, as thou hast part, to e is bliss; SHAKSPEARE. Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. MILTON. Condition, circumstance, is not the thing: Bliss is the same in subject or in king; To bliss unknown my lofty soul aspires; In who obtain defence, or who defend, My lot unequal to my vast desires. In him who is, or him who finds, a friend. ARBUTHNOT. POPE. Though duller thoughts succeed, Some place the bliss in action, some in ease; The bliss e'en of a moment still is bliss. Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. Thou would'st not of her dew-drops spoil the POPE. thorn See! the sole bliss heav'n could on all bestow, Because her glory will not last till noon. VWhich who blut feels can taste, but thinks can JOANNA BAILLIE: Beacon. know. Blessed, thrice blessed days! but ah! how short! POPE. Bless'd as the pleasing charms of holy men, I see thee, lord and end of my desire, 3But fugitive like those, and quickly gone. Loaded and lblest with all the affluent store ROBERT BLAIR: The G;rave. Which human vows and smoking shrines implore. Alas! the breast that inly bleeds PRIOR. Hath nought to dread from outward blow: Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Then pour out plaint, and in one word say this: WAho falls fr-ollm all he knowTJs of bliss, H-lelpless his plaint who spoils himself of bliss. Cares little into what abyss. SIR P. SIDNEY. BYRON: Gi'aoztr. Yet, swimming in that sea of blissful joy, She contains all bliss,I-Ie nought forgot. And makes the world but her periphrasis. SPENSER. JOHIN CLEAVELAND. This day's ensample hath this lesson dear The quickl'ning power would be, and so would Deep written in my heart with iron pen, rest; That bliss may not rabide in state of'mortal mel. The sense would not be only, but be well: SPENSER. BL USH-ES.-B OASTI. G. -B 0 OKOS. 83 Oft when blind mortals think themselves secure, BOASTING. In height of bliss, they touch the brink of ruin. That brawny fool who did his vigour boast, THOMSON. In that presuming confidence was lost. While the fond soul, DRYDEN. Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, No more delays, vain boaster! but begin; Still paints th' illusive form. THOMSON. I prophesy beforehand I shall win: I'll teach you how to brag another time. The spider's most attenuated thread DRYDEN. Is cord-is cable-to nman's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze. He the proud boasters sent, with stern assault, YOUNG. Down to the realms of night. JOHN PHILIPS. BLUSHES. Boastful and rough, your first son is a'squire, The next a tradesman, meek, and much a liar. The eloquent blood POPE. Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought You might have almost said her body thought. If it be so, yet bragless let it be: DONNE. Great Hector was as good a man as he. SHAKSPEARE. Will you not speak to save a lady's blush? DRYDEN.Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass, 0 call not to this aged cheek That every braggart shall be found an ass. The little blood which should keep warm my SHAKSPEARE. heart. DRYDEN. Playful blushes that seem'd nought BOOKS. But luminous escapes of thought. Its no' in books, its no' in lear, MOORE. To make us truly blest, Let me forever gaze. If happiness has not her seat And bless the new-born glories that adorn thee; And centre in the breast. From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks BURS: E BUnRNS: ~iislle to.Dawie. Ten thousand little loves and graces spring. ROWE. Old wood to burn! old wine to drink! I will go wash: Old fi-iends to trust! old books to read! And when my face is fair, you shall perceive ALONZO OF ARAGON. Whether I blush or no.'Tis in books the chief SHAKSPEARE. Of all perfections to be plain and brief. I have mark'd BUTLER. A thousand blushing apparitions They cannot read, and so don't lisp in criticism; To start into her face; a thousand innocent To start into her face; a thousand innocent Nor write, and so they don't affect the muse; shames, Were never caught in epigram or witticism; In angel whiteness, bear away those blushes., s Have no romances, sermons, plays, reviews. SHAKSPEARE. BYRON. To-day he puts forth'Twere well with most, if books, that could The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow blossoms, enoage And bears his blushing honours thick upon him. engage SHARKSPEARE. Their childhood, pleased them at a riper age, The man, approving what had charm'd the boy, Her lips blush deeper sweets. THOMSON. lW;Tould die at last in comfort, peace, and joy; And not with curses on his art who stole Along those blushing borders, bright with dew. The gem of truth from his unguarded soul. THOMSON. COWVPER. The man that blushes is not quite a brute. Books are not seldom talismans and spells. YOUNG. COWPER. 84 BOOKS. Books cannot always please, however good; That we to them our solitude may give, Minds are not ever craving for their food. And make time present travel that of' old. CRABBE. Our life, fame pieceth longer at the end, And books it farther backward doth extend. Books should to one of these four ends conduce: SI THOMAS OVERBURY. For wisdom, piety, delight, or use. SIR J. DENHAM. Studious he sate, with all his books around, Sinking from thought to thought, a vast proFixt and contemplative their looks, Still turning over nature's books. SIR J. DENHAM. Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there; Then wrote, and flounder'd on in mere despair. Yet vainly most their age in study spend: POPE. No end of writing books, and to no end. Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll SIR J. DENHAM. In pleasing memory of all he stole. Let moths through pages eat their way, POPE. Your wars, your loves, your praises be forgot, The fate of all extremes is such, And make of all an universal blot. Men may be read, as well as books, too much. DRYDEN. POPE. Wi~hate'er these booklearn'd blockheads say, Yes, you despise the man to books confined, Solon's the veriest fool in all the play. Who from his study rails at human kind; DRYDEN. Though what he learns he speaks. POPE. How pure the joy when first my hands unfold The small, rare volume, black with tarnish'd Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfined; gold. A knowledge both of books and human kind. FERRIAR: Bibliomania. POPE. The princeps copy, clad in blue and gold. Still with esteem no less conversed than read; FERRIAR: Bibi'omiania. With wit well-natured, and with books well-bred. POPE. Now cheaply bought for thrice their weight in To all their dated backs he turns you round: FERRIAR: Bibliomalzia. These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound. POPE. That place that does Contain my books, the best companions, is Quartos, octaves, shape the lessening pyre, And last a little Ajax tips the spire. To me a glorious court, where hourly I And last a little Ajax tips the spire. Converse with the old sages and philosophers. FLETCHER. There Caxton slept, with Wynken at his side; One clasp'd in wood, and one in strong cowhid e. Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil POPE. O'er books consumed the midnight oil? To love an altar built GAY. Of twelve vast French romances neatly gilt. Volumes on shelter'd stalls expanded lie, POPE. And various science lures the learned eye. The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read, GAY. With loads of learned lumber in his head, With his own tongue still edifies his ears, Uncertain and unsettled he remains, And always list'ning to himself appears. Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself. ig to himself appears. MILTON. I, fond of my well-chosen seat, My only books My pictures, medals, books complete. Were woman's looks, _PRIOR. And folly's all they taught me. And olly's all they taght me. MOORE. My favourite books and pictures sell; Kindly throw in a little figure, Books are part of man's prerogative; And set the price upon the bigger. In formal ink they thought and vo.ices hold, PRIOR. BO 0KS. 85 Those who could never read the grammar, The printed part, though far too large, is less When my dear volumes touch the hammer, Than that which, yet unprinted, waits the press. May think books best, as richly bound. SPANISH COUPLET. PRIOR. Then as they'gan his library to view, 0 Rosalind, these trees shall be my books, And antique registers for to avise, And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; There chanced to the prince's hand to rise That every eye which in this forest looks An ancient book, hight Britain's Monuments, Shall see thy virtue witness'd everywhere. SPJENSER, Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree The fair, the chaste, the unexpressive she. After so long a race as I have ron SHAKICSPEARE. Through fairy land, which those six books compile, A book! oh, rare one! Give lea Give leave to rest me. Be not, as in this fangled world, a garment SPENSER. Nobler than it covers. SHAKSPEARE. How enviously the ladies look When they surprise me at my book, Me, poor manll, lly libraruy And sure as they're alive at night, Was dukedom large enough. Xs SHlAKtSPEARE.~ As soon as gone will show their spite. SWIFT. We turn'd o'er many books together. e tur o'er any ooks together. Harley, the nation's great support, SHAKSPE ARE. Returning home one day from court, This man's brow, like to a title leaf, Observed a parson near Whitehall Foretells the nature of a tragic volume. Cheap'ning old authors on a stall. SHAKrSPEARE. SNTIIT. To statesmen would you give a wipe, Was ever book, containing such vile matter,ould you give a wipe, So fairly bounci? ~c'You print it in Italic type: SI-IAI(SPErARE. uWhen letters are in vulgar shapes,'Tis tell to one the wit escapes; This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in en in capitals exprest, But when in capitals exprest, court,. The dullest reader smokes the jest. A phantasm, a monarch, one that makes sport SwIvT. To the prince and his bookmates. SHAKeSPEARE. If one short volume could comprise All that was witty, learll'd, and wvise, This civil war of wits were much better used I-ow would it be esteem'c and read! On Navilrre and his bookmen; for here'tis SWIFT. abused. ed. S SPEARE. You modern wits should each man bring his SHAKSPEARE. I'll make him yield the crown, Have desperate debentures on your fame; Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England And little would be left you, I'm afraid, down. If all your debts to Greece and Rome were paid. SHAKSPEARE. SwrIFT So have I seen trim books in velvet dight, Books are yours, With golden leaves and painted babery WAithin whose silent chambers treasur-e lies Of seely boys, please unacquainted sight. Preserved from age to age; more precious far SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems which, for a day of need, MIy days among the dead are pass'dc; The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. Around me I behold, Whereer these casual eyes are cast, These hoards of truth you call unlock at will. Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; WORDSvORTI. My never-failing friends are they, Dreams, books, are each a world; and boolks, With whom I converse night and day. we know, SOUTHEY'. Are a substantial world, both pure and good: 86 B OR ES. — RB UNTY.- BRA VER Y. Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and If you knew to whom you show this honour, blood, I know you would be prouder of the work Our pastime and our happiness will grow. Than customary bounty can enforce you. WNORDSWVORTH: Per'soznl To;zlk. SIIA1ssSPEAREI. Others with wistful eyes on glory look That churchman bears mind, in-'When they have got their picture towards a book; deed; Or pompous title, like a gaudy sign lA hand as fruitful'as the lan l t feeds us; Meant to betray dull sots to wretched wine. I-Iis dew falls ev'rywhere. YOUNG. SHAKISPEARE. Some future strain, in which the muse shall tell A losel Jwandering by the way, IHow science dwindles, and how volumes swell. One that to bounty never cast his mind; YOUNG. Ne thought of heaven ever did assay I-Iis baser breast. Letters admlit not of a half renown; SPENSER. They give you nothing, or they give a crown: No Awork e'er gain'd true fame, or ever can, But what did hollnour to the name of man. BRAVERY. Y'OU-N-G. The truly brave are soft of hearts and eyes, And feel for nwhat their duty bidcls them do. BORES. BYIRO. \What though no bees around your cradle flew,:But Awlosoe'er it was, nature design'd Nor on their lips distill'd their golden dew, First a brave place, and then as brave a mind. Yet have we oft discover'cd, in their stead, SIR J. DENsI-AMI. A swarm of drones that buzz'd about your head. POI'P E. No fire, nor foe, nor fate, nor night, The Trojan hero did affright, Who bravely twice renew'd the fight. BOUNTY. SIr J. DENHAMI. For thy vast bounties are so numberlless, No, there is a necessity in fate That them or to conceal, or else to tell, Why still the brave bold man is fortunate; Is equally impossible. HI-e keeps his object ever full in sight, COWN>LEY. l-lAnd that assurance holds hilll firmnn and right: Such moderation with thy bounty join True,'tis a narrow path that leads to bliss, That thou may'st nothing give that is not thine; But right before there is no precipice;' That liberality is but cast away Fear makes men loolk aside, and so their footing \Which makes us borrow what we cannot pay. miss. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Those godlike men, to wanting virtue kind, The brave man seeks not popular applause, Bounty well placed, preferr'd, and well design'd, Nor, overpowerc'd ~with arms, deserts his cause: To all their titles. Unshamled, though foil'd, he does the best he DRYDEN. can; Force is of brutes, but honour is of manu. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;tes but honour s of an. }Heaven did a recompense as largely send; HII gave to misery all he had-a tear; He gain ci from heaven-twas all he wish'cl- Impute your danger to our ignorance' I-le gain'd from heaven-'twas all he wish'd — The bravest men are subject most to chance. a friend! GRAY. Which of you, shall wve say, doth love us most? Hot braves, lile thee, may fight, but lcnorw not That we our largest bounty may extend well Where natulre cloth with merit challencge. To manage this, the last great stalke. SHAKSPEARE. D)RYDEN. BRA VER Y.- BRJDE. y A braver choice of dauntless spirits The clay approach'd when fortune should decide Did never float upon the swelling tide. Th' important enterprise, and give the bride. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. I do not think a 1a untleman, Heaven's unchanged decrees attentive hear: More darin ld, is now alive, More pow'rful gods have torn thee from my side, To grace t hU age with noble deeds.l Unwilling to resign, and doom'd a bride. SHAKSPEARE.DRYDEN. The lovely Thais by his side Fight valiantly to-day; Sat, like a blooming Eastern bride, And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it; In flow'r of youth, and beauty's pride. For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour-. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. By this the brides are waked, their grooms are I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, dress'd; Anl-d \wear my~ draggterT w'ith ia braver grace. All Rhodes is summon'd to the nuptial feast. DRYDE N. SHAKISPEARE. Love yields at last, thus combated by pride, And she submits to be the Roman's bride. Let not the generous die.'Tis late before GRANVILLE. The brave despair. THOMSON. She smiled, array'd With all the charms of sunshine, stream, and From armed foes to bring a royal prize, Shows your brave heart victorious as your eyes., New drest and blooming as a bridal maid. WALLER. WALTER I-IARTE. She turn'd-and her mother's gaze brought bacl; BRIDE. Each hue of her childhood's faded track: Oh, hush the song, and let her tears As when a piece of wanton lawn, As hen ae i, Flow to the dream of her early years! A thin aerial veil is drawn a Holy and pure are the drops that fall O'er beauty's face, seeming to hide, When the young bride goes from her father's More sweetly shows the blushing bride:I A soul whose intellectual beams, She goes unto love yet untried and new: No mists do mask, no lazy streams. She parts from love which hath still been true. CRASHAW. MRS. HEIMANSi Up, up, fair bride! and call Thy stars fiom out their several boxes; take Sweet cay, so cool, so calm, so bright, Thy rubies, pearls, and diamonds forth, and The bridal of the earth and sky, malce Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night: For thou must die! Thyself a constellation of them all. FoORGE homERdT. GEORGE HERBERT. JOHN DONNE. The amorous bird of night The bride, Sung spousal, and bid haste the ev'ning star Lovely herself, and lovely by her side. Lobevy hebrself, andylove byth sider On his hill-top to light the bridal lamp. A bevy of bright nymphs, with sober grace, MILTON. Came glitt'ring like a star, and took her place: Her heav'lly form beheld, all wish'd her joy; Your ill-meaning politician lords, And little wanted, but in vain, their wishes all Under pretence of bridal friends and guests, employ. Appointed to await me thirty spies. DRYDEN. MILTON. 0 happy youth! Yet here and there we grant a gentle bride, For whom thy fates reserve so fair a bride: Whose temper betters by the father's side; He sigh'd, and had no leisure more to say; Unlilke the rest that double human care, His honour call'd his eyes another way. Fond to relieve, or resolute to share. DRYDEN. PARNELL. 88 BR ~IDE.- CA L UINY - CA D O UR. - CARE. For her the spouse prepares the bridal ring, Our wedding cheer to a sad fun'ral feast, For her white virgins hymeneals sing. Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, POPE. Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse. Sleep'st thou careless of the nuptial day? SHAPrARE. Thy spousal ornament neglected lies; Now hats fly off, and youths carouse, Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise! Healths first go round, and thein the house, POPE. The brides come thick and thick. Elusive of the bridal day, she gives SIR J. SUCKLING. Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives. Next morn, betimes, the bride was missing: POPE. The mother scream'd, the father chid,They, vain expectants of the bridal hour, Where can this idle wench be hid! My stores in riotous expense devour. SWIFT. POPE. No news of Phyl? the bridegroom came; Nay, we must think men are not gods; And thought his bride had skulk'd for shame; Nor of them look for such observance always Because her father used to say As fits the bridal. The girl had such a bashful way. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFTr. CALUMNY. CARE. With calumnious art I have observed of late thy looks are fallen,: Of counterfeited truth, thus held their ears. O'ercast with gloomly cares and discontent. MILTON. ADDISON. Virtue itself'scapes not calumnious strokes. The people, free from cares, serene and gay, SI-IAKSPEARE. Pass all their mild untroubled hours away. ADDISON. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, Thou shalt not escape calumny. Vain man, forbear; of cares unload thy mind; SHAKSPEARE. Forget thy hopes, and give thy fears to wind. CREECIH. Let early care thy main concerns secure: Things of less moment may delays endure. Up into the watch-tower get, SIR J. DENIIAMI. AInd see all things clespoil'd of fallacies: No sullen discontent, nor anxious care, T hon shalt not peep throutghs lattices of eyes E'en though brought thither, could inhabit there. Nor hear through labyrinths of ears, nor learn DRY)EN. By circuit or collections to discern. DONNE. Or, if I would take care, that care should be For wit that scorn'd the world, and lived like rme. As thought was visible that roll'l within, DRYDEN. As through a crystal case the figured hours are seen. Well, on my terms thou wilt not be my heir; DRYDEN, If thou car'st little, less shall be my care. DRYDEN. Some positive persisting fops we know, That if once wrong, will needs be always so: Flush'd were his cheeks, and glowing were his But you with pleasure own your errors past, eyes. And make each day a critic on the last. Is she thy care? is she thy care? he cries. POPE. DRYDEN. CARE.- CAR OL. CAR 0 USING. 89 Restless anxiety, forlorn despair, Life's cares are comforts; such by heav'n deAnd all the faded family of care. sign'd; GARTH. He that has none, must make them, or be Care that is enter'd once into the breast wretched. Cares are employments; and without employ Will have the whole possession ere it rest. Cares are employments; and without employ The soul is on the rack; the rack of rest, To souls most adverse: action all their joy. What bliss, what wealth, did e'er the world bestow YOUNG. On man, but cares and fears attended it? THOMAS MAY. Mild heav'n CAROL. Disapproves that care, though wise in show, That with superfluous burden loads the day. For which the shepherds at their festivals MILTON. Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. MILTON. God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, And not molest us; unless we ourselves They gladly thither haste; and by a choir Seek them with wandering thoughts and notions Of squadron'd angels hear his carol sung. vain. r, t T/ozghts. MILTON. -DE CELT.-DEiEEDS. —DELA Y I39 Oh, colder than the wind that freezes And deeds could only deeds unjust maintain. Founts that but now in sunshine play'd, DRYDEN. Is that congealing pang which seizes t, 6 Z71. I, on the other side, The trusting bosom when betray'd. MhettOORgE: Lae l Rooke. Used no ambition to commend my deeds; MOORE: La/la Rookh. The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud Adieu the heart-expanding bowl, the doer. And all the kind deceivers of the soul. MILTON. POPE. O what a tangled web we weave Instant, he cried, your female discord end, O what a tangled web we weave Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend. When first we pl-actise to deceive!POP. SIR W. SCOTT: MZarimzion. Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and SHAKSPEARE. speak; Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, From lowest place when virtuous things proSmother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, ceed, The folded meaning of your words' deceit. The place is dignified by th' doer's deed. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Yet there is a credence in my heart, That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears; DELAY. As if those organs had deceptious functions, Created only to calumniate. Defer not till to-morrow to be wise: SHAKSPEARE. To-morrow's sun to thee may never lise. CONGREVE: Letter to Cobanzt. She that, so young, could give out such a seeming, Think not to-morrow still shall be your care; To seal her father's eyes up close as oak. Alas! to-morrow like to-day will fare. SHAKSPEARE. Reflect that yesterday's to-morrow's o'er,Thus one "to-mol —rrow, " one "to-morrow" more, His givings out were of an infinite distance Have seen long years before them fade away, From his true meant design. SHARKSPEARE. And still appear no nearer than to-day. O, that deceit should dwellGIFFORD: Pe-seus. In such a gorgeous palace! I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more; Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary. Men were deceivers ever: SHAKSPEARE. One foot in sea, alnd one on shore; Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits; To one thing constant never. To one thing constant neer.The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it. What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, S PEARE. As to descry the crafty cunning train Be wise with speed; By which deceit doth mask in visor fair A fool at forty is a fool indeed. And cast her colours dyed deep in grain, YOUNG: Love of Fame. To seem like truth, whose shape she well can feign? Be wise to-day;'tis madness to defer. SPENSER. YOUNG: Ngo/tht ThoZlghltS. Procrastination is the thief of time. YOUNG: Ni,,ltt ThozeghZts. Time flies, death urges, knells call, heaven Thousands were there, in darker fame that dwell, invites, Whose deeds some nobler poem shall adorn. Hell threatens. DRYDEN. YOUNG: NVu~~~, ~~~~If to some useful art he be not blred, Nor glist'ring, may of solid good contain I ore plenty than the sun, that baen shines e grows mere lumber, and is worse than dead. More plenty than the sun, that barren shines. DRYDEN. MILTON. The hemisphere of earth, in clearest ken To breed up the son to common sense, The hemsperofeathiclark, Is evermore the parent's least expense. Stretch'd out to th' amplest reach of prospect lay. Is evermore the parents least expense. MI/ILTON.DYEN. Exalted hence, and drunk with secret joy, By which the beauty of the earth appears, The divers-colour'd mantle which she +wea-s. Their young succession all their cares employ; SANDYS. They breed, they brood, instruct, and educate, And make provision for the future state. Nought so vile that on the earth doth live, DRYDEN. But to the earth some special good doth give. SH KThe village all declared how much he knew; SHAKSPEARE.'Twas certain he could write and cypher too: Earth his uncouth mother was, Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage; And blust'ring ]Aolus his boasted sire. And even the story ran, that he could gauge. SPENSER. GOLDSMITH: -Deser/euA T.i5'/~e. 1 5 ED UCA4 TIONW —EL 0 Q UENC E. Hail, foreign wonder!'~Here rills of oily eloquence in soft Whom certain these rough shades did never Meanders lubricate the course they take. breed. COW\PER. MILTON. Power above powers! 0 heavenly eloquence! Take him to develop, if you can, Take him to develop, if you can, That, with the strong rein of commanding And hew the block off, and get out the man. POPE. Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence'Tis education forms the common mind: Of men's affections, more than all their Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. swords! POPE: Mo)ral Essays.. DANIEL. Schoolmasters will I keep within my house, Now private pity strove with public hate, Fit to instruct her youth. To cunning men Reason with rage, and eloquence with fate. I will be very kind; and liberal SIR J. DENHAM. To mine own children, in good briniin up. Soft elocut does thy style renown, Soft elocution does thy style renown, SHAKSPEARE. Gentle or sharp according to thy choice, I do present you with a man of mine, To laugh at follies, or to lash at vice. Cunning in music and the mathematics, DRYDEN. To instruct her fully in those sciences. Some who the depths of eloquence have found, In that unnavigable stream were droiwn'd. He had charge my discipline to frame,.DRYDEN. Aid tutors nouriture to oversee. EBoth orators so much renown'd Wo'aSPENSER.tIn their own depths of eloquence were drown'd. Whoe'er excels in what we prize DRYDEN. Appears a hero in our eyes: Each girl, when pleased with what is taught, 0O! couldst thou break through fate's severe deWill have the teacher in her thought: cree, A blockhead with mielodious voice A blockhead withh mzelodious voice A new Marcellus should arise in thee. In boarding-scllools may have his choice. DRDEN. SWIFT: Cadenzis and Vanessa. NVith eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd: Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, Though harsh the precept, yet the people charm'd. To teach the young idea how to shoot; DRYDEN. To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,, The Christian princess in her tent confers To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast. With fifty of your learnced philosophers, THOMzSON: Seasons. Wholll with such eloquence she does persuade, That they are captives to her reasons made. Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, DrYDN. Anid petrify a genius to a dunce. When sage Milnerva rose, Who stifle nature, and subsist on art, Who coin the face, and petrify the heart. From her sweet lips smooth elocution flows. Who coin the face, and petrify the heart. GAY. YOUNG. YOUNG. As when of old some orator renown'd In Athens or fiee Rome, where eloquence ELOQUENCE. Flourish'd, since mute! to some great cause Plead it to her, address'd, With all the strength and heats of eloquence Stood in himself collected; while each part, Fraternal love and friendship can inspire. Motion, each act, won audience, ere the tongue ADDISON. Sometimes in highth began, as no delay Henry, the forest-born Demosthenes, Of preface brookilig through his zeal of right. Whose thunder shook the Philip of the seas. MILTON. BYRON: Atge of Bronze. Thence to the famous orators repair, No words suffice the secret soul to show; Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence For truth denies all eloquence to woe. W\ielded at will that fierce dlemocratie. BIYRON: C7. o,,'ari. MILTON. EL O Q UENZCE. — EMUIA TIOV. 5 7 Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those Her humble gestures made the residue plain, The top of eloquence, statists indeed, Dumb eloquence persuading more than speech. And lovers of their country. ROSCOMMON. MILTON. And aged ears play truant at his tales, Prompt eloquence And younger hearings are quite ravished, Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous So sweet and voluble is his discourse. verse. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. When he speaks, The breaking of that parliament The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, Blrokle hilm; as that cdishonest victory And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears At Cherolm-a, fatal to liberty, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences. Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, His tongue And leave them honeyless. Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse SHAKSPEARE. appear There is such confusion in my pow'rs, The better reason, to perplex and dash There is such conf As, after some oration fairly spoke MILTON. By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing multitude. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear o hHAngSPARE SHAKSPEARE. The bait of honey'd words; a rougher tongue Draws hitherwardl. Say she be mute, and will not speak a word; MILTON. Then I'll commend her volubility, Thy words had such a mnelting flow, And say she uttereth piercing eloquence. And spoke of truth so sweetly well, They dropp'd like heaven's serenest snow, In such business And all was brightness where they fell! Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th' MOORE. ignorant False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, More learned than the ears. SHAKSPEARE. Its gaudy colours spreads in ev'ry place: The face of nature we no more survey, Listening senates hang upon thy tongue, All glares alike, without distinction gay:- Devolving through the maze of eloquence But true expression, like th' unchanging% sun, A roll of periods sweeter than her song. Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon; THOMSON. It gilds all objects, but it alters none. Eloquence, with all her pomp and charms, POPE. Foretold us useful and sententious truths. Fit words attended on his weighty sense, WALLER. And mild persuasion flow'd in eloquence. Now, with fine phrase, and foppery of tongue, POPE. More graceful action, and a smoother tone, Too plain thy nakecldness of soul espy'd, That orator of fable, and fair face, Why dost thou strive the conscious shame to'Will steal on your bribed hearts. hide, YOUNG. By masks of eloquence, and veils of pride? PRIoR. I ~EMULATION. Men are more eloquent than women made; Those fair ideas to my aid I'll call, But women are more pow'rful to persuade. And emulate my great original. THOMAS RANDOLPH: Azyntas. DRYDEN. Mysterious secrets of a high concern, I would have And weighty truths, solid convincing sense, Him emulate you:'tis no shame to follow Explain'd by unaffected eloquence. The better precedent. ROSCOMMON. BEN JONSON. ~58 ENY..-EPITA4 PHS. By strength Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave, They measure all, of other excellence Is emulation in the learn'd or brave. Not emulous, nor care. who them excels. POPE. MILTON. AMadam, this is mere distraction; What madness rules in brain-sick men, You turn the good we offer into envy. When for so slight and frivolous a cause SHAISPEARE. Such factious emulations shall arise! SHAKSPEARE. They will not stick to say you envied him; And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, Kept him a foreign man still, which so grieved ENVY. him, He who ascends to mountain tops shall find That he ran mad and died. SHAKSPEARE. Their loftiest peaks most wrapp'd in clouds and No metal can, snow; No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenHe who surpasses or subdues mankind ness Must look down on the hate of those below thy shar p envy. 01' thy sharp envy. SHAKSPEARE. BYRON: Childe Haerocl. You dare patronage Yet even her tyranny had such a grace, The woman pardon'd all except her face. The envious barking of your saucy tongue The woman pardon'd all except her face. Against my lord. SHAKSPEARE. With that malignant envy which turns pale, My heart laments that virtue cannot live And sickens, even if a friend prevail, Out of the teeth of emulation. Which merit and success pursues with hate, SHAKSPEARE. And damns the worth it cannot imitate. Vile is the vengeance on the ashes cold, CHURCHILL: Rosczad. And envy base, to bark at sleeping fame. If envious eyes their hurtful rays have cast, SPENSER. SPENSER. More pow'rful verse shall free thee from the blast. Base envy withers at another's joy, DRYDEN. And hates that excellence it cannot reach. THOMSON: Seasonzs. Let envy, then, those crimes within you see, From which the happy never must be free. Had you, some ages past, this race of glory DRYDEN. Run, with amazement we should read your story; Morat's too insolent, too much a brave, toy; iourag -too hinsoenv h a save, But living virtue, all achievements past, His courage to his envy is a slave. DRYDEN. Meets envy still to grapple with at last. WALLER. Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise: For envy is a kind of praise. High stations tumults, but not bliss, create; GAY: Fables. Ndtine think the great unhappy but the great! Fools gaze and envy; Envy darts a sting, Envy not greatness; for thou mak'st thereby Which makes a swain as wretched as a king. Thyself the worse; and so the distance greater. Which makes a swain as wretched as a king. GEORGE HERBERT. It is the art Less than half we find exprest, Of such as have the world in their possession Envy bid conceal the rest. MILTON. TO give it a good name, that fools may envy; All human virtue, to its latest breath, For eny to small minds is flattery. YOUNG. Finds envy never conquer'd but by death: The great Alcides, ev'ry labour past, Had still this monster to subdue at last. EPITAPHS. POPE. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue; By all their country's wishes blest! But, like a shadow, proves the substance true. When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, POPE. Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, EPITAAPHS. 159 She there shall dress a sweeter sod Green be the turf above thee, Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. Friend of my better days; By fairy hands their knell is rung; None knew thee but to love thee, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; Nor named thee but to praise. There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, FITZ-GREENE HIALLECK. To bless the turf that wraps their clay; To bless the turf that wraps their clay; Philiijs, whose touch harmonious could remove And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there I The pangs of guilty power and hapless love; COLLINS. Rest here, distrest by poverty no more, Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before; Rich in the world's opinion, and men's praise, Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine, Ancd full in all we could desire but days: Till angels wake thee with a note like thine! He that is warn'd of this, and shall forbear DR. S. JOHNSON: L3itphl on C. Phihgs, To vent a sigh for him, or shed a tear, tze Agiusicizn. May he live long scorn'd, and unpitied fall, And want a mourner at his funeral. Underneath this stone doth lie BISHOP CORBET. As much beauty as could die; Which in life did harbour give In peace, ye shades of our great grandsires, rest, To more beauty than could live. Eternal spring and rising flow'rs adorn BEN JONSON. The relics of each venerable urn. DRYDEN. Underneath this sable hearse Poor heart! She slumbers in her silent tomb: Lies the subject of all verse, Let her possess in peace that narrow room. Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother: DRYDEN. Death! ere thou hast slain another, This avarice of praise in times to come;, Those long inscriptions, crowded on the tomb. Time shall throw a dart at thee. DRYDEN. BEN JONSON: 2pz'f/, on t/ze Countess of Penzblooke. Should some wild fig-tree take her native bent, And heave below the gaudy monument, Gentle lady, may thy grave'Twould crack the marble titles, and disperse Peace and quiet ever have; The characters of all the lying verse. After this day's travel sore, DRYDEN: Z7uvenal. Sweet rest seize thee evermore. MILTON. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth to fortune and to fame unknown; Thus peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame. And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. POPE. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; Make sacred Charles's tomb forever knowTn; Heaven did a recompense as largely send: Obscure the place, and uninscribed the stone: He gave to Misery all he had, a tear; He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) POPE. a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, What can atone, oh ever-injured shade! Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, Thy fate unpitied, and thy rites unpaid? (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) POPE. The bosom of his Father and his God. GRAY: egy. Yet shall thy grave with rising flow'rs be drest, GRAY: Elegfy. t And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, POPE. The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, How loved, how honour'd once, avails thee not, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, To whom related, or by whom begot; No more shall rouse them from their lowly A heap of dust alone remains of thee: bed.'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be! GRAY: Elegy. POPE. 160 EPITAPHS. -E Q UANI7iTY. -E STEIRNITY. Should some relenting eye Under this stone lies virtue, youth, Glance on the stone where our cold reliques lie. Unblemish'd probity and truth; POPE. Just unto all relations known, The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died. A worthy patriot, pious son. WALLER. POPE: Epitap/l osn Mnjs. Corbet. Earth's highest station ends in "Here he lies," And "Dust to dust " concludes her noblest song. Of manners gentle, of affections mild; YOUNG: Ni.g',t Tong/UZts. In wit a man, simplicity a child. YOUNG: POPE: EpitapA on Gay. To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art! draw near. EQUANIMITY. Here lies the friend most loved, the son most dear; With equal mind what happens let us bear; dear; Who neer knew joy, but friendship might divide, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond Who hne' er kneour joy, but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief, but when he died. DuYDEN. How vain is Reason, Eloquence how weak!'He laughs at all the vulgar cares and fears, If Pope must tell what Harcourt cannot speak. At their vain triumphs, and their vainer tears; Oh! let thy once loved friend inscribe thy stone, An equal temper in his mind he found And with a father's sorrows mix his own. When Fortune flatter'd him, and when she POPE: from the Monzumczent to the son of frown'd. CLance/lor flarcouzrt. DRYDEN. Thy relicks, Rowe, to this fair shrine we trust, Your steady soul preserves her fiame And sacred place by Dryden's awful dust; In good and evil times the same. SWIFT. Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies, To which thy tomb shall guide inquiring eyes. POPE: Epitaph on Reowe. ETERNITY. The secret wound with which I bleed. I Eternity! thou pleasing,, dreadful thought! Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my hearse;hrough what variety of untried being, But on my tombstone thou shalt read Through what new scenes and changes must My answer to thy dubious verse. we pass? PRIOR. The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me; Our grave, But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless ADDISON. mouth,'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us, Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us, SIIAKSPEARE.'Tis Heav'n itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man. With fairest flow'rs, Fidele, ADDISON. I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Hence came its name, in that the grateful Jove SHAKSPEARE. Hath eternized the glory of his love. Live still, and write mine epitaph. CREECH. SHAKSPEARE. And as the better spirit, when she doth bear May here her monument stand so, A scorn of death, doth show she cannot die; To credit this rude age; and show So when the wicked soul death's face doth fear, To future times that even we Ev'n then she proves her own eternity. Some patterns did of virtue see. WALLER. SIR J. DAVIES. HIere lies the learned Savile's heir, What's time, when on eternity we think? So early wise, and lasting fair, A thousand ages in that sea must sink: That none, except her years they told, Time's nothing but a word; a million Thought her a child, or thought her old. Is full as far from infinite as one. WALLER. SIR J. DENHAM. _E TERNITY -E VEXING. I6 I Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, The dews of the evening most carefully shun; Like mortal life to meet eternity. Those tears of the sky for the loss of the sun. SIR J. DENHAM. CHESTERFIELD. He first the fate of Caesar did foretell, For noonday's heats are closer arbours made; And pitied Rome when Rome in Caesar fell; And for fresh ev'ning air, the op'ner glade. In iron clouds conceal'd the public light, DRYDEN. And impious mortals fear'd eternal night. Meahtime the sun descended from the skies, And the bright evening star began to rise. Sure there is none but fears a future state; DRYDEN. And when the most obdurate swear they do not, will Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues. ongues. DRYDEN. The loaded carriers from their evening hive. DRYDEN. Pure and unchanged, and needing no defence Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close F?'om sins, as did my frailer innocence; sins, as did. trailUp yonder hill the village murmur rose; Their joy sincere, with no more sorrow mix'd, There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, Eternity stands permanent and fix'd. DRYDEN. The mingling notes came soften'd from below. GOLDSMITH: Deserted Vil6age. Beyond is all abyss, Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. And hie him home at evening's close, MILTON. To sweet repast and calm repose. I with two fair gifts GRAY: Ode. Created him, endow'd with happiness CAted himorendow' withfondy h iss One summer's eve when the breeze was gone, And immortality; that fondly lost, And the nightingale was mute. This other served but to eternize woe. And the nighti T. K. HERVEY. MILTON. Here condemn'd Now came still evening on, and twilight gray To waste eternal days in woe and pain. Had in her sober livery all things clad: MILTON. Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, Vet some there be, that by due steps aspire They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,, To lay their just hands on that golden key Were slunk, all but the woeful nightingale. That opes the palace of eternity. MILTON. MILTON. The sun, Declined, was hasting now with prone career Not so, when diadem'd with rays divine, Notso, whedade'cwih n, To th' ocean isles, and in th' ascending scale Touch'd with the flame that breaks from virtue'sOf heaven the stars that usher evning lose. Of heav'n the stars that usher ev'ning rose. shrine, Her priestless muse forbids the good to die, mist, Ev'ning mist, And opes the temple of eternity. POPE. Ris'n from a river, o'er the marish glides, And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heels,, All that live must die, Homeward returning. Passing through nature to eternity. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields EVENING. To the night-warbling bird. MILTON. It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; Sweet the coming on It is the hour when lovers' vows Of grateful evening mild. MILTON. Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; And gentle winds, and waters near, When evening gray doth rise, I fetch my round Make music to the lonely ear. Over the mount. BYRON. MILTON. II I62 E VERLAS TING. — E VIL. — EXA MPiLE. They left me then, when the gray-headed even, Nothing could make me sooner to confess Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, That this world had an everlastingness, Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' Than to consider that a year is run wain. Since both this lower world's and the sun's sun MILTON. Did set. The evening comes JOHN DONNE. Kerchieft in a comely cloud, While racking winds are piping loud. Whether we shall meet again, I know not; While racking winds are piping loud. MILTON. - Therefore our everlasting farewell take; Oft on a plat of rising ground Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius. I hear the far-off curfew sound, SHAKSPEARE. Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar. EVIL. MILTON. It was an evening bright and still This is the curse of every evil deed, As ever blush'd on wave or bower, That, propagating still, it brings forth evil. Smiling from heaven, as if nought ill COLERIDGE. Could happen in so sweet an hour. Evil into the mind of God or man MOORE: Loves of the Angels. May come and go, so unapproved, and leave Then take repast, till Hesperus display'd No spot or blame behind. His golden circlet in the western shade. MILTON. POPE. The evil that men do lives after them; You, whose pastime The good is oft interred with their bones. Is to make midnight-mushrooms; that rejoice SHAKSPEARE. To hear the solemn curfew. SHAKSPEARE. There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day SHAKSPEARE. Is crept into the bosom of the sea. SHAKSPEARE. As gentle shepherd in sweet eventide, EXAMPLE.'When ruddy Phcebus'gins to welk in west, I'll gaze forever on thy godlike father, M1arks which do bite their hasty supper best. Transplanting one by one into my life SPENSER. His bright perfections, till I shine like him. And now fair Phoebus'gan decline in haste ADDISON.'His weary wagon to the western vale. Your edicts some reclaim from sins, SPENSER. But most your life and blest example wrins. iNow'gan the golden Phoebus for to steep DRYDEN. His fiery face in billows of the west, The fault of others' sway And his faint steeds water'd in ocean deep, He set as sea-marks for himself to shun. Whilst from their journal labours they did DRYDEN. rest. SPENSER. Since truth and constancy are vain, Since neither love, nor sense of pain, Now day is done, and night is nighing fast. Nor force of reason, can persuade Nor force of reason, can persuade, Then let example be obey'd. Of evening tinct GRANVILLE. The purple-streaming amethyst is thine. By thy example kings are taught to sway, THOMSON. THOMSON.. Heroes to fight, and saints may learn to pray. GRANVILLE. EVERLASTING. EVERLASTING. ust precepts thus from great examples given, And what a trifle is a moment's breath, She drew from them what they derived from Laid in the scale with everlasting death! Ieav'n. SIR J. DENHAM. POPE. .EXE]R CISE.-EXPE CTA TIONV. t-EXPiERIIECE. IE.-EXTR-EMES I63 On the smooth expanse of crystal lakes, So fathers speak, persuasive speech and mild! The sinking stcne at first a circle makes; Their sage experience to the fav'rite child. The trembling surface, by the motion stirr'd, POPE. Spreads in a second circle, then a third; This sad experience cites me to reveal, Wide, and more wide, the floating rings advance, And what I dictate is. from what I feel. Fill all the wat'ry plain, and to the margin dance. PRIOR. POPE. Trust not my reading, nor my observations, Example is a living law, whose sway VWhich with experimental seal do warrant Men more than all the written laws obey. The tenor of my ook. The tenor of my book. SIR C. SEDLEY. SHAKSPEARE. EXERCISE. EXTREMES. The wise for cure on exercise depend: Heat burns his rise, frost chills his setting beams, God never made his work for man to mend. And vex the world with opposite extremes. DRYDEN. CREECH. Their- airy limbs in sports they exercise, Betwixt th' extremes, two happier climates hold And on the green contend the wrestler's prize. The temper that partakes of hot and cold. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sea would be pools without the brushing air Extremes in nature equal good produce. To curl the waves; and sure some little care POPE. Should weary nature so, to make her want repose. Avoid extremes, and shun the faults of such DRYDEN. Who still are pleased too little, or too much. The purest exercise of health, POPE. The kind refresher of the summer heats. THOMSON. EYES. The beams of light had been in vain display'd Had not the eye been fit for vision made;'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear. In vain the author had the eye prepared POPE. With so much skill, had not the light appeared. Expectation whirls me round; STR R. BLACKIMORE. Th' imaginary relish is so sweet Th imaginary relish is so sweet er deep blue eyes smile constantly,-as if That it enchants my sense. SHAKI(SPEARE. I they had by fitness _Won the secret of a happy dream, she does not care to speak. EXPERIENCE. MRS. BROWNING. Not from experience, for the world was new, And the large musing eyes, neither joyous nor He only from their cause their natures knew. sorry, SIR J. DENHAM. Sing on like the angels in separate glory Between clouds of amber. Some truths are not by reason to be tried, MRs. BROWNING. But we have sure experience for our guide. DRYDEN. Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes) Till old experience do attain Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire To something of prophetic strain. Until she spoke; then, through its soft disguise, MILTON. Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire, And love than either. All things by experience And love than either. BYRON. Are most improved; then sedulously think To meliorate thy stock; no way or rule Her eye's dark charm'twere vain to tell; Be unessay'd. But gaze on that of the gazelle, JOHN PHILIPS. It will assist thy fancy well. BYRON. 164 EYES. An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue, Mark but how terribly his eyes appear; Is no great matter, so'tis in request; And yet there's something roughly noble there;'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue; W\ hich in unfashion'd nature looks divine, The kindest may be taken for the best. And like a gem, does in the quarry shine. BYRON. DRYDEN. And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eye: I dare not trust these eyes The wind was down, but still the sea ran high. They dance in mists, and dazzle with surprise. DRYDEN. Oh! o'er the eye Death most exerts his might, And hurls the spirit from her throne of light. All eyes you draw, and with the eyes the heart; BYRON. Of your own pomp yourself the greater part. DRYDEN. First, the two eyes, which have the seeing pow'r, Stand as one watchman, spy, or sentinel, groves, Being placed aloft, within the head's high tow'r; And bright as when thy eyes first lighted up our loves. And though both see, yet both but one thing loves. DRYDEN. tell. SIR J. DAVIES. From some she cast her modest eyes below; And yet the lights which in my tower do shine, At some her gazing glances roving flew. Mine eyes, which view all objects nigh and far, FAIRFAX. Look not into this little world of mine. Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright. SIR J. DAVIES. GAY. For, if we chance to fix our thoughts elsewhere, A sprightly red vermilions all her face; A sprightly red vermilions all her face; Though our eyes open be, we cannot see. And her eyes languish with unusual grace. SIR J. DAVIES. GRANVILLE. Nine things to sight required are: The pow'r to see, the light, the visible thing, And gospel light first beam'd from Bullen's Being not too small, too thin, too nigh, too far, eyes. Clear space and time, the, form distinct to GRAY: Long Story. bring. SIR J. DAVIES. Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, Love to our citadel resorts The shooting stars attend thee; Through those deceitful sallyports; And the elves also, Our sentinels betray our forts. Whose little eyes glow SIR J. DENHAM. Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. HERRICK:,aTNIA/ Piece tD t 7zli'a. His awful presence did the crowd surprise, Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes; Thy eyes that were so bright, love, Eyes that confess'd him born for kingly sway; Have now a dimmer shine; So fierce, they flash'd intolerable day. But what they've lost in light, love, DRYDEN. Is what they gave to mine. THOMAS HOOD. Misdoubt my constancy, and do not try; But stay and ever keep me in your eye. All the gazers on the skies DRYDEN. Read not in fair heaven's story My eyes are still the same; each glance, each Expresser truth, or truer glory, grace, Than they might in her bright eyes. Keep their first lustre, and maintain their place, BEN JONSON. Not second yet to ally other face. The light of midnight's starry heaven DRYDEN. Is in those radiant eyes; / Some cruel pleasure will from thence arise, The rose's crimson life has given To view the mighty ravage of your eyes. That cheek its glowing dyes. DRYDEN. L. E. LANDON. E YES. I65'Why was the sight A slave I am to Clara's eyes: To such a tender ball as th' eye confined, The gipsy knows her pow'r, and flies. So obvious and so easy to be quench'd, PRIOR. And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused; His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, That she might look at will through every pore? Show'd spirit proud, and prompt to ire; MILTON. Yet lines of thought upon his cheek Did deep design and counsel speak. Ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence. MILTON: L'Alleg;'o. From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; And looks commercing with the skies, They are the books, the arts, academies, Thy rapt soul sitting n the eyes. That show, contain, and nourish all the world, Else none at all in aught proves excellent. O love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, SHAKSPEARE. And make lmly tongue victorious as her eyes. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, POPE. Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes. Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike; And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies; POPE. For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. SmAtKSPEARE. Her lovely looks a sprightly mind disclose, Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw POPE. All the pow'r this charm doth owe. SHAKSPEARE. Why has not man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason-man is not a fly. Her eyes, in heaven, POI'E. Would through the airy region stream so bright See by degrees a purer blush arise, That birds would sing, and think it were not And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. night. SHAKSPEA RE. POPE. Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray, Thy hones are marrowless; thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day. Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Thou starest with. SHAKSPEARE. Those smiling eyes, attempting ev'ry ray,s and ears, Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day. Two traded pilots'twixt the dangerous shores POPE. Of will and judgment. SIAKSPEARE. Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before, Nor doth the eye itself, And these love-darting eyes must roll no more. That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, POPE. Not going from itself; but eyes opposed, Salute each other with each other's form. No happier task these faded eyes pursue: SHAKSPEARE. To read and weep is all they now can do. POPE. Thou tell'st mne, there is murder in mine eye:'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, His pow'r can heal me, and relight my eye. That eyes-that are the frail'st and softest things, POPE. - Who shut their coward gates on atomiesPass but some fleeting years, and these poor eyes, Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers Where now without a boast some lustre lies, No longer shall their little honours keep, A wither'd hermit fivescore winters worn But only be of use to read or weep. Might shake off fifty looking in her eye. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. i66 E YE S. Now show the wound mine eye hath made in Long while I sought to what I might compare thee! Those powerful eyes, which lighten my dark Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains spirit, Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, Yet found I nought on earth to which I dare The cicatrice and capable impressure Resemble the image of their goodly light. Thy palm some moment keeps: but now mine SPENSER. eyes, His blazing eyes, like two bright shining fields, Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not. Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee. Did burn with wrath, and sparkled living fire; As two broad beacons set in open fields The night of sorrow now is turn'd to-day: Send forth their flames. Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth, SPENSER. Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array Happy lines, on which with starry light He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: Those lamping eyes will deign sometimes to look. And as the bright sun glorifies the sky, SPENSER. So is her face illumined with her eye. And her fair eyes, like stars that dimmed were SHARKSPEARE. With darksome cloud, now show their goodly Yet looks he like a king: behold his eye, beams. SPENSER. As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majesty. Some praise the eyes they love to see, SHAKSPEARE. As rivalling the western star; But eyes I kinow well worth to me Though my heart's content firm love doth bear, A thousand firmaments afar. Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. JOHN STERLING. SHAKSPEARE.'Tis true, but let it not be known, The fixture of her eye hath motion in't, My eyes are somewhat diminish grown; As we were mock'd with art. For nature, always in the right, SHAKSPEARE. To your decays adapts my sight. SWIFT. Those eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is Waxspet, Amoret, my lovely foe, spent, Waxdim,.as rrawingf to their exigent. Tell me where thy strength does lie, WTax dim, as drawing to theirexigent. SHRSEAE. Where the pow'r that charms us so, SHAKSPEARE. In thy soul, or in thy eye? Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes WALLER. First hand me; on mine own accord, I'll off. The heedless lover does not know SHAKSPEARE. Whose eyes they are that wound him so. WALLER. A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind. SHAKSPEARE. Ye lofty beeches, tell this matchless dame, That if together ye fed all one flame, Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee t otld not equalize the hundredth part It would not equalize the hundredth part once: Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart. The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid, WALLER. Will make or man or woman madly dcoat Upon the next live creature that it sees. Sounds which address the ear are lost and die SHARSPEARE. In one short hour; but that which strikes the eye Lives long upon the mind; the faithful sight Thus are my eyes still captive to one sight; Engraves the knowledge with a beam of light. Thus all my thoughts are slaves to one thought WATTS. still. Those eyes, SIR P. SIDNEY. Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky, Believe thyself, thy eyes, Whose azure depth their colour emulates, That first inflamed, and lit me to my love, Must needs be conversant with upward looks: Those stars that still must guide me to my joy. Prayer's voiceless service. SOUTHERN. WORDSWORTH. E4AIRI-ES. 16 7 FAIRIES. Fairy elves, Whose midnight revels by a forest side, To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers, ass their lives Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, And never know the weight of human hours. BYRON. Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth The maskers come late, and I think will stay, Wheels her pale course: they on their mirth Like fairies, till the cock crow them away. and dance DONNE. Intent, with jocund music charm his ear: And now they throng the moonlight glade, At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Above-below-on every side, MILTON. Their little minim forms array'd By dimpled brook, and fountain-brim, In all the tricksy pomp of fairy pride. The wood-nymphs deck'd with daisies trim DRAKE: CzlJprit Fly. Their merry wakes and pastimes keep: What hath night to do with sleep? In days of old, when Arthur fill'd the throne, MILTON. Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown, Demons found blown, The king of elves and little fairy queen In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Gamboll'd on heaths, and danced on ev'ry Whose power hath a true consent green; green; I With planet or with element. MILTON. And when the jolly troop had led the round, On the tawny sands and shelves The grass unbidden rose, and mark'd the The grass unbidden rose, and mark'd the Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. ground.MILTON. DRYDEN. MILTON. Good luck befriend thee, son; for at thy birth In the bright moonshine while winds whistle loud, The fairy danced upon the hearth. MILTON. Tivy, tivy, tivy, we mount and we fly, I v I took it for a fairy vision All rocking in a downy white cloud; Of some gay creatures of the element, And lest our leap from the sky should prove That in the colours of the rainbow live, That in the colours of the rainbow live, too far, And play i' th' plighted clouds. We slide on the back of a new-falling star. MILTON. DRYDEN. How the drudging goblin sweat With songs and dance we celebrate the day; To ear his cream-bowl duly set; At other times we reign by night alone, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, And, posting through the skies, pursue the moonz.His shadowy flail had threshd the corn. DRYDEN.MILTON. XWhat you saw was all a fairy show, IlHe, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, And all those airy shapes you now behold Basks at the fire his hairy strength; WVere human bodies once. And crop-full out of doors he flings, DRYDEN. Ere the first cock his matin rings. Be secret and discreet: the fairy favours MILTON. Are lost, when not conceal'd. About this spring, if ancient bards say true, The dapper elves their moonlight sports renew;;~;~ You have no more work Their pigmy king and little fairy queen Than the coarse and country fairy, In circling dances gamboll'd on the green, That doth haunt the hearth or dairy. While tuneful sprites a merry concert made, BEN JONSON. And airy music warbled through the shade. These are nights POPE. Solemn to the shining rites The spirits, Of the fairy prince and knights, Some thread the mazy ringlets of her hair, While the moon their orgies lights. Some hang upon the pendants of her ear. BEN JONSON. POPE. i68 EAIRZES. If e'er one vision touchdcl thy infant thouzht, Fairies use flowers for their charactery. Of all the nurse and all the priest have tau-ght, SHAKSPEARE. Of airy elves by moonlight shadow seen, This is that very Mab The silver token, and the circled green.s That plats the manes of horses in the night, POPE. And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, Ye sylphs and sylphids, to your chief give ear: Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes. Fays, fairies, genii, elves, and demons, hear. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. In this state she gallops, night by night, The sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Through all the giddy circle they pursue. Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, His post neglects, or leaves the fair at larges Shall' fee' s. You moonshine resellers, and shades of night, Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny, Be stopt in vials, or transfix'd with pins. Attend your office. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. They're fairies! he that speaks to them shall die: There the snake throw~s her enamell'd skin; Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy inI'll wink and couch; no man their sports must Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. eye. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. And nightly, meadow fairies, look you sing,,, Her chariot is an empty hazelnut, Like to the garter-compass in a ring: Made by the joiner Squirrel, or old Grub, The expressure that it bears, green let it be, TiMe out of mind the fairies' coach-ers. More fertile fresh than all the world to see. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. You spotted snakes, with doue tongue, Where fires thou find'st unraked, and hearths You spotted snlakes, with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; unswept, --:: —- 1 t —,,There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry. Newt and blindworms, do no wrong; SHAKSPEAiE. Come not near our fairy queen. SHAKSPEARE. Nan Page my daughter, and my little son, Thrlough thics hnouse give gclimm~ering light, And three or four more of their growth, we'll dress By the dead and drowsy fire; ry the lead and drowsy fire; Like urchins, ouphes, and fairies, green and Every elf, and fairy sprite, Hop as light as bird from brier. SI-IASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Come now, a roundel and a fairy song, To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,,, SHAI(SPEARE. Make her thanks bless thee. SHAKSPEARE. Never since that middle summer's spring This is the fairy land: oh, spite of spites, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,'We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites. But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies,Set your heart at rest Finely attired in a robe of white. The fairy-land buys not the child of me. SHAKSPEARE. SIIAKSPEARE. We fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team, The joyous nymphs and light-foot fairies, From the presence of the sun, Which thither came to hear their music sweet, Following darkness like a dream, And to the measure of their melodies Now are frolic. Did learn to move their nimble-shifting feet. SHAKSPEARE. I PENSE R. FA IRIES. — EAITH. 69 I have a venturous fairy, that shall seek Observe the wretch who hath his faith forsook, The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee thence new How clear his voice, and how assured his look! nuts. Like innocence, and as serenely bold SHAKSPEARE. As truth, how loudly he forswears thy gold! But friendly fairies met with many graces, DRYDEN. And light-foot nymphs can chase the ling'ring A lively faith will bear aloft the mind, night And leave the luggage of good works behind. With heydegives, and trimly trodden traces. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, From thence a fairy thee unweeting reft, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight; There as thou slept'st in tender swaddling O teach me to believe thee thus conceald, band, And search no further than thyself reveal'd. And her base elfin brood there for thee left: DRYDEN. Such men do changelings call, so changed by fairies' theft. For mysterious things of faith rely SPENSER. On the proponent, heaven's authority. DRYDEN. Love is all spirit: fairies sooner may Be taken tardy, when they night-tricks play, Th' unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross, Than we; we are too dull and lumpish. Plods on to heav'n, and ne'er is at a loss. SIR J. SUCKLING. DRYDEN. Before the downfall of the fairy state, Then banish'd faith shall once again return, This dale, a pleasing region, not noblest, And vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn. This dale possess'd they, and had still possess'd. DRYDEN. TICKELL. Well I know hillm; There haply by the ruddy damsel seen, Of easy temper, naturally good, Or shepherd boy, they featly foot the green. And faithful to his word. DRYDEN. TICKELL. The childlike faith that asks not sight, FAITH. Waits not for wonder or for sign, Believes, because it loves, aright, His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might Shall see things greater, things divine. Be wrong, his life I'm sure was in the right. Heaven to that gaze shall open wide, COWLEY. I IAnid brightest angels to and firo If faith with reason never doth advise, On messages of love shall glide Nor yet tradition leads her, she is then'Twixt God and Christ below. KEBLE. From heav'n inspired; and secretly grows wise Above the schools, we know not how, nor what is faith, love, virtue unessay'd, when. Alone, without exterior help sustain'd? SIR W. DAVENANT. MILTON. Fond men! if we believe that men do live What will they, then? what but unbuild Under the zenith of both frozen poles, A living temple, built by faith to stand? Though none come thence advertisement to give, MILTON. Why bear we not the like faith of our souls? SIR J. DAVIES Her failing, while her faith to me remains, SIR J. DAVIES. I should conceal. For you alone MILTON. I broke my faith with injured Palamon. DRYDEN. So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found; Among the faithless faithful only he. His promise Palamon accepts; but pray'd Among the faithless faithul only he To keep it better than the first he made: Thus fair they parted, till the morrow's dawn; Then faith shall fail, and holy hope shall die; For each had laid his plighted faith to pawn. One lost in certainty, and one in joy. DRYDEN. PRIOR. 1 70 EA1TH. -FALSE. -— FALSEHO OD. I'll ne'er distrust my God for cloth and bread, FALSEHOOD. While lilies flourish, and the raven's fed. While lilies flourish, and the raven's fed. But oh, that treacherous breast! to whom weak QUARLES. YOU you Now God be praised, that to believing souls Did trust our counsels, and we both may rue, Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair. Having his falsehood found too late!' Twas he SHAI(SPEARE. That made me cast you guilty, and you me. JOHN DONNE. Which to believe of her Life and death are equal in themselves: Must be a faith, that reason, without miracle, Shall never plant in me. SHARSPEARE. That which would cast the balance is thy falseSHAKSPEARE. hood. DRYDEN. I have been forsworn In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved. Artificer of fraud; he was the first SHAKSPEARE. That practised falsehood under saintly show. MILTON. Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; For no falsehood can endure Those he commands move only in command, Touch of celestial temper, but returns Nothing in love. N nSHARnSPEARE.g iOf force to its o'wn likeness. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. Is't not enough that to this lady mild Tnou falsed uath thy faitth with perjury? Who dares think one thing, and another tell, Thou falsed hath thy faith with perjury? SPENSER. iMy heart detests him as the gates of hell. POPE. Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death, To break the shock which nature cannot shun, The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, And lands thought smoothly on the farther shore. And, in the cunning, truth's itself a lie. YOUNG: Nig'it Thozug/hts. POPE. Thy better soul abhors a liar's part; Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart. FALSE. So hast thou cheated Theseus with a wile, As folks, quoth Richard, prone to leasing, Against thy vow, returning to beguile Say things at first because they're pleasing; Against thy vow, returning to beguile Under a borrow'cd name; as false to me, Then prove what they have once asserted, Nor care to have their lie deserted: So false art thou to him who set thee free. DRYDEN. Till their own dreams at length deceive them, And, oft repeating, they believe them. So the false spider, when her nets are spread, PRIOR. Deep ambush'd in her silent den does lie. DRYDEN. NO falsehood shall defile my lips with lies, Or with a veil of truth disguise. Tell him, I did in vain his brother move, SANDYS. And yet he falsely said he was in love; Falsely; for had he truly loved, at least To lapse in fulness He would have giv'n one day to my request. Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood DRYDEN. Is worse in kings than beggars. He seem'd SHAIKSPEARE. For dignity composed, and high exploit; But all was false and hollow. For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have. SHAKSPEARE. What thou wouldst highly, That thou wouldst holily; wouldst not play Such is the face of falsehood, such the sight false, Of foul Duessa, when her borrow'd light And yet wouldst wrongly win. Is laid away, and counterfessance known. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. FAM4E. 171 Let a man be ne'er so wise, Of ev'ry nation each illustrious name He may be caught with sober lies; Such toys as these have cheated into fame; For, take it in its proper light, Exchanging solid quiet to obtain'Tis just what coxcombs call a bite. The windy satisfaction of the brain. SWIFT. DRYDEN. Their temples wreathed with leaves that still reFAME. new; How does the lustre of our father's actions, deathless laurel is the victor's due. Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him,. DRYDEN. Break out, and burn with more triumphant blaze! Yet this mad chase of fame, by few pursued, ADDISON. Has drawn destruction on the multitude. DRYDEN. Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where fame's proud temple shines May your sick fame still languish till it die, afar? And you grow cheap in every subject's eye. Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime DRYDEN. Has felt the influence of malignant star I stand in need of one whose glories may And waged with fortune an eternal war? Redeem my crimes, ally me to his fame. BEATTIE: /linstrel. DRYDEN. Studious of good, man disregarded fame, Tuscan Valerius by force o'ercame, And useful knowledge was his eldest aim. And not belied his mighty father's name. SIR R. BLACKMORE. DRYDEN. Absurd! to think to overreach the grave, If I by chance succeed, And from the wreck of names to rescue ours: Know I am not so stupid, or so hard, The best concerted schemes men lay for fame Not to feel praise, or fame's deserved reward. Die fast away: only themselves die faster. DRYDEN. The far-famed sculptor, and the laurell'd bard, Had we but lasting youth and time to spare, Those bold insurers of eternal fame., Some might be thrown away on fame and war. Supply their little feeble aids in vain. DRYDEN. BLAIR: Grave. This calm'd his cares; soothed with his future Fame is the thirst of youth, —but I am not fame, So young as to regard men's frown or smile And pleased to hear his propagated name. As loss or guerdon of a glorious lot; DRYDEN. I stood and stand alone,-remember'd or forgot. BYRON: Hrod The good Aneas am I call'd; a name, BYRON: Cjzi/de Haro/d While fortune favour'd, not unknown to fame. What is the end of fame?'tis but to fill DRYDEN. A certain portion of uncertain paper: n His beauty these, and those his blooming age, Some liken it to climbing up a hill, The rest his house and his own fame engage. Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour: DRYDEN. For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, None was disgraced; for falling is no shame, And bards burn what they call their "midnight And cowardice alone is loss of fame: taper," The vent'rous knight is from the saddle thrown; To have, when the original is dust, But'tis the fault of fortune, not his own. A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust. DRYDEN. BYRON. A foreign son upon the shore descends, The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends. Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it. DRYDEN. CIBaER: Richznard frf., ilteYed. et, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r, If what I gain in empire A beauteois princess with a crown in dow'r, I lose in fame, I think myself no gainer. So fire your mind, in arms assert your right. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. 1 7 2 FA 4ME. Some as justly fame extols Our best notes are treason to his fame, For lofty lines in Smithfield drolls. Join'cl with the loud applause of public voice. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. For well you know, and can record alone, Bigoted to this idol, we disclaim What fame to future times conveys but darkly Rest, health, and ease, for nothing but a name. down. GARTH. DRYDEN. Honour's the noblest chase; pursue that game, The more effeminate and soft his life, And recompense the loss of love with fame. The more his fame to struggle to the field. GRANVILLE. DRYDEN. What is an age in dull renown drudged o'er! A noble emulation. heats your breast, One little single hour of love is more. And your own fame now robs you of your rest: GRANVILLE. Good actions still must be maintain'd with good, Let no vain fear thy gen'rous ardour tame; As bodies nourish'd with resembling food. But stand erect, and sound as loud as fame. DRYDEN. GRANVILLE. They sung no rmore, or only sung his fame; Fame, not contented with her broad highway, Struck dumb, they all admired the godlike man. Delights, for change, through private paths to DRYDEN. stray. WALTER HARTE. But who will call those noble, who deface, By meaner acts, the glories of their race; If that thy fame with every toy be posed, Whose only title to their father's fame'Tis a thin web, which poisonous fancies Is couch'd in the dead letters of their name? make; DRYDEN. But the great soldier's honour was composed Of thicker stuff, which could endure a shake: My soul is all the same, Unmoved with fear, and moved with martial Wisdom picks friends; civility plays the rest; Unmovred with fear, and moved with martial A toy, shunn'd cleanly, passeth with the best. fame; GEORGE HEIRBiERT. But my chill blood is curdled in my veins, And scarce the shadow of a man remains. He left the name, at which the world grew pale, DRYDEN. To point a moral, or adorn a tale. DR. JOHNSON: Vanziy ofHznman z F2skies. Draw him strictly so, That all who view the piece may know The fame that a man wins himself is best; He needs no trappings of fictitious fame. That he may call his own: honours put on him DRYDEN. Make him no more a man than his clothes do, Wlhich are as soon ta'en off. Likle you, a man; and hither led by fame, are as soon ta'en off MIDDLETON. Not by constraint, but by my choice, I came. DRYDEN. Fame is the spur that the clear spirit cloth raise (That last infirmity of iloble mind) A chief renown'd in war,, To scorn delights, and live laborious days; Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name, t r n n e But the fait guerdon when we hope to find, And through the conquered world diffuse our And think to bulrst out into sudden blaze, SR.DRYDEN. Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life. Life with ease I can disclaim, MILTON. And think it oversold to purchase fame. DRYDEN. Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil. But if to fame alone thou dost pretend, MILTON. The miser will his empty palace lend, Set wide with doors, adorn'd with plated brass, He can spread thy name o'er lad and seas, Where droves, as at a city-gate, may pass. Whatever clime the sun's bright circle TONms. DRYDEN. TFAME. 17 3 Those other two, equall'd with me in fate, Fame's high temple stands; So were I equall'd with them in renown! Stupendous pile; not rear'd by mortal hands! Blind Thamyris, and blind Mmeonides; Whate'er proud Rome, or artful Greece, beheld, And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old. Or elder Babylon, its frame excell'd. MILTON. POPE. Along the stream of time thy name What is glory but the blaze of fame, A What is glory lut the blaze of fame, Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame. The people's praise, if always praise unmix'd? POPE. MILTON. The tomb with manly arms and trophies raise; They cast to get themselves a name, There, high in air, memorial of my name, Regardless whether good or evil fame. Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame. MILTON.POPE. Strength to glory aspires But sure the eye of time beholds no name Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame. So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame. MILTON. POPE. Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth; Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides, And what most merits fame, in silence hid. And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides. MILTON. POPE. Fame, that her high worth to raise, Their names inscribed unnumber'd ages past, Seemy'd erst so lavish and profuse, From time's first birth, with time itself shall last, Mfre tmay justly now accuse There ever new, nor subject to decays, Of detraction from her praise. MILTON. Spread and grow brighter with the length of MILTON. days. Here let those who boast in mortal things POPE. Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, Hope, too long with vain delusion fed, And strength, and art, are easily outdone to the rumour of fallacious fame, By spirits reprobate. Gives to the roll of death his glorious name. MILTON. POE. What's fame? a fancied life in others' breath, All fame is foreign, but of true desert; A thing beyond us, ev'n before our death. thing beyond us, ev'n before our death. Plays round the head, but comes not near the Just what you hear, you have; and what's heart The samemy lordunknown, if or yourown. One self-approving hour whole years outweighs The same, my lord, if Tully's, or your own. The shame, my lord, if it ullyg, ors your Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas. All that we feel of it begins and ends POPE. In the small circle of our foes or friends; To all beside as much an empty shade, Henry and Edward, brightest sons of fame, ToAs Eugene living, a sar dead. And virtuous Alfched, a empty sacred name, POPE. After a life of glorious toils endured, Closed their long glories with a sigh. How vain that second life in others' breath, POPE. Th' estate which wits inherit after death! Proud fame's imperial seat Ease, health, and life for this they must resign; With jewels blazed, magnificently great. Unsure the tenure, but how vast the fine! POPE. The great man's curse without the gain endure; Though short my stature, yet my name extends Be envied, wretched; and be flatter'd, poor. Be envied, wretched; and be flatterd, oor. To heav'n itself, and earth's remotest ends. POPE. POPE. Nor fame I slight, nor for her favours call: Fame, impatient of extremes, decays She comes unlook'd for, if she comes at all. Not more by envy than excess of praise. POPE. POPE. Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown; Not Tyro, nor Mycene, match her name, O grant an honest fame, or grant me none. X Nor great Alcmena, the proud boasts of fame. POPE. POPE. 174 FA E. Alas! not dazzled with their noontide ray, Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Compute the morn and evening to the day; Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, The whole amount of that enormous fame, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; A tale that blends their glory with their shame. When, spite of cormorant devouring time, POPE. The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen Yet wide was spread their fame in ages past, And poets once had promised they should last. edge PPE. And make us heirs of all eternity. POPE. SHAI(SPEARE. How shall I then your helpless fame defend? am sorry'Twill then be infamy to seem your fiiend. That he approves the common liar, Fame, POPE. Who speaks him thus at Rome. Fame, that delights around the world to stray, SHAKSPEARE. Scorns not to take our Argos in her way. Let us satisfy our eyes POPE. With the memorials and the things of fame Whose honours with increase of ages grow, That do renown this city. SHAKSPEARE. As streams roll down enlarging as they go. POPE. The cry went once for thee, And still it might, and yet it may again, And what is fame? the meanest have their day; And still it might, and yet it may again, If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive The greatest can but blaze, and pass away. POPE. And case thy reputation in a tent. SHAKSPEARE. The great Antilocus! a name Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame. Then shall our names, POPE. Familiar in their mouth as household words, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd. Above'all Greek, above all Roman fame. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. The flying rumours gather'd as they roll'd: Still the fine's the crown; Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told; Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. SHAKSPEARE. And all who told it added something new; And all who heard it made enlargement too: Famed by thy tutor, and thy parts of nature; In ev'ry ear it spread, on ev'ry tongue it grew. Thrice famed, beyond all erudition. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. In arts and science'tis the same,- I have been Our rivals' hurts create our fame. The book of his good acts, whence men have PRIOR. read His fame, like gold, the more'tis try'd His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified. The more shall its intrinsic worth proclaim. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. Die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Thy arms pursue, Then there is hope a great man's memory Paths of renown, and climb ascents of fame. May outlive his life half a year. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. Now, Mars, she said, let fame exalt her voice; Ah me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, Nor let thy conquests only be her choice. To think how modest worth neglected lies, PRIOR. While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise, When for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise. We bend to that the w,orking of the heart. SHENSTONE: Schoo[list$ress. SHAEISPEARE. And well beseems all knights of noble name, Death makes no conquest of this conqueror, That covet in the immortal book of fame For now he lives in fame, though not in life. To be eternized, that same to haunt. SHAKSPEARE. l SPENSER. .FA ME-FA. -EA MINVE FA NC Y. I 75 Joy may you have, and everlasting fame, You tempt the fury of my three attendants, Of late most hard achievement by you done, Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire. For which inrolled is your glorious name SHAKSPEARE. In heav'nly registers above the sun. IaSuPENSER. The sacred sons of vengeance, on whose course SPENSER. Corrosive famine waits, and kills the year. Certes, Sir Knight, ye been too much to blame, THOMSON. Thus for to blot the honour of the dead, And with foul cowardice his carcase shame, Whose living hands immortalized his name. FANCY. SPENSER. With these sometimes she doth her time beguile; Let stubborn pride possess thee long, These do by fits her phantasy possess. And be thou negligent of fame; SR J. DAVIS. With ev'ry muse to grace thy song, May'st thou despise a poet's name. Yet in this agony his fancy wrought, SWIFT. And fear supply'd him with this happy thought. What so foolish as the chase of fame??DYDEN. How vain the prize! how impotent our aim! Love is by fancy led about, For what are men, who grasp at praise sublime, From hope to fear, from joy to doubt: But bubbles on the rapid stream of time, Whom we now a goddess call, That rise and fall, that swell, and are no more, Divinely graced in every feature, Born and forgot, ten thousand in an hour? Strait's a deform'd, a perjured creature: YOUNG. Love and hate are fancy all. The well-swoln ties an equal homage claim, GRANVILLE. And either shoulder has its share of fame. In the soul YOUNG. Are Ilany lesser faculties, that serve Fame is a bubble the reserved enjoy; Reason as chief: among these fancy next Who strive to grasp it, as they touch, destroy. Her office holds; of all external things, YOUNG. Which the five watchful senses represent, Take up no more than you by worth may claim, She forms imaginations, airy shapes, Lest soon you prove a bankrupt in your fame. Which reason joining or disjoining, frames YOUNG. All what we affirm, or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion. The breath of others raises our renown, MILTON. Our own as soon blows the pageant down. YOUNG. Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell Pursuit of fame with pedants fills our schools, Of fancy, my internal sight. And into coxcombs burnishes our fools. MILTON. YOUNG. The brain contains ten thousand cells; With fame, in just proportion, envy grows; In each some active fancy dwells. The man that makes a character makes foes. PRIOR. YOUNG. Fancy flows in, and muse flies high; For as by depredations wasps proclaim He knows not where my clack will lie. The fairest fruit, so these the fairest fame. PRIOR. YOUNG. Some lower muse, perhaps, who lightly treads The devious paths where wanton fancy leads. FAMINE. ROWE. This city never felt a siege before, Woe to the youth whom fancy gains, But from the lake received its daily store; Winning from reason's hand the reins: Which now shut up, and millions crowded here, Pity and woe! for such a mind Famnine will soon in multitudes appear. Is soft, contemplative, and kind. DRYDEN. SIR W. SCOTT. 176 FANCY. — ASHIZOV. Tell me, where is fancy bred, Rich, fashionable robes her person deck; Or in the heart, or in the head? Pendants her ears, and pearls adorn her neck. How begot, how nourished? DRYDEN. It is engender'd in the eyes, It is engenderd in the eyes, In fashions wayward, and in love unkind; With gazing fed; and fancy dies For Cupid deigns not wound a currish mind. In the cradle where it lies. SHAKSPEARE. FAIRFAX. In times of old, when British nymphs were But all the story of the night told over known More witnesseth than fancy's images, And gr, To love no foreign fashions like their own. And grows to something of great constancy, GARTH. But, howsoever, strange and admirable. SHARSPEARE. A different toil another forge employs; Here the loud hammer fashions female toys: oro says:'tis but our fantasy, Each trinket that adorns the modern dame Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us: First to these little artists owed its frame. Therefore I have intreated him, GAy. That, if again this apparition comes, He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. And even while Fashion's brightest arts decoy, SHAKSPEARE. The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy. GOLDSMITH. How now, my lord, why do you keep alone, Of sorriest fancies your companions making? Be not the first by whom the new is tried, Using those thoughts which should indeed have Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. POPE. died With them they think on? Painted for sight and essenced for the smell, SHAKSPEARE. Like frigates fraught with spice and cochineal, Not so sick, my lord, Sail in the ladies: how each pirate eyes As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies. So weak a vessel and so rich a prize! SHAKSPEARE. There in full opulence a banker dwelt, She glares in balls, front boxes, and the ring; Who all the joys and pangs of riches felt; A vain, unquiet, glitt'ring, wretched thing. His sideboard glitter'l with imagined plate, POPE. And his proud fancy held a vast estate. TNew customs, SWIFCT. Though they be never so ridiculous, My own breath still foments the fire, Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. SHAKSPEARE. Which flames as high as fancy can aspire. WALLER. All with one consent praise new-born gawds. Though they are made and moulded of thilgs past. FAS H IO N. SHAKSPEARE. Fashion,-a word which knaves and fools may Because I cannot flatter and look fair, use Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, Their knavery and folly to excuse. I must be held a rancorous enemy. CHURCHILL. SHAKSPEARE. Fashion, leader of a chatt'ring train, Report of fashions in proud Italy; Whom man for his own hurt permits to reign, Whose manners ill our tardy apish nation Who shifts and changes all things but his shape, Limps after, in base awkward imitation. And would degrade her vot'ry to an ape. SHAISPEARE. COWPER. When tyrant custom had not shackled man, And sooner may a gulling weather-spy, But free to follow nature was the mode. By drawing forth heav'n's scheme, tell certainly THOMSON. What fashion'd hats, or ruffs, or suits, next year The loud daw, his throat displaying, draws Our giddy-headed antic youth will wear. The whole assembly of his fellow daws. DONNE. WALLF.R F4AS4zION. — FA TE. I 7 Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, Think it not hard, if at so cheap a rate A fool in fashion, but a fool that's out; You can secure the constancy of fate, His passion for absurdity's so strong Whose kindness sent what does your malice seem, He cannot bear a rival in the wrong. By lesser ills the greater to redeem. Though wrong the mode, comply: more sense DRYDEN. is shown As tides at highest mark regorge the flood, In wearing others' follies than our own. YOUlNG. So fate, that could no more improve their joy, Took a malicious pleasure to destroy. Yet, not superior to her sex's cares, DRYDEN. The mode she fixes by the gown she wears; Dismiss thy fear, Of silks and china she's the last appeal: And heaven's unchanged decrees attentive hear. In these great points she leads the common weal.RYDEN. YOUNG. But God has wisely hid from human sight The dark decrees of future fate, And sown their seeds in depth of night. The hand of fate is over us, and Heaven DRYDEN. Exacts severity from all our thoughts. ADDISON. If fate be not, then what can we foresee? And how can we avoid it if it be? The hand of fate If by free will in our own paths we move, Has torn thee from me, and I must forget thee. How are we bounded by decrees above? Whether we drive, or whether we are driven, Thy downcast looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts, If ill,'tis ours; if good, the act of heaven. Tell me my fate: I ask not the success DRYDEN. My cause has found. ADDISON. Alas, what stay is there in human state? Or who can shun inevitable fate? Others will gape t' anticipate Others wbillt deigap t f an ate; The doom was written, the decree was past, The cabinet designs of fate; The c et dis to fate;e Ere the foundations of the world were cast. Apply to wizards to foresee DRY DEN. What shall, and what shall never be. BUTiLER: lztdibras. Man makes his fate according to his mind: A sacrifice to fall of state, The weak, low spirit Fortune makes her slave: Whose thread of life the fatal sisters But she's a drudge when hector'd by the brave. Did twist togethelr with its \whiskers. I If Fate weave common thread, I'll change the BUTLER: Hzidib; as. doom, And with new purple weave a nobler loom. To bear is to conquer our fate. DRYDEN. CAMPBELL. Heav'n has to all allotted, soon or late, Fate her own book mistrusted at the sight, On that side war, onthisSome lucky revolutions of their fate. On that side war, on this a single fight. DRYDEN. COWLEY. The slipp'ry tops of human state, Eternal deities, The gilded pinnacles of fate. - Who rule the world with absolute decrees, COWLEY. And write whatever time shall bring to pass, Fate steals alon with ceaseless tread, With pens of adamant on plates of brass. Fate steals along with ceaseless tread, DRYDEN. DRYDEN. And meets us oft when least we dread; Frowns in the storm with threatening brow, Fully ripe, his swelling fate breaks out, Yet in the sunshine strikes the blow. And hurries him to mighty mischiefs on. COWPER. DRYDEN. The Fates but only spin the coarser clue; These are the realms of unrelenting fate; The finest of the wool is left for you. And awful Rhadamanthus rules the state! DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 12 178 FA TE. If, said he, Hear himself repine Your grief alone is hard captivity, At fate's unequal laws; and at the clue For love of heav'n with patience undergo Which merciless in length the midmost sister A cureless ill, since fate will have it so. drew. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Fate and the dooming gods are deaf to tears. Like fawning courtieis, for success they wait, DRYDEN. And then come smiling, and declare for fate. DRYDEN. I meant to meet Iy fate with face unmoved and eyes unwet. Fate makes you deaf, while I in vain implore: DRYDEN. My fate forebodes I ne'er shall see you more. DRYDEN. Whate'er betides, by destiny'tis done; Each to his proper fortune stand or faill; And better bear like men than vainly seek to Equal and unconcern'd I look on all: DRYDEN. Rutilians, Trojans, are the same to me, And both shall draw the lots their fate decree. Our guardian angel saw them where they sate DRYDEN. Above the palace of our slumb'ring king; He sigh'd, abandoning his charge to fate. Death never won a stake with greater toil, DRYDEN. Nor e'er was fate so near a foil. DRYDEN. How have I fear'd your fate! but fear'd it most Unwilling I forsook your filendly state, When love assail'd you on the Libyan coast. Commanded by the gods, and forced by fate. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Fate has cramm'd us all into one lease, What port can such a pilot find', And that even now expiring. Who in the night of fate must blindly steer. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Must I new bars to my own joy create? Himself to be the man the fates require, Refuse myself what I had forced from fate? I firmly judge, and what I judge desire, DRYDEN. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. You must obey me soon or late:'Why will you vainly struggle with your fate? Why still the brave bold man is fortunate. DRYDIEN. DRYDEN.'With fates averse, the rout in arms resort'Tis fate that flings the dice; and as she flings,'To force their monarch, and insult the court. Of kings makes peasants, and of peasants kiings. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. What if I please to lengthen out his date How easy'tis, when destiny proves kind, A day, and take a pride to cozen fate? With full-spread sails to run before the wind; DRYDEN. But they who'gainst stiff gales laveering go, Must be at once resolved and skilful too.'We follow fate, which does too fast pursue. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. An ancient augur, skill'd in future fate, Before our farther 5ray the fates allow, ere ut the With these foreboding words restrains their hate.. Here must we fix on high the golden bough. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sing to those that hold the vital shears, Are we condemn'd by fate's unjust decree And turn the aclamantine spindle round, No more our houses and our homes to see! On which the fate of gods and men is wound. DRYDEN. MILTON. My fates permit me not from hence to fly; And life more perfect have attain'd than fate Nor he, the great comptroller of the sky. Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. DRYDEN. MILTON. FA TE. 179 Others apart sat on a hill retired, A brave man struggling in the storms of fate. In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high, POPE. Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate. Let wit he sails, her oars let wisdom lend; The helm let politic experience guide: Necessity or chance Yet cease to hope thy short-lived bark shall ride. Approach not me; and what I will is fate. Down spreading fate's unnavigable tide. MILTON. PRIOR. By fate the strength of gods The future few or more, howe'er they be, And this empyreal substance cannot fail. NWere destined erst, nor can by fate's decree MILTON. Be now cut off. PRIOR. While warmer souls command, nay, make their fate, The gods, who portion out Thy fate made thee, and forced thee to be great. The lots of princes as of private men, MOORE. Have put a bar between his hopes and empire. ROWE. Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, Such harbingers preceding still the fates, All but the page prescribed, their present state: Have heav'n and earth together demonstrated From brutes what men, from men what spirits Unto our climatures and countrymen. SHAKSPEARE. know: Or who could suffer being here below? But yet I'll mnake assurance double sure, POPE. And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live. SHAKSPEARE. This day black omens threat the brightest fair That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care; The life thou gavest me first, was lost and clone; Some dire disaster, or by force or slight; Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, But what, or where, the fates have wrapt in To my determined time thou gav'st new date. night. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. The seed of Banquo kings! Each sacred accent bears eternal weight, Rather than so, come, Fate, into the list, And each irrevocable word is fate. And champion me to the utterance. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Blind to former as to future fate, WVhat mortal knows his pre-existent state? Think you I bear the shears of destiny? POPE. -Have I commandment on the pulse of life? What time wvould spare, from steel receives its SHAKSPEARE. date; Let determined things to destiny And monuments, like men, submit to fate. Hold unbewail'd their way. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Witlh bleating hearts the dire event they wait, Fate,. show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; Anxious and tlemlbling for the birth of fate. What is decreed must be; and be this so. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. O tshou, who freest me from my doubtful state, What fates impose, that men must needs abide; Long lost and wviller'd in the maze of fate! It boots not to resist both wind and tide. Be present still: oh goddess, in our aid SHAKSPEARE. Proceed, and'firm those omens thou hast made. Fates! we will know your pleasures: — POPE. That we shall die, we know;'tis but the time, Oh, thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate! And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Too soon dejected, and too soon elate! SHAKSPEARE. I, of mind elate, and scorning fear, How eagerly he flew, when Europe's fate Thus with new taunts insult the monster's ear. Did for the seed of future actions wait! POPE. GEORGE STEPNEY. ISo FEA4R. Though fear should lend him pinions like the Fear's a large promiser; who subject live wind, To that base passion, know not what they give. Yet swifter fate will seize him from behind. DRYDEN. SWIFT. ~SWIFT. ~ I felt my curdled blood Fame and censure, with a tether, By fate are always link'd together. Congeal with fear; my hair with horror stood. By fate are always link'cl together. DRYDEN. SWIFT. DRYDEN. SWIFT. Empires subversed, when ruling fate has struck My blood ran back, Th' unalterable hour. My shaking knees against each other knock'd! THOMSON. On the cold pavement down I fell entranced, And so unfinish'd left the horrid scene! DRYDEN. FEAR. Here shame dissuades him, there his fear Fear freezes minds; but love, like heat, prevails; Exhales the soul sublime to seek her native seat. And each, by turns, his aching heart assails. DRYDEN. ADDISON. While we behold such dauntless worth appear I laugh to think how your unshaken Cato In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear. Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction DRYDEN. Pours in upon him thus firom ev'ry side. His warlike mind, his soul devoid of fear, ADDISON. His high-designing thoughts were figured there. Speechless with wonder, and half dead with fear. DRYDEN. ADDISON. The more I know, the more my fears augment; Fear is an ague that forsakhes And fears are oft prophetic of th' event. And haunts by fits those whom it takes; DRYDEN. And they opine they feel the pain And blows they felt to-day, again. Let him in arms the pow'r of Turnus prove, BUTLER: HidibYras. And learn to fear whom he disdains to love. DRYDEN. His fear was greater than his haste; For fear, though fleeter than the wind, Aghast he waked; and, starting from his bed,( Believes'tis always left behind. Cold sweat in clammy drops his limbs o'erBUTLER: Iutdibras. spread. DRYDEN. Men as resolute appear With too much as too little fear; As one condemn'd to leap a precipice, And when they're out of hopes of flying, Who sees before his eyes the depth below, Will run away from death by dying; Stops short, and looks about for some kind Or turn again to stand it out, shrub And those they fled, like lions, rout. To break his dreadful fall. DRYDEN. BUTLER: Hzidibras. Like one, that on a lonesome road Th' advice was true; but fear had seized the Doth walk in fear and dread, man, And, having once turn'd round, walks on, And all good counsel is on cowards lost. And turns no more his head, DRYDEN. Because he knows a friglhtful fiend I feel my sinews slacken'd with the fright, Doth close behind him tread. Doth cloe behind him tead. And a cold sweat thrills down all o'er my limbs, COLERIDGE:;Ancient Atafiner. As if I were dissolving into water. The absent danger greater still appears; DRYDEN. Less fears he who is near the thing he fears. Fear never yet a gen'rous mind did gain; DANIEL: Clleopatra. We yield on parley, but are storm'd in vain; Alas! my fears are causeless and ungrounded, Constraint, in all things, makes the pleasure less; Fantastic dreams, and melancholy fumes. Sweet is the love which comes with willingness. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. fEAR. ISI This heard, th' imperious queen sat mute with I tell thee, life is but one common care, fear, And man was born to suffer and to fear. Nor further durst incense the gloomy thunderer. PRIOR. Silence was in the court at this rebuke: Silence was the court at this rebuke But when vain doubt and groundless fear Nor could the gods, abash'd, sustain their sow- that dear foolish bosom tear. ereign's look. PRIOR. DRYDEN. His name struck fear, his conduct won the day; Bestow, base man, thy idle threats elsewhere; He came, he saw, he seized the struggling prey. My mother's daughter knows not how to fear. RoscomilMON. DRYDEN. None knew, till guilt created fear, Who knows what adverse fortune may befall? What darts or poison'd arrows were. Arm well your mind, hope little, and fear all. ROSCOMaMON. DRYDEN. Fear is the tax that conscience pays to guilt. A thousand fears SEWELL. Still overawe when she appeals. GRAN~VILLE. Fear is the last of ills: In time we hate that which we often fear. I see the gods SHAKSPEARE. Upbraid our suff'rings, and would humble them The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, By sending these affrights, while we are here;. Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear. That we might laugh at their ridiculous fear. SHAKSPEARE. BEN JONSON: Cazilfine. A faint cold fear thrills through my veins, Let terror strike slaves mute; That almost freezes up the heat of life. Much danger makes great hearts most resolute. SHAKSPEARE. MARSTON. This is the very painting of your fear; The flaming seraph, fearless, though alone, This is the air-drawn dagger, which (you said) Encompass'd round with foes, thus answer'd Led you to Duncan. bold..S HAKSPEARE. MIL.TON. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death. Fearless of danger, like a petty god SHAISPEARE. I walk'd about admired of all, and dreaded Why, what should be the fear? On hostile ground, none daring my affront. do not set my life at a pin's fee; MILTON. And, for my soul, what can it do to that, A glorious apparition had (no doubt), Being a thing immortal? SHAKSPEARE. And carnal fear, that day, dimm'd Adam's eyes. MILTON. I am fearful: wherefore frowns he thus?'Tis an aspect of terror. All's not well. The aged earth, aghast SHAKSPEARE. *With terror of that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake. To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, MILTON. Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe. SHAKSPEARE. Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky. Possess'd with humours full of idle dreams, POPE. Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear. SHAKSPEARE. But now no face divine contentment wears; t have almost forgot the taste of fears:'Tis all blank sadness, or continual fears. POPE. The time has been my senses would have cool'd To hear a night shriek, and my fell of hair Invading fears repel my coward joy, Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir Anid ills foreseen the present bliss destroy. As life were in't. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. .182 FEAR. -FEASTS. Let me still take away the arms I fear, Some men are born to feast, and not to fight; Nor fear still to be harm'd. Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honour's field, SHAKSPEARE. Still on their dinner turn. His horrid image doth unfix my hair, JOANNA BAILLIE: Basil. And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, But'twas a public feast, and public dayAgainst the use of nature. Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and dishes cold, SHAKSPEARE. Great plenty, much formality, small cheer, You caln behold such sights, And everybody out of their own sphere. And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, BYRON. When mine is blanch'd with fear. That all-softening, overpowering knell, SHAKSPEARE. The tocsin of the soul,-the dinner-bell. BYRON. He answer'd nought at all; but adding new znlr to his first'nzaz t.to.i, Unpurchased plenty our full tables loads, Fear to his first amazement, staling wide, to h si am ets we, And part of what they lent, return'd t' our gods. With stony eyes, and heartless hollow hue, SIR. DENHAM. Astonish'd stood, as one that had espy'd Infernal furies, with their chains unty'd. All the tributes land and sea affords, SPENSER. Heap'd in great chargers, load our sumptuous As one affright boards. With hellish fiends, or furies' mad uproar, J. DENHAI. He then uprose. I was the first who set up festivals; SPENSER. Not with high tastes our appetites did force, But fillI'd with conversation and discourse; Whilst she spake, her great words did appall But fill' with conversation and discourse; My feeble courage, and my heart oppress, Which feasts, convivial meetings we did name. My feeble courage, and my heart oppress, That yet I quake and tremble over all. SIR J. DIEHAI. SPENSER.''Tis holyday; provide me better cheer:'Tis holyday; and shall be round the year: From the ground she fearless cloth alrise, th s ri, Shall I my household gods and genius cheat, And walketh forth without suspect of crime. To make him rich who grudges me my meat? SPENTSER. That he may loll at ease, and, pamper'd high, As the moon, cloathed with cloudy night, When I am laid, may feed on giblet pie? Doth show to him that walks in fear and sad DRYDEN. affright. No sideboards then with gilded plate were SPENSER. dress'd, esp ig fear, of feeble facies fll, No sweating slaves with massive dishes press'd. Desponding fear, of feeble fancies fill, DRYDEN. WVeak and unmanly, loosens ev'ry power. THOMSON. Ev'ry brow with cheerful green is crown'd; The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round. What are fears but voices airy, DRYDEN. Whispering harm where harm is not, And deluding the unwary His jolly brother, opposite in sense, Till the fatal bolt is shot? Laughs at his thrift, and, lavish of expense, WORDSWORTH. Quaffs, crams, and guttles in his own defence. DRYDEN. She's gone unkindly, and refused to cast FEASTS. One glance to feed me for so long a fast. DRYDEN. Sated with nature's boons, what thousands seek, With dishes tortured from their native taste, But such fine feeders are no guests for me; Anid mad variety, to spur beyond Riot agrees not with frugality: Its wiser will the jaded appetite! Then that unfashionable man am I, DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: With me they'd starve for want of ivory. Ar4' of P-eseirviz,' H-ealtzh. DRYDEN E'EASTS. IS3 The lady of the leaf ordain'd a feast, A maple dresser in her hall she had, And made the lady of the flow'r her guest; On which full many a slender meal she made. When lo! a bow'r ascended on the plain, DRYDEN. With sudden seats ordhin'd, and large for either Meanwhile, thy indignation yet to raise, ~train~. ~ DRY-DEN. The carver, dancing round, each dish surveys, With flying knife, and, as his art directs, Some coarse cold salad is before thee set; With proper gestures ev'ry fowl dissects. Bread with the bran, perhaps, and broken meat. DRYDEN. Fall on, and try thy appetite to eat. DRYDEN. -3 He for the feast prepared, In equal portions with the ven'son shared. No poignant sauce she knew, nor costly treat; DRYDEN. Her hunger gave a relish to her meat. DRYDEN. Now purple hangings clothe the palace walls, And sumptuous feasts are made in splendid halls. She to the palace led her guest, DRYDEN. Then offer'cl incense, and proclaim'd a feast. DRYDEN. The cook and sewer each his talent tries, In various figures scenes of dishes rise. Then with a second course the tables load, DRYDEN. And with full chargers offer to the god. DRYDEN: zEzeid. When poor Rutilius spends all his worth A feast prepared with riotous expense, TIn hopes of setting one good dinner forth,'Tis downright madness. Much cost, more care, and most magnificene.'Tis downright DRYDEN. DRYDEN. To the stage permit Not heath-pout, or the rarer bird Ragouts for Tereus or Thyestes dress'd; Which Phasis or Ionia yields, peasig or o ld', Tis task enough for thee t'expose a Roman More pleasing morsels would afford Than the fat olives of my fields. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The cday Thus the voluptuous youth, bred up to dress, Had summon'd him to due repast at noon. For his fat grandsire, some delicious mess, DRYDEN. In feeding high his tutor will surpass, An heir apparent of the gourmand race. What more than madness reigns, DRYDEN When one short sitting many hundred drains, And not enough is left him to supply Wouldst thou with mighty beef augment thy Board-wages, or a footman's livery meal, DRYDEN. Seek Leadenhall; St. James's sends thee veal. GAY. What aim'st thou at? delicious fare, And then to sun thyself in open air? Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crown'd, DRYDEN. Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks, that never fail, Content with food which nature freely bred, Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale. On wildings and on strawberries they fed: GOLDSMITH: Teu flvealer. Cornels and bramble berries gave the rest, And falling acorns furnish'd out a feast. Apicius, thou didst on thy guts bestow DRYDEN. Full ninety millions: yet, when this was spent, Ten millions still remain'd to thee; which thou, Such whose sole bliss is eating; who can give Fearing to suffer thirst and famishment, But that one brutal reason why they live. In poison'd potion drank'st. DRYDEN. HAKEWILL. There the coarse cake and homely husks of beans Not that we think us worthy such a guest, From pamp'ring riot the young stomach weans. But that your worth will dignify our feast. DRYDEN. BEN JONSON. 184 FE ASTS. No simple word Catius is ever moral, ever grave, That shall be utter'd at our mirthful board Thinks who endures a knave, is next a knave, Shall make us sad next morning. Save just at dinner, —then prefers, no doubt, BEN JONSON. A rogue with venison to a saint without. The acceptance, sir, creates POPE. The entertainment perfect, not the cates. The tables in fair order spread; BEN JONSON. Viands of various kinds allure the taste, The snow-white damask ensigns are display'd, Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast And glittering salvers on the sideboard laid. POPE. DR. WM. KING: Art of Cookery. To feastful mirth be this white hour assign'd, Such the figure of a feast, And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind. Which, were it not for plenty and for steam, POPE. Might be resembled to a sick man's dream. The chiming clocks to dinner call; DR. WM. KING: Art of Cookery. A hundred footsteps scrape the marble hall. When art and nature join, th' effect will be POIE. Some nice ragout, or charming fricasee. Is this a bridal or a friendly feast? DR. WM. KING: Art of Cookery. Or from their deeds I rightlier may divine, Unseemly flown with insolence or wine. Cornwall squab-pie, and Devon whitepot brings; POPE. POPE. And Leister beans and bacon, food of kings. DR. WM. KING: Art of Cookery. From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, And China's earth receives the smoking tide. And'tis that crowns a welcome. POPE. MASSINGER. Of all the servile herd, the worst is he I join with thee calm peace and quiet: That in proud dulness joins with quality; Spare fast, that oft the gods doth diet. A constant critic at the great man's board, MILTON. To fetch and carry nonsense for my lord. At a stately sideboard by the wine POPE. That fragrant smell diffused. MILTON. "I'm quite ashahied-'tis mighty rude He set before him spread To eat so much-but all's so good! A table of celestial food cdivine, - I have a thousand thanks to give: Ambrosial fruits, fetch'd from the tree of life; My lord alone knows how to live." And from the fount of life ambrosial drink. MILTON. Mingles with the friendly bowl He look'd, and saw the face of things quite The feast of reason and the flow of soul. changed: POPE. The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar; Your wine lock'd, All now was turn'd to jollity and game, Or fish denied: the river yet unthaw'd. To luxury and riot, feast and dance. POPE. MILTON. The nymph the table spread, His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, Ambrosial cates, with nectar roses red. And with their darkness durst affront his light. Ambrosial cates, with nectar roses red. MILTON. The plenteous board, high-heap'd with cates Up, up! cries gluttony:'tis break of day; Go drive the deer, and drag the finny prey. divine, POPE. And o'er the foaming bowl the laughing wine. POPE. Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, At once they gratify their scent and taste, Happy to catch me just at dinner-time. While frequent cups prolong the rich repast. POPE. POPE. EA S TS. I85 One half-pint bottle serves them both to dine, Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn, And is at once their vinegar and wine. And blooming peace shall ever bless thy morn. POPE. PRIOR. Wines and cates the tables grace, O wasteful riot, never well content But most the kind inviter's cheerful face. With low-prized fare; hunger ambitious POPE. Of cates by land and sea far fetcht and sent. RALEIGH. In plenty starving, tantalized in state, And complaisantly help'd to all I hate; The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then Treated, caress'd, and tired, I take my leave. We pout upon the morning, are unapt POPE. To give or to forgive; but when we've stuff'd These pipes and these conveyances of blood No turbots dignify my boards; With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls. But gudgeons, flounders,-what my Thames SHARSPEARE. affords. POPE.'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat. Let-each becalm his troubled breast, What dogs are these? Where is the rascal Wash and partake serene the friendly feast. cook? POPE. How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser, Then bids prepare the hospitable treat, And serve it thus to me that love it not? Vain shows of love to veil his felon hate. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Go to a gossip's feast, and gawd with me, The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg: After so long grief such nativity. Hard task to hit the palate of such guests. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. We may again The suitor train Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, Who crowd his palace, and with lawless pow'r Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives. His herds and flocks in feastful rites devour. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. / Here's our chief guest. If he had been forThus of your heroes and brave boys, gotten, With whom old Homer makes such noise, With whom old Homer makes such noise, It had been as a gap in our great feast. The greatest actions I can find SHAISPEARE. Are that they did their work, and dined. PRIOR. Who can cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? The meat was served, the bowls were crown'd, SHAKSPEARE. Catches were sung, and healths went round. PRIOR. Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, Keep his brain fuming; epicurean cooks The shining sideboard, and the burnish'd plate, Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite. Let other ministers, great Ann, require. SHAIKSPEARE. PRIOR. I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest. The feast was served; the bowl was crown'l; Whereto I have invited many a guest. SHAKSPEARE. To the king's pleasure went the mirthful round. PRIOR. As surfeit is the father of much fast, So ev'ry scope, by the immoderate use, Well, then, things handsomely were served; Turns to restraint. My mistress for the strangers carved. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. He shall conceal it, Matter and figuree they produce, Matter and figure they produce, Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, For garnish this, and that for use; For garnish this, and that for use; What time we will our celebration keep They seek to feed and please their guests. According to my birth. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. i 86 EA S TS. -FICLEIVESS. -FICTION. You do not give the cheer; the feast is sold Venus her myrtle, Phcebus has his bays; That is not often vouch'd, while'tis making, Tea both excels, which you vouchsafe to praise.'Tis given with welcome. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. Their various cares in one great point combine To feed were best at home; The business of their lives,-that is-to dine. From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; YOUNG: Love of TFame. Meeting were bare without it. SHAKSPEARE. Now good digestion wait on appetite, FICKLENESS. And health on both. SHAKSPEARE. The thin chameleon, fed with air, receives Were the graced person of our Banquo present, The colour of the thing to which be cleaves. Whom I may rather challenge for unkindness. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. They know how fickle common lovers are; But that our feasts Their oaths and vows are cautiously believed; In every mess have folly, and the feeders For few there are but have been once deceived. Jest with it as a custolm, I should blush DRYDEN. To see you so attired. SHAKSPEARE. A feather shooting from another's head Extracts his brains, and principle is fled. Through the hall there walked to and fro POPE. A jolly yeoman, marshal of the same, As the chameleon, which is known WVhose name was Appetite; he did bestow To have no colours of his own, Both guests and meats, whenever in they came, But borrows from his neighbour's hue, And knew them how to order without blame. His white or black, his green or blue. SPENSER. PRIOR. Thence she them brought into a stately hall, As I blow this feather from my face, Wherein were many tables fair dispred, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And ready dight with drapets feastival, And yielding to another when it blows, Against the viands should be ministred. Commanded always by the greatest gust; SPENSER. Such is the lightness of you common men. What needs me tell their feasts and goodly guise, SHAKSPEARE. In which was nothing riotous nor vain. Beware of fraud, beware of fickleness SPENSER. In choice and change of thy dear loved dame. Give no more to ev'ry guest SPENSER. Than he's able to digest; Give him always of the prime, And but little at a time. FICTION. SWIFT. Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie, Deluded mortals, whom the great Choose for compani ons tte-d-tle; And teach that truth is truest poesy. Choose for companions tete-h-tete; Who at their dinners, enfamile,COWLEY Get leave to sit whene'er you will. And novels (witness ev'ry month's Review) SWIFT. Belie their name, and offer nothing new. With British bounty in his ship he feasts COWPER:.Retiirelment. Th' Hesperian princes, his amazed guests, To find that wat'ry wilderness exceed Who would with care some happy fiction frame, The entertainment of their great Madrid. So mimics truth, it looks the very same. WALLER. GRANVILLE. Rome's holy days you tell, as if a guest Truth and fiction are so aptly mix'd With the old Romans you were wont to feast. That all seems uniform and of a piece. WALLER. ROSCOMMON. FISHES -FLA TTER Y I87 A brave romance who would exactly frame,'Tis true no turbots dignify my boards; First brings his knight from some immortal But gudgeons, flounders,-what my Thames dame. affords. WALLER. POPE. Of carps and mullets why prefer the great, FISHES. Yet for small turbots such esteem profess? POPE. Thus mean in state, and calmn in sprite, Thusimean iond istae adealminh sTo make baskets of bulrushes was my wont; My fishful pond is my delight. CAREW. Who to entrap the fish in winding sale Was better seen? Lest he should suspect it, draw it from him, Was bettNSER. As fishes do the bait, to make him follow it. SIR ~J~. DENHAM. The glittering finny swarms That heave our friths, and crowd upon our Thus at half-ebb a rolling sea shores. Returns, and wins upon the shore; THOMSON. The watery herd, affrighted at the roar, Rest on their fins awhile, and stay, FLATTERY. Then backward take their wold'ring way. DrYDEN. For praise that's due, does give no more To worlth than what it had before; The fish had long in Cmsar's pond been fed, B o commend without desert But to commend without desert And from its lord undutifully fled. DICYDEN. Requlires a mastery of art; That sets a glass on what's amiss, Would ye preserve a num'rous finny race? And says what should be, not what is. Let your fierce dogs the rav'nous otter chase; BUTLER. Th' amphibious monster ranges all the shores, Flattery, the dang'rous nurse of vice, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explsthores thewav, anGot hand upon his youth, to pleasures bent. explores. GAY. DANIEL. Each bay If we from wealth to poverty descend, With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals Want gives to know the flatt'rer from the friend. Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales DRYDEN. Glide under the green waves, in sculls that oft In this plain fable, you th' efect may see Bank the fmid sea. Of negliaence, and fond credulity; MILTON. n And learn besides of flatt'rers to beware, The sounds and seas, with all their filny drove, Then most pernicious when they speak too fair. Now to the moon in wavering mlorrice move. DRYDEN. MILTON. ZBut flattery never seems absurd: Or sporting, with quick glance, The flatter'cl always take your word; Show to the sun their waved coats, dropp'd with Impossibilities seem just, gold. They take the strongest praise on trust; MILTON. Hyperboles, though ne'er so great, Will still come short of self-conceit. All fish from sea or shore, GAY: Farbles. Freshet, or purling brook, or shell, or fin. MILTON. Who praises Lesbia's eyes and features Must call her sisters awkward creatures; Our plenteous streams a various race supply: For the kind flattery's sure to charm The bright-eyed perch, with fins of various dye; When we some other nymph-disarm. The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd;GAY: r ables. The yellow carp, in scales bedropt with gold; Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, Say, flatterer, say, all-fair deluder, speak; And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains. Answer me this, ere yet my heart does break. POPE. GRANVILLE. 1 8FA TTEER Y To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear, Averse alike to flatter or offend; To pour at will the counterfeited tear; Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend. And as her patron hints the cold or heat, POPE. To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. Leave dang'rous truths to unsuccessful satires, DR. JOHNSON: Lolndon. And flattery to fulsome dedicators. I would give worlds could I believe POPE. One-half that is profess'd me; " Dear countess! you have charms all hearts to Affection! could I think it thee, suit!" When Flattery has caress'd me. And, " Sweet Sir Fopling! you have so much Miss LANDON. wit!" Such wits and beauties are not praised for nought, The firmest purpose of a ^woman's heart For both the beauty and the wit are bought. To well-timed, artful flattery may yield. POPE. LILLO:.lmzei'ic,. Pernicious flatt'ry! thy malignant seeds, Tedious waste of time, to sit and hear In an ill hour and by a fatal hand So many hollow compliments and lies, Sadly diffused o'er virtue's gleby land, Outlandish flatteries.. With rising pride amidst the corn appear, MILTON. And choke the hopes and harvest of the year. PRIOR. No adulation;'tis the death of virtue! Who flatters is of all mankind the lowest, Secure from foolish pride's affected state, Save he who courts the flatterer. And specious flattery's more pernicious bait. HANNAH MORE: Daziel. ROscOM-MON. A huffing, shining, flatt'ring, cringing coward, Minds By nature great are conscious of their greatness, A canker-worm of peace, was raised above him. OTWAY. And hold it mean to borrow aught from flattery. ROWE: Royal Conzvet. All-potent Flattery, universal lord! Reviled, yet courted; censured, yet adored! 0, that men's ears should be How thy strong spell each human bosom draws, To counsel deaf, but not to flattery SHAKSPEARE. The very echo to our self-applause! POPE. Would I had never trod this English earth, Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! WVHten simple pride for flatt'ry llmalkes demands, SHAKSPEARE. May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands! POPE. His nature is too noble for the world; He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, A scorn of flattery, and a zeal for truth. POPE. Or Jove for's power to thunder. SHAKSPEARE. That flattery ev'n to kings he held a shame, When I tell him he hates flatterers, And thought a lie in verse or prose the same. He says he does; being then most flatter'd. POPE. SIHAKSPEARE. Awkward and supple each devoir to pay, Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd, She flatters her good lady twice a day. Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. A vile encomium doubly ridicules; Should the poor be flatter'd? There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools. No: let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, POPE. And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee No wit to flatter left of all his store; Where thrift may follow fawning. No fool to laugh at, which he valued more. SHAKISPEARE. POPE, So, when he saw his flatt'ring arts to fail, Strike a blush through frontless flattery. With greedy force he'gan the fort t' assail. POPE. SPENSER. FLA TTER Y-F L'O WERS. 189 The world that cannot deem of worthy things, The marigold, whose courtier's face When I do praise her, says I do but flatter; Echoes the sun, and doth unlace So doth the cuckoo, when the mavis sings, Her at his rise, at his full stop Begin his witness note apace to clear. Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop. SPENSER. JOHN CLEAVELAND.'Tis an old maxim in the schools Beauteous flowers why do we spread That flattery's the food of fools; Upon the monumnents of the dead? Yet now and then your men of wit COWLEY, Will condescend to take a bit. SWIFT. The tim'rous maiden blossoms on each bough I am not form'd, by flattery and praise, Peep'd forth from their first blushes; so that now By sighs and tears, and all the whining trade A thousand ruddy hopes smiled in each bud, Of love, to feed a fair one's vanity; And flatter'd ev'ry greedy eye that stood. To charm at once and spoil her. CRASHAW. THOMSON: [Tacrezj-e aezar Soziisnzuntat. Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall, See how they beg an alms of flattery! Which seem sweet flow'rs, with lustre fresh They languish; 0! support them with a lie.'and gay, YOUNG. She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all, Flatter'd crimes of a licentious age But, pleased with none, doth rise, and soar Provoke our censure. away. lYOUNG. SIR J. DAVIES The flowers which it had press'd FLOWERS. Appeared to my view Molre fresh and lovely than the rest E'en the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom, Z!,^~~~~, That in the meadows grew. And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume. SIR J. DENHAM, ADDISON. There the ever-blooming roses A single violet transplant: Everlasting spring bestow, The strength, the colour, and the size, There the snow-white lilies glisten All which before was poor and scant, With'the saffron's ruddy glow. Redoubles still and multiplies. ST. AUGUSTINE: Hymn. Not Eastern monarchs, on their nuptial day, The wealthy spring yet never bore In dazzling gold and purple shine so gay, That sweet nor dainty flow'r, As the bright natives of the unlabour'd field, That damask'd not the checker'd floor Unversed in spinning, and in looms unskill'd. Of Cynthia's summer bow'r. SIR R. BLACKMORE. DRAYTON. Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r. I on a fountain light BURNS: To ca Monozin Daisy. Whose brim with pinks was platted; Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, tis true; The bank with daffodillies dight, With grass-like sleave was matted. Yet, wildings of nature, I dote upon you; With grass-lie sleave was tted. For ye waft me to summers of old, DRAYTON. When the earth teem'd around me with fairy The rose is fragrant, but it fades in time, delight, The violet sweet, but quickly past the prime; And when daisies and buttercups gladdeii'd my White lilies hang their heads, and soon decay; sight, And whiter snow in minutes melts away. Like treasures of silver and gold. DRYDEN. CAMPBELL. Can flow'rs but droop in absence of the sun The flowers, call'd out of their beds, Which waked their sweets? and mine, alas! is Start and raise up their drowsy heads, gone. JOHN CLEAVELAND. DRYDEN. 90o E O WERS. No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb Yet ere to-morrow's sun shall show his head, The steepy cliffs, or crop the flow'ry thyme. The dery paths of meadows we will tread DRYDEN. For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy bed. With greens and flow'rs recruit their empty DRYDEN. hives, Flow'rs are strew'd, and lamps in order placed, And seek fresh forage to sustain their lives. And windows with illuminations graced. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. You range the pathless wood, The flow'r which lasts for little space, While on a flow'ry bank he chews the cud. A short-lived good, and an uncertain grace. DRvDEN. I)~~X~~~~~DRYDEN. Set rows of rosemary with floRw'ring stem, Arcadia's flow'ry plains and pleasing floods. And let the purple violets drink the stream. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sycamore with eglantine were spread, Mark well the flow'ring almonds in the wood, A hedge about the sides, a covering overhead. If od'rous blooms the bearing branches load. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Then party-colour'd flow'rs of white and red Then laughs the childish year with flow'rets She wove, to make a garland for her head. crown'd, DRYDEN. And lavishly perfumes the fields around; An set st hyacinths with iron-blue But no substantial nourishment receives; To shade marsh-mlfarigolds of shining hue. Infirm the stalk, unsolid are the leaves. DRYDEN.DRYDEN. A tuft of daisies on a flowery lay And where the vales with violets once were They saw, and thitherward they bent their way. crOWn cl, DRYDEN. Now knotty burs and thorns disgrace the ground. Then droop'd the fading flow'rs their beauty DRYDEI~N. Then droop'd the fading flow'rs, their beauty DRYDEN. fled, For thee the groves green liv'ries wear, And closed their sickly eyes and hung the head, For thee the Graces lead the dancing Hours, And rivel'd up with heat, lay dying in their bed. And Nature's ready pencil paints the flow'rs. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A flow'r in meadow ground, amellus call'd; And from one root thy rising stem bestows The daughters of the flood have search'd the Ad from one root thy rising stem bestows A world of leaves. mead DRYDEN. For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppy's head; The flow'rs unsown in fields and meadows The flow'rs unsown in fields and meadows The short narcissus, and fair daffodil, Pansies to please the sight, and cassia sweet to smell. ~ ~And western winds immortal spring maintain'd. smell. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Farewell, you flow'rs, whose buds with early care Nature not bounteous now, but lavish g'Ows, I wMatch'dcl, and to the cheerful sun did rear: Our paths with flow'rs she prodigally strows. Who now shall bind your stems? or, when you DRYDEN. fall, fall, The fresh eglantine exhaled a breath With fountain streams your fainting souls recall? Whose odours were of pow'r to raise from death. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. ArOUAd him dance the rosy Hours, And, damasking the ground with flow'rs, Fair as the face of nature did appear, With ambient sweets perfume the morn. When flowers first peep'd, and trees did blossoms FENTON. bear, And winter had not yet deform'd th' inverted For Blouzelinda, blithesome maid, is dead! year. DRYDEN.GAY. FL O TWERS.9 I Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows; Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows. One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, GAY. When he call'd the flowers, so blue and golden, Fair is the gillyflow'r of gardens sweet, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet. LONGFELLOW: Flowers. GAY. Let no sheep there play, Let weeds, instead of butter flow'rs, appear; Nor frisking kids the flowery meadows lay. And meads, instead of daisies, hemlock bear. THOMAS MAY. I GAY. Day's harbinger Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn. The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws GOLDSMITH: Deserted Viagfe. The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Her cheeks grow the brighter, recruiting their MILTON. colour; Then herbs of every leaf that sudden flower'd, As flowers by sprinkling revive with fresh odour. Op'ning their various colours. GRANVILLE. MILTON. Some plants the sunshine ask, and some the My mother Circe, with the syrens three, shade; A Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades. At night the nure trees spread, but check their MILTON. MILTON. bloom To the sylvan lodge At morn, and lose their verdure and perfume.To the sylvan lodge They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled, WALTER HARTE. With flow'rets deck'd, and fragrant smells. Pulse of all kinds diffused their od'rous pow'rs, MIL'ON. Where nature pencils butterflies on flow'rs. Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, WTALTER HARTE. And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,'Twas a lovelythought tomarh, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. As they floated in light away, MILTON. By the opening and the folding flow'rs They sat recline That laugh to the summer's day. On the soft downy bank, damask'd with flow'rs. MRS. HEMANS. MILrON Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: It fed flow'rs worthy of paradise, which not As yet the early-rising sun nice art Has not attain'd his noon. In beds and curious knots, but nature boon, HERRICK. Pour'd forth profuse on hill and dale and plain. God might have bade the earth bring forth MILTON. Enough for great and small, Under foot the violet, The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay Without a flower at all; Broider'd the ground. He might have made enough-enough MILTON. For every want of ours, Iris there, with humid bow, For luxury, medicine, and toil, Waters the odorous banks that blow And yet have made no flowers. Flowers of more mingled hue MARY HOWITT. Than her purpled scarf can show. Have you seen but a bright lily grow, MILTON. Before rude hands have touch'd it? Flow'rs of all hue, and without thorn the rose. BEN JONSON. MILTON. Bring flowers to crown the cup and lute,- Whilst from off the waters fleet Bring flowers —the bride is near; Thus I set my printless feet Bring flowers to soothe the captive's cell, O'er the cowslip's velvet head, Bring flowers to strew the bier! That bends not as I tread. Miss LANDON. MILTON. 9 2 FL 0 WE'RS. So have I seen some tender slip, Meadows trim with daisies pied, Saved with care from winter's nip, Shallow brooks and rivers wide. The pride of her carnation train, MILTON. Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain. Beyond MILTON. MILTON. The ow'ry dale of Sibma, clad with vine. Stooping to support each flow'r of tender stalk. MILTON. MITON. I sat me down to watch upon a bank Who now shall rear you to the sun, or rank With ivy canopied, and interwove Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount? With flaunting honeysuckle. MILTON. MILTON. Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. O flow'rs MILTON. That neither will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last And all my plants i save from nightly ill At ev'n, which I bred up with tender hand Of noisome winds and blasting vapours chill. From the first opening bud. MILTON. MILTON. MILTON. on flow'ry arbours, yonder alleys green. On a green shady bank profuse of flow'rs, MILTON. Pensive I sat. See daisies open, rivers run. MILTON. PARNELL. Flow'wr i Look how the purple flower, which the plough Carlnation, purple, azure, or speck'I with gold. Hath shorn in sunder, languishing doth die. WMILTON. PEACHAM. Thley at her coming sprung, In Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And touch'd by her fair tendance gladlier grew. And they tell in a garland their loves and MILTON. cares; On flow'rs reposed, and with rich flow'rets Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers crownl'd On its leaves a mystic language bears. J. G. PERCIVAL. They eat, they drink, and, in communion sweet, Quaff immortality and joy. Thy little sons MILTON. Permit to range the pastures; gladly they Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, Will mow the cowslip posies, faintly sweet. That on the green turf suck the honied show'rs, JOHN PHILIPS. And purple all the ground with vernal flow'rs. Where solar beams MILTON. Parch thirsty human veins, the clamask'd meads Unforced display ten thousand painted flow'rs, He only thought to crop the flow'r Useful in potables. New shot up from a vernal shomw'r. UOHu PpILIPS. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse, Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, T And soft carnations shower their balmy dews; The tufted crow-toe, anid pale jessamine. Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white, The thin undress of superficial light; Each beauteous flow'r, And varied tulips show so dazzling gay, Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine, Blushing in bright diversities of day. Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and. wrought Fair from its humble bed I rear'd this flow'r, Mosaic. MILTON. Suckled and cheer'd with air, and sun, and He now is come show'r; Into the blissful field, thro' groves of myrrh, Soft on the paper ruff its leaves I spread, And flow'ring odours, cassia, nard, and balm. Bright with the gilded button tipt its head. MILTON. POPE. FL; O WERS. 193 Tell me in what more happy fields Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring; The thistle springs to which the lily yields. Now leaves the trees, and flow'rs adorn the POPE. ground. I come, ye ghosts! prepare your roseate bow'rs,POPE. Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs, The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom, POPE. Rival'd the hyacinth in vernal bloom. POPE. See where on earth the flow'ry glories lie With her they flourish'd, and with her they die. A fairer red stands blushing in the rose PoPE. Than that which on thle bridegroom's vestment Now sliding streams the thirsty plants renew, flows Z-3>~~~~~, Take but the humblest lily of the field, And feed their fibres with reviving dew. POPE. And, if our pride will to our reason yield, It must, by sure comparison, be shown With chymic art exalts the min'ral pow'rs, That on the regal seat great David's son, And draws the aromatic souls of flows'rs.Array'd i all his roes and types of pow'r, Array'd in all his robes and types of pow'r, POPE. Shines with less glory than that simple flow'r. To isles of fragrance, lily-silver'd vales, PRIOR. Diffusing languor in the parting gales. Ten thousand stalks their various blossoms POPE. spread -; And four fair queens, whose hands sustain a Peaceful and lowly in their native soil, Th'exprflowessiveemhl, ofthirsote pw'. They neither know to spin, nor care to toil. Th' expressive emblem of their softer pow'r. PRIOR. POPE. Why does one climate and one soil endue Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs shall'riseThe blushing poppy with a crimson hue, And-all things flourish where you turn your Yet leave the lily pale, and tinge the violet blue? And all things flourish where you turn your PRIOR. eyes. POPE. While the fantastic tulip strives to break Her gods and godlike heroes rise to view, In twofold beauty, and a parted streak. And all her faded garlands bloom anew. PRIOR. POPE. Where the old myrtle her good influence sheds, See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise, Sprigs of like leaf erect their filial heads; And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the skies! And when the parent rose decays and dies, POPE. With a resembling face the daughter buds arise.. Once I was skill'd in ev'ry herb that grew PRIOo And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew. Let one great day POPE. To celebrated sports and floral play No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field, Be set aside. Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield. PRIOR. POIE. When you the flow'rs for Chloe twine, For her the limes their pleasing shades deny, Why do you to her garland join For her the lilies hang their heads, and die. The meanest bud that falls from mine? POPE. PRIOR. See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd; The twining jessamine and blushing rose Here blushing Flora paints th' enamell'd ground. With lavish grace their morning scents disclose. POPE. PRIOR. A wild, where weeds and flow'rs promiscuous Flow'rs shoot. Innumerable, by the soft south-west POPE. Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands, Like some fair flow'r, that early spring supplies, Rebound their sweets from th' odoriferous That gayly blooms, but ev'n in blooming dies. pavement. POPE. PRIOR,'3 194.FE O WERS. Array'd in ephods; nor so few Bid her steal into the pleached bower, As are those pearls of morning dew WVhere honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Which hang on herbs and flowers. Forbid the sun to enter; like to favourites SANDYS. Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against the power that bred it. O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet South, SHAKSPEARE. That breathes upon a bank of violets, The cowslips tall her pensioners be; Stealing and giving odours. S~eligan iv.ISHSPEA n their gold coats spots you see: SHAKSPEARE. Those be rubies, fairy favours; Pale primroses, In those fireckles live their savours. That die unmarried ere they can behold SHAKSPEARE. Bright Phoebus in his strength. SHAKSPEARE. The same dew, which sometimes on the buds Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls, They are as gentle Stood now within the pretty flow'rets' eyes, As zephyrs blowing below the violet. Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The even mead that erst brought sweetly forth'The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover. The freckled cowslip. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Good men's lives The canker galls the infants of the spring, Expire before the flowers in their caps, Too oft before their buttons be disclosed. Dying or ere they sicken. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE.:I must go seek some dew-drops here, Thou shalt not lack And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. The flow'r that's like thy face, pale primrose; SHAKSPEARE. nor The azured harebell, like thy veins.'The fairest flowers o' th' season SHAKSPEARE. Are our carnations and streak'd gillyflowers. SHAKSPEARE. The bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower; When daisies pied, and violets blue, Before milkwhite, now purple with love's wound; And lady-smocks all silver white, And maidens call it, love-in-idleness. And cuckoo buds of yellqw hue, SHAKSPEARE. Do paint the meadows with delight. SHAKSPEARE. All the budding honours on thy crest I'll crop, to make a garland for my head. Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, SHAKSPEARE. With whose sweet smell the air shall be Where the bee sucks, there suck I; perfumed. SIIAKSPEARE In a cowslip's bell I lie. SSHASPEARE. Flow'rs, purple, blue, and white, Within the infant rind of this small flow'r Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery Poison bath residence, and medicine powr. Poison hath residence, and medicine pow'r. Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Or so much as it needs The leaf of eglantine, which not to slander, To dew the sovereign flow'rs, and drown the Out-sweeten'd not thy breath, weeds. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. A bank whereon the wild thyme blows, The paleness of this flow'r Where oxlip and the nodding violet grows. Bewra3r'd the faintness of my master's heart. SHAKSPEARE.SHAIASPEARE FL O WERS. I 95 Daffodils that come before the swallow dares, With store of vermeil roses and take To deck the bridegroom's posies. The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, SPENSER. But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Of every sort which in that meadow grew Or Cytherea's breath. They gather'd some; the violet pallid blue. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. Were I, O God, in churchless lands remaining, A little wicker basket, Far from all voice of teachers or divines, Made of fine twigs, entrailed curiously, My soul would find, in flowers of thy ordaining, In which they gather'd flowers. Priests, sermons, shrines! SPENSER. HORACE SMI'H: Hyman to the Flowers. As through the flow'ring forest rash she fled, Cool violets, and orpine growing still, In her rude hairs sweet flowers themselves did Embathed balm, and cheerful galingale, lap, Fresh costmary, and breathful chamomile, And flourishing fi-esh leaves and blossoms did Dull poppy, and drink-quick'ning setuale. enwrap. SPENSER. For fear the stones h my flower t ender foot should wrong, So forth they marched in this goodly sort, With gaudThey roulands, he strew' with flowers adight, along, To tak her solace of the open air, And diaper'd like the discolour'd mead. And in fresh flow'ring fields themselves to sport. PENSER. -SPENSER. See thou how fresh my flowers being spread, Sometimes her head she fondly would aguise Dyed in lille white and crimson red, With gaudy garlands, of fresh flow'rets dight, With leaves engrain'd in lusty green. About her neck, or rings of rushes plight. SPENSER.~~~SPENSER. Lilies more white than snow Show me the green grotund with claffodolwn- New fall'n from heav'n, with violets, mix'd, did dillies, grow; And cowslips, and kingcups, and loved lilies. Vhose scent so chafed the neighbour air, that SPENSER. you All within with flow'rs was garnished, Would surely swear Arabic spices grew. That, when mild Zephyrus amongst them blew, SIR J. SUCKLING. Did breathe out bounteous smells, and painted So chymists boast they have a pow'r, colours shew.From the dead ashes of a flow'r SPENSER. Some faint resemblance to produce, It feeds each living plant with liquid sap, But not the virtue. SWIFT. And fills with flow'rs fair Flora's painted lap. SPENSER. Nor gradual bloom is wanting, Nor hyacinths of purest virgin white, Where be the nosegays that she dight for thee? o nt Low bent and blushing inward; nor jonquilles The colour'd chaplets wrought with a chief,fragrance. The knottish rush-rings, and gilt rosemary? THOMSON. SPENSER. Another Flora there, of bolder, hues, Eftsoons the nymphs, which now had flowers Plays o'er the field, and show'rs with sudden their fill, hand Run all in haste to see that silver brood. Exuberant spring. THOMSON. SPENSER. No gradual bloom is wanting from the bud, In secret shadow from the sunny ray, Nor broad carnations, nor gay spotted pinks, On a sweet bed of lilies softly laid. Nor, shower'd from ev'rybush, the damask rose. SPENSER. THOMSON. He only fair, and what he fair hath made; The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, All other fair, like flow'rs, untimely fade. And polyanthus of unnumber'd dyes. SPENSER. THOMSON. I96 E O WERS. — FOLL Y. —FO OLS. And while they break Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease, On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks Whom folly pleases, or whose follies please. With secret pride the wonders of his hand. POPE. THOMSON. Pleads, in exception to all gen'ral rules, The little shape, by magic pow'r, Your taste of follies with our scorn of fools. Grew less and less, contracted to a flow'r; POPE. A flow'r, that first in this sweet garden smiled, Others the siren sisters compass round, To virgins sacred, and the snowdrop styled. And empty heads console with empty sound. TICKELL. POPE. So some weak shoot which else would poorly Nor think to-night of thy ill-nature, rise, But of thy follies, idle creature. Jove's tree adopts, and lifts into the skies; PRIOR. Through the new pupil fost'ring juices flow, Too many giddy foolish hours are gone, Thrust forth the gems, and give the flowers to And in fantastic measures danced away. blow. ROWE. TICKELL. Thus in a sea of folly toss'd, This night shall see the gaudy wreath decline, My choicest hours of life are lost. SWIFT. The roses wither, and the lilies pine. TICKELL. Their passions move in lower spheres, Where'er caprice or folly steers. Sees not my love how time resumes SWIFT. The glory which he lent these flow'rs? Though none should taste of their perfumes, FOOLS Yet must they live but some few hours: Time what we forbear devours. Of fools the world has such a store, WALLER. That he who would not see an ass, Must bide at home, and bolt his door, Fade, flowers, fade; nature will have it so; b h And break his lookling-glass.'Tis but what we must in our autumn do. BOILEAU. WALLER. A fool must now and then be right by chance. To me the meanest flower that blows can give - COWPER. Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Fools ambitiously contend WORDSWORTH. For wit and pow'r; their last endeavours bend A violet by a mossy stone T' outshine each other. Half hidden from the eye: DRYDEN. Fair as a star when only one A fool might once himself alone expose; Is shining in the sky. Now one in verse makes many more in prose. WORDSWORTH: Lucy. POPE. You violets, that first appear, No creature smarts so little as a fool. By your pure purple mantles known; POPE: Epistle to D%'. Ai-buthnot. NWhat are you wheen the rose is blown? For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. WOTTON.POPE. We smile at florists, we despise their joy, When I did hear And think their hearts enamour'd of a toy. The motley fool thus moral on the time, YOUNG. My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep contemplative. SHAKSPEARE. FOLLY. This your all-licensed fool Whose follies, blazed about, to all are known, Doth hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth And are a secret to himself alone. In rank and not to be endured riots. GRANVILLE. SHAKSPEARE. FOPS. — FOREKNO WLED GE. — FORE ORDIA TIONV. I97 This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; Sir Plume (of amber snuff-box justly vain, And to do that well craves a kind of wit. And the nice conduct of a clouded cane), SHAKSPEARE. With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, What nature has denied, fools will pursue; He first the snuff-box open'd, then the case. As apes are ever walking upon two. POPE: Rae of the Lock. YOUNG. Why round our coaches crowd the white-gloved Yet proud of parts, with prudence some dispense, beaux? And play the fool because they're men of sense. POPE. YOUNG: Ajpistle to PoFpe. No place so sacred from such fops is barr'd; Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, Nor is Paul's church more safe than Paul's A fool in fashion, but a fool that's out; church-yard. His passion for absurdity's so strong POPE He cannot bear a rival in the wrong. You laugh, half beau, half sloven, if I stand; Though wrong the mode, comply: more sense My wig half powder, and all snuff my band. is shown POPE. In wearing others' follies than our own, YOUNG. Some positive persisting fops we know, Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so; Be wise with speed; But you with pleasure own your errors past, A fool at forty is a fool indeed. And make each day a critique on the last. YOUNG: Love of Fame.E.'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool,'Tis notd in folly not to scorn a fool, Their methods various, but alike their aim; And scarce in human wisdom to do more. The sloven and the fopling are the same. YOUNG: N t Thougts. YOUNG. YOUNG. ~Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die! YOUNG: Ni6hkt Thogoug/Zs. FOREKNOWLEDGE. Calchas, the sacred seer, who had in view FOPS. Things present and the past, and things to come He had that grace, so rare in every clime, foreknew. Of being, without alloy of fop or beau, A finish'd gentleman, from top to toe. Who would the miseries of man foreknow! BYRON. Not knowing, we but share our part of woe. The solemn fop; significant and budge; DRYDEN. A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge; If I foreknew, He says but little, and that little said Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead. Which had no less proved certain unforeklonn. COWPER. MILTON. Besides, thou art a beau: What's that, my child? A fop well drest, extravagant, and wild: FOREOIRDINATION. She that cries herbs has less impertinence, Fate foredoom'd, and all things tend And in her calling more of common sense. By course of time to their appointed end. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. His various modes fiom various fathers follow; The willing metal will obey thy hand, One taught the toss, and one the new French Following with ease: if favour by thy fate, Following with ease: if favour'd by thy fate, wallow; Thou art foredoom'd to view the Stygian state. His sword-knot this, his cravat that design'd. DRYDEN. Nature made ev'ry fop to plague his brother, Through various hazards and events we move Just as one beauty mortifies another. To Latium, and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. POPE. DRYDEN. I98 FORESTS. And whatso heavens in their secret doom A venerable wood, Ordained have, how can frail fleshy wight Where rites divine were paid, whose holy hair Forecast, but it must needs to issue come? Was kept and cut with superstitious care. SPENSER. DRYDEIN. Soft whispers run along the leafy woods, And mountains whistle to the murm'ring floods. DRYDEN. FORESTS. Black with surrounding forests then it stood Ah, cruel creature, whom lost thou despise? That hung above, and ar'd all the flood. The gods, to live in woods, have left the skies. That hung above, and darken'd all the flood.,YE ADDISON. He hears the crackling sounds of coral woods, Full in the centre of the sacred wood And sees the secret source of subterranean An arm ariseth of the Stygian flood, floods. DRYDEN. ADDISON. The birds obscene to forests wing'd their flight View the wide earth adorn'd with hills and DRYDEN. woods, For them the IdumLean balm did sweat, Rich in her herbs, and fertile by her floods. And in hot Ceilon spicy forests grew. STR R. BLACKMORE. ^ DRYDEN. Then would be seen a farmer that would sell Straight as a line, in beauteous order stood Bargains of woods, which he did lately fell. Of oaks unshorn a venerable wood; CHAUCER. Fresh was the grass beneath, and ev'ry tree At distance planted, in a due degree, A new-born wood of various lines there grows, Their branching arms in air, with equal space, And all the flourishing letters stand in rows. Stretch'd to their neighbours with a long emCOWLEY. brace. DRYDEN. While the steep horrid roughness of the wood Then toils for beasts, and lime for birds were Strives with the gentle calmness of the flood. found, SIR JOHN DENHA.M. And deep-mouth'd dogs did forest walks surThe plain the forests doth disdain: round. DRYDEN. The forests rail upon the plain. DRAYTON. The grottoes cool, with shady poplars crown'd, And creeping vines on arbours weaved around. There stood a forest on the mountain's brow, DRYDEN. Which overlook'd the shaded plains below; No sounding axe presumed these trees to bite, Deep into some thick covert would I run, Coeval with the world; a venerable sight. Impenetrable to the stars or sun. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Black was the forest, thick with beech it stood, O may thy pow'r, propitious still to me, Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn; Conduct my steps to find the fatal tree, Few paths of human feet or tracks of beasts In this deep forest. were worn. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The waving harvest bends beneath his blast, Hills, dales, and forests far behind remain, The forest shakes, the groves their honours cast. While the rarm scent draws on the deepDRYDEN. mouth'd train. GAY. Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw, Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bow'rs, Whom from the shore the surly boatman saw, Where flows the murm'ring brook, inviting Observed their passage through the shady wood, dreams, And marked their approaches to the flood. Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams. DRYDEN. GAY. FORESTS. I99 All things decay with time; the forest sees See lofty Lebanon his head advance, The growth and downfall of her aged trees: See nodding forests on the mountains dance. That timber tall, which threescore lustres stood POPE. The proud dictator of the state-like wood- From whence high Ithaca oerlooks the floods, I mean the sov'reign of all plants, the oak- Brown with o'erarching shades and pendent Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's woods. stroke. HERRICK.POPE. I know each lane, and every alley green, Amid an isle around whose rocky shore Dingle or bushy dell of this wild wood; The forests murmur, and the surges roar, And every busky bourn from side to side, A goddess guards in her enchanted dome. My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood. POPE. MILTON. But he deep-musing o'er the mountain stray'd, Where the rude ax, with heaved stroke, Through many thickets of the woodland shade. Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, POPE. Or frown them from their hallow'd haunt. My humble muse in unambitious strains MILTON. Paints the green forests and the flow'ry plains. He led me up POPE. A woody mountain, whose high top was plain,The wood, A circuit wide, enclosed. MILTON Whose shady horrors on a rising brow shall be your faithful guide Waved high, and frown'd upon the stream I shall be your faithful guide be1 Through this gloomy covert wide. POPE. MILTON. For thee Idume's spicy forests blow, Forbidding ev'ry bleak unkindly fog For thee Idume's spicy forests blow, e bleak unkidl fogAnd seeds of gold in Olhir's mountains glow. To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. And seeds of gold in Ohir's mountains glo. POPE. MILTON. Their way Up starts a palace; lo! th' obedient base Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear Slopes at its foot, the woods its sides embrace. wood, POPE. The nodding horror of whose shady brows 0 deign to visit our forsaken seats, Threats the forlorn and wand'ring passenger. The mossy fountains and the green retreats. MILTON. POPE. A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend, Thick as autumnal leaves, or driving sand, Shade above shade, a woody theatre. The moving squadrons blacken all the strand. MILTON. POPE. Fresh gales and gentle airs In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, Whisper'd it to the woods; and from their wings And floating forests paint the waves with green. Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, POPE. Disporting. Whose rising forests, not for pride or show, But future buildings, future navies, grow: With high woods the hills were crown'd; Let his plantation stretch from down to down, With tufts the valleys, and each fountain side First shade a country, and then raise a town. With borders'long the rivers. POPE. MILTON. Forests grew Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks Upon the barren hollows, high o'ershading In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades The haunts of savage beasts. High overarch'd imbower. PRIOR. MILTON. Who set the twigs, shall he remember Thy forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats That is in haste to sell the timber? Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan maids And what shall of thy woods remain, Unlock your springs, and open all your shades. Except the box that threw the main? POPE. PRIOR. 200 FORESTS. -FOR GE TEUZLNESS. The frequent errors of the pathless wood, Majestic woods of ev'ry vigorous green, The giddy precipice, and the dang'rous flood. Stage above stage, high waving o'er the hills, PRIOR. Or to the far horizon wide diffused, Pacing through the forest, A boundless deep immensity of shade. Chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy. THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE. Through forests huge, and long unravell'd heaths, Of all these bounds, With desolation brown, he wanders waste. With shadowy forests and with champaigns THoWaSoN. rich'd, We make thee lady. Strain'd to the root, the stooping forest pours SHAKSPEARE. A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves. THOMSON. Tow'rds him I made; but he was'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood. Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheds SHAKSPEARE. What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain. THOMSON. This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 1 better brook than flourishing peopled towns. Gradual sinks the breeze SHAKSPEARE. Into a perfect calm; that not a breath Is heard to quiver through the closing wood. Whate'er you are, That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Her forests huge, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time. Incult, robust, and tall, by nature's hand SHARSPEARE. Planted of old. THOMSON. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods To him who muses through the woods at noon. More free from peril than the court? THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE. Strip from the branching Alps their piny load, The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind, The huge encumbrance of horrific woods. And make a checkeri d shadow on -the ground. THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood, FORGETFULNESS. Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your But when a thousand rolling years are past,strength, So long their punishments and penance last,Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night. Whole droves of minds are by the driving god SHAKSPEARE. Compell'd to drink the deep Lethean flood, As I did stand my watch upon the hill, In large forgetful draughts to steep the cares I look'd toward 1Birnam; and anon methought Of their past labours and their irksome years. The wood began to move. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls His wat'ry labyrinth, which whoso drinks It irks me, the poor dappled fools, Forgets both joy and grief. Being native burghers of this desert city, MILTON. Should, in their own confines, with forked heads Have their ronnd haunches gored. Alive, ridiculous; and dead, forgot. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Unequal task! a passion to resign, I teach the woods and waters to lament For hearts so touch'd, so pierced, so lost as mine! Your doleful dreariment. Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, SPENSER: fE;jpia~azmiumn. How often must it love, how often hate, As fair Diana, in fresh summer's day, How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Beholds her nymphs enranged in shady wood. Conceal, disdain-do all things but forget! SPENSER: Fairie Queene. POPE: Eloisa. FOR GIVENEISS. FOR TITUDE. 201 Of all affliction taught a lover yet, Good nature and good sense must ever join:'Tis sure the hardest science to forget! To err is human; to forgive, divine. POPE: Eloisa. POPE. Slowly provoked, she easily forgives. When I am forgotten, as I shall be, PIOR. And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention If ever any malice in your heart Of me must more be heard. - Were hid against me, now forgive me frankly. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. That is not forgot'Tis easier for the generous to forgive Which ne'er I did remember; to my knowl-Than for offence to ask it. edge, THOMSON: Ewzard and Eleonora. edge, I never in my life did look on him. SHAKSPEARE. FORTITUDE. True fortitude is seen in great exploits FORGIVENESS. That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides: All else is tow'ring fienzy and distraction. Gently I took that which ungently came, ADDISON. And without scorn forgave: do thou the same. With what strength, what steadiness of mind, A wrong done to thee think a cat's-eye spark He triumphs in the midst of all his sufferings! Thou wouldst not see were not thine own heart ADDISON. dark. ~COLERIDGE. Let fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Forgiveness to the injured does belong; Can take in all, and verge enough for more. But they ne'er pardon, who commit the wrong. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. I, not by wants, or fears, or age opprest, Pity and he are one; Stem the wild torrent with a dauntless breast. So merciful a king did never live, DRYDEN. Loth to revenge, and easy to forgive. My mind on its own centre stands unmoved, DRYDEN. And stable as the fabric of the world. DRYDEN. But those. I can accuse, I can forgive: By my disdainful silence let them live. Some aged man who lives this act to see, DRYDEN. And who in former times remember'd me, May say, The son, in fortitude and fame, Some grave their wrongs on marble; he, more Outgoes the mark, and drowns his father's name. just, DKRYDEN. Stoop'd down serene, and wrote them on the The captive cannibal, opprest with chains, Yet braves his foes, reviles, provokes, disdains; Trod under foot, the sport of every wind, Trod under foot, the sport of every wind, Of nature fierce, untamable, and proud, Swept from the earth, and blotted from his mind'; He bids defiance to the gaping crowd, There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie, Anid spent at last, and speechless as he lies, And grieved they could not'scape th' Almighty'ss ies With fiery glances mocks their rage, and dies. eye. DR. S. MADDEN. GRANVILLE. There is strength Wisest and best of men full oft-beguiled, Deep-bedded i our hearts, of which we reck With goodness principled, not to reject ~ But little till the shafts of heaven have pierced The penitent, but ever to forgive, Its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent Are drawn to wear out miserable days. Before her gems are found? MILTON. MRS. HEMANS. 202 FOR TITUDE. -FOR TU7NE. Against allurement, custonmi and a, world Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, And he's of men most wise who bears them Or violence. best. MILTON. CUMBERLAND: Piile1nzozz. Though plunged in ills, and exercised in care, They had th' especial engines been, to rear Yet never let the noble mind despair; His fortunes up into the state they were. When prest by dangers, and beset with foes, DANIEL. The gods their timely succour interpose, The highest hill is the most slipp'ry place, And when our virtue sinks, o'erwhelm'd with A rwen, ourvirtten, oAnd fortune mocks us with a smiling face. SIR J. DENHAb^. By unforeseen expedients bring relief. AMBROSE PHILIPS. 0 fortune! thou art not worth my least exclaim, A soul supreme in each hard instance tried, claim, And plague enough thou hast in thy own name: Above all pain, all anger, and all pride, oe ralf pa, al ae, n abllc prieat, Do thy great worst, my friends and I have arms, The rage of pow'r, the blast of public breath, The r of prd the ba of eath Though not against thy strokes, against thy The lust of lucre, and the dread of death. POPE, ~ harlms. POPE. I DONNE. You were used 0 how feeble is man's power, To say extremity was the trier of spirits; That, if good fortune fall, That common chances common men could bear. Cannot add another hour, SHAKSPEARE. Nor a lost hour recall! DONNE. Are these things, then, necessities? Fortune, that, with malicious joy, Then let us meet them like necessities; Doth man her slave oppress, And that same word even now cries out on us. Proud of her office to destroy, SHAKSPEARE. Is seldom pleased to bless.. DRYDEN. Bid that welcome I0 mortals! blind in fate, who never know To bear high fortune or endure the low. Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, ear high fortune, or edure the low. DRYDEN. Seeming to bear it lightly. SHAKSPEARE. I'll strike my fortune with him at a heat, And give him not the leisure to forget. Indiff'rence, clad in wisdom's guise,. DRYDEN. All fortitude of mind supplies; For how can stony bowels melt He. sigh'd; and could not but their fate deplore: In those who never pity felt? So wretched now, so fortunate before. SWIFT. DRYDEN. With better grace an ancient chief may yield FORTUNE. The long-contended honours of the field, Than venture all his fortune at a cast, Fair fortune next, with looks serene and kind, And fight, like Hannibal, to lose at last. Receives'em, in her ancient fane enshrined. DRYDEN. ADDISON. I am now in fortune's power: Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, He that is down can fall no lower. And him who should be victor, makes the slave. BUTLER: Hzidibras. DRYDEN. When fortune sends a stormy wind, Fortune came smiling to my youth, and woo'd it, Then show a brave and present mind; And purpled greatness met my ripen'd years. And when with too indulgent gales DRYDEN. She swells too much, then furl thy sails. You have already wearied fortune so, CREECH-. She cannot farther be your friend or foe, He lends him vain Goliath's sacred sword, But sits all breathless, and admires to feel The fittest help just fortune could afford. A fate so weighty that it stops her wheel. COWLEZZ. DRYDEN. FOR TURVE. 203 I would not take the gift, But tell me, Tityrus, what heav'nly pow'r Which, like a toy dropt from the hands of Preserved your fortunes in that fatal hour? fortune, DRYDEN. Lay for the next chauice comer. If fortune take not off this boy betimes, DRYDEN. He'll make mad work and elbow out his neighFate's dark recesses we can never find; hours. But fortune at some hours to all is kind; DRYDEN. bThe lucky have whole days which still they The middle sort, who have not much to spare, choose, To chiromancers' cheaper art repair, The unlucky have but hours, and those they lose. Who clap the pretty palm, to make the lines DRYDEN. more fair. DRYDEN. Fortune confounds the wise, And, when they least expect it, turns the dice. Let fortune empty her whole quiver on me,.DRYDEN. I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more. But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, Fate was not mine: nor am I Fate's: The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. Souls know no conquerors. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. In this still labyrinth around her lie Enljoy the present smiling hour, Spells, philters, globes, and spheres of palmistry; And put it out of fortune's pow'r. A sigil in his hand the gypsy bears, A sigil in his hand the gypsy bears, DRYDEN. In th' other a prophetic sieve and shears. Some secret charm did all her acts attend, GARTH. And what his fortune wanted, hers could mend. I, near yon stile, three sallow gypsies met; DRYDEN. Upon my hand they cast a poring look, Thine is th' adventure, thine the victory; 1Bid me beware, and thrice their heads they Well has thy fortune turn'd the die for thee. sook AY. DRYDEN. Alas! the joys that fortune brings He little dream'cl how nigh he was to care, Are trifling, and decay, Till treach'rous fortune caught him in the snare. And those who prize the trifling things DRYDEN. More trifling still than they. GOLDSMITH. The weak low spirit fortune makes her slave; But she's a drudge when hector'd by the brave. Dame Nature gave him comeliness and health, DRYDEN. And fortune, for a passport, gave him wealth. WALTER HARTE. I go with love and fortune, two blind guides, Gad not abroad at ev'ry guest and call To lead my way; half loth and half consenting. Of an untrained hope or passion; DRYDEN. To court each place or fortune that doth fall But fortune there extenuates the crime: Is wantonness in contemplation. What's vice in me is only mirth in him. GEORGE HERBERT. DRYDEN. All human business fortune doth command Without all order; and with her blind hand While fortune favour'd, while his arms support She, blind, bestows blind gifts, that still have The cause, and ruled the counsels of the court, I made some figure there; nor was my name nrst I made some figure thee;orasyThey see not who, nor how, but still the worst. Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. DRYDEN. 1BEN JONSON. DRYDEN. How fortune plies her sports, when she begins His birth, perhaps, some paltry village hides, To practise them! pursues, continues, adds, And sets his cradle out of fortune's way. Confounds, with varyingherempassion'd moods! DRYDEN. BEN JONSON: Sejanlus 204 FOR TUNE. Love made my emergent fortune once more look A most poor man made tame to fortune's blows, Above the main, which now shall hit the stars. Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, BEN JONSON. Am pregnant to good pity. SHAISPEARE. Let not one look of fortune cast you down; She were not fortune if she did not frown: Many dream not to find, neither deserve, Such as do braveliest bear her scorns awhile And yet are steep'd in favours. Are those on whom at last she most will smile. SHAKSPEARE. LORD ORRERY. We're not the first Avoid both courts and camps, Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the Where dilatory fortune plays the jilt worst: With the brave, noble, honest, gallant man, For thee, oppressed king, I am cast down: To throw herself away on fools. Myself could else outfrown false fortune's frown. OTWAY. SHAKSPEARE. Who thinks that fortune cannot change her Happy is your grace, mind, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. Into so quiet and so sweet a style. And who stands safest? tell me, is it he SHAKISPEARE. That spreads and swells in puff'd prosperity? In the wind and tempest of fortune's fiown, Or, blest with little, whose preventing care Or, blest wrovith s lit, whose pre tingt cware Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, In peace provides fit arms against a war? POPE. Puffing at all, winnows the light away. SHAKSPEARE. Behold! if fortune or a mistress frowns, Behold! if fortune o a mistress frowns, A good man's fortune may grow out at heels. Some plunge in business, others shave their SHARSPEARE., S.HAKSPEAR E. crowns. POPE. It is fortune's use To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, Fortune not much of humbling me can boast; To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow, Though double-tax'd, how little have I lost! POPIE. An age of'poverty. SHAKSPEARE. Thus her blind sister, fickle fortune, reigns, Since this fortune falls to you, And undiscerning scatters crowns and chains. Be content, and seek no new. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel, I am a soldier, and unapt to weep, From any turn of her fantastic wheel. Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. Thy rise of fortune did I only wed, Well, I know not From its decline determined to recede. What counts hard fortune casts upon my face. PRIOR. SHIAKSPEARE. But he whose word and fortunes disagree, Wisdom and fortune combating together: Absurd, unpitied, grouws a public jest. If that the fortune dare but what it can, ROSCOMMON. No chance may shake it. SHAKSPEARE. Now rising fortune elevates his mind, He shines unclouded, and adorns mankind. This accident and flood of fortune SAVAGE. So far exceed all instance, all discourse, Will fortune never come with both hands full, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes, But write her fair words still in foulest letters? And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me She either gives a stomach, and no food- To any other trust. SHAKSPEARE. Such are the poor in health; or else a feast, And takes away the stomach-such the rich, Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm That have abundance, and enjoy it not. With favour never claspt, but bred a dog. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. FOR TUNE. — O UNTA IANS. —FREED OH. oM5 Blest are those Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd, Whose blood and judgment are so well com- Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure, mingled, With touch ethereal of heav'n's fiery rod, That they are not a plipe for fortune's finger I drank. To sound what stop she please. MILTON. SHAXISPEARE. Under a tuft of shade, that on a green There is a tide in the affairs of men, Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh fountain's side, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; They sat them down. Omitted, all the voyage of their life. MILTON. Is b Iound in shallows and in miseries. High at his head, from out the cavern'd rock, SHARKSPEARE. In living rills, a gushing fountain broke. In losing fortune, many a lucky elf POPE. Has found himself; Has allournmoral hitters; aeWith here a fountain never to be play'd, As all our moral bitters are design'd And there a summer-house that knows no shade. To brace the mind, And renovate its healthy tone, the wise Their sorest trials hail as blessings in disguise. Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect HORACE SMITH. crown'd; Fortune, the foe of famous chevisance, This through the gardens leads its streams Seldom, says Guyon, yields to virtue aid. around. POPE. SPENSER. And fie on fortune, mine avowed foe, The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings, Whose wrathful wreaks themselves do now Replenish'd from the cool translucent springs. allay. POPE. SPENSER. Forever, fortune, wilt thou prove The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades Forever, fortune, wilt thou prove Delight no more. An unrelenting foe to love, POPE. And when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between and bid us part? The weary traveller wandering that way THOMSON. Therein did often quench his thirsty heat. SPENSER. The lovely young Lavinia once had friends, And fortune smiled, deceitful, on her birth. THOMSON. FREEDOM. Yet, as immortal, in our uphill chase But what avail her unexhausted stores, We press coy fortune with unslacken'd pace. Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, YOUNG. With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, FOUNTAINS. While proud oppression in her valleys reigns, And tyranny usurps her happy plains? A fountain in a darksome wood, ADDISON. Nor stain'd with falling leaves nor rising mud. ADDISON. We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves, But free the commonwealth. Her fields he clothed, and cheer'd her blasted ADDISON. face With running fountains, and with springing Let freedom never perish in your hands, grass. But piously transmit it to your children. ADDISON. ADDISON, Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not, Into a gulf shot under ground, till part Who would be free, themselves must strike the Rose up a fountain by the tree of life. blow? MILTON. BYRON: Czi/de Ha;rold. 206 FREED 0.. For Freedom's battle, once begun, Freedom and zeal have choused you o'er and Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son, o'er; Though baffled oft, is ever won. Pray give us leave to bubble you once more. BYRON: Giaour. DRYDEN. Is't death to fall for Freedom's right? Till then, a helpless, hopeless, homely swain, He's dead alone who lacks her light! I sought not freedom, nor aspired to gain. CAMPBELL. DRYDEN. Hope for a season bade the world Farewell, Whose grievance is satiety of ease And Freedom shriek'd as Kosciusko-fell. CAPBAnd Fremhe'LLas osciskof fope. Freedom their pain, and plenty their disease. CAMPBELL: _Pleasures of Hoe. WALTER HARTE. Where honour or where conscience does not In the long vista of the years to roll, other tie shall shackle me; Let me not see my country's honour fade;'No otertisalhaklmOh! let me see our land retain its soul! Slave to myself I will not be; Nor shall my future actions be confined Her pride in Freedom, and not Freedom's Nor shall my future actions be confined shade. By my own present mind, shade. COWLEY. He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, Nations grown corrupt And all are slaves beside. Love bondage more than liberty; COWPER. Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty. No! Freedom has a thousand charms to show,MILTON. That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. Freedom who loves, must first be wise and good; But from that mark how far they rove we see, O freedom! first delight of human kind! For all this waste of wealth and loss of blood. Not that which bondmen from their masters MILTON. find, The privilege of doles; nor yet t' inscribe Who can in reason then or right assume Their names in this or t'other Roman tribe: Monarchy over such as live by right That false enfranchisement with ease is found; His equals, if in pow'r or splendour less, Slaves are made citizens by turning round. In freedom equal?TON. DRYDEN. Restraining others, yet himself not free; Better to dwell in Freedom-'s hall, Made impotent by pow'r, debased by dignity. With a cold damp floor and mouldering wall, DRYDEN. Than bow the head and bend the knee In the proudest palace of slaverie. For fi-eedom still maintain'd alive, MOORE Freedom, an English subject's sole prerogative, Accept our pious praise. - Oh, stretch thy reign, fair peace! from shore to DRYDEN. shore, O last and best of SQots! who didst maintain Till conquest cease, and slav'ry be no more; Thy country's freedom from a foreign reign. Till the freed Indians in their native groves DRYDEN. Reap their own fruits and woo their sable loves. Wish'd freedom I presage you soon will find, POPE. If heav'n be just, and if to virtue kind. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose DRYDEN. Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? Freedom was first bestow'd on human race, -To be a queen in bondage is more vile And prescience only held the second place. Than is a slave in base servility. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Trade which, like blood, should circularly flow, But farewell, king, sith thus thou wilt appear, Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost. Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. "ER-EEDS OE-FR EE WILL. 207 What art thou, Freedom? Oh! could slaves O pass not, Lord! an absolute decree, Answer from their living graves Or bind thy sentence unconditional; This demand, tyrants would flee But in thy sentence our remorse foresee, Like a dream's dim imagery, And in that foresight this thy doom recall. SHELLEY. DRYDEN. What indignation in her mind Against enslavers of mankind i SWIFT. All other agents did necessitate; So what he ordel-'d they by nature do; Oh, give, great God, to freedom's waves to ride So what he order'd they by nature do; Thus light things mount, and heavy downward Sublime o'er Conquest, Avarice, and Pride; To sweep where Pleasure decks her guilty bowers,,Man only boasts an arbitrary state. And dark Oppression builds her thick-ribb'd only boasts an arbitrary state. DRYDEN. towers. WORDSWORTH. Tell me, which part it does necessitate? I'll choose the other: there I'll link th' effect; Slaves who once conceive the glowing thought A chain, which fools to catch themselves project Of freedom, in that hope itself possess All that the contest calls for; —spirit, strength, The scorn of danger, and united hearts, Others apart sat on a hill retired, The surest presage of the good they seek. In thoughts more elevate, and reason!d high WORDSWORTH. Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute; And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. MILTON. FREE WILL. God made thee perfect, not immutable, Faultless thou dropt from his unerring skill, And good he made thee, but to persevere With the base power to sin, since free of will; He left it in thy pow'r; or thy will Yet carge otithtyguiliHe left it in thy pow'r; ordain'd thy will Yet charge not with thy guilt his bounteous By nature fee, not overruled by fate By nature free, not overruled by fate love; Inextricable, or strict necessity. For who has power to walk, has power to rove. MILTON. ARBUTHNOT. Nor knew I not Our souls at least are free, and'tis in vain To be with will and deed created free. We would against them make the flesh obey: MILTON. The spirit in the end will have its way. Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve. BYRON. MILTON. Grace leads the right way: if you choose the Who, in all things wise and just, wrong, Hinder'cld not Satan to attempt the mind Take it, and perish, but restrain your tongte; Of man, with strength entire and free will arm'd. Charge not, with light sufficient, and left free, MILTON. Your wilful suicide on God's decree. COWPER. By original lapse, true liberty Is lost, which always with right reason d-wells, If love be compell'd, and cannot choose, Twined, and from her hath no dividual being. How can it grateful or thankworthy prove? MILTON. SIR J. DAVIES. Take heed lest passion sway Heav'n made us agents, free to good orl ill; Thy judgment to do aught which else free will And forced it not, though he foresaw the will: Would not admit. Freedom was first bestow'd on human race, MILTON. And prescience only held the second place. Stand fast! to stand or fall, DRYDEN, Free in thine own arbitrament it stands: Made for his use, yet he has form'd us so, Perfect within, no outward aid require, We, unconstrain'd, what he commands us, do. And all temptation to transgress repel. DRYDEN. MILTON. 208 FREE WILL.-P-iUtENDSHI~P. Man seduced, Friendship is not a plant of hasty growth; And flatter'd out of all, believing lies tThough planted in esteem's deep-fixed soil, Against his Maker: no decree of mine The gradual culture of kind intercourse Concurring to necessitate his fall. Must bring it to perfection. MILTON. JOANNA BAILLIE. Man with strength and free will arm'd Pride may cool what passion heated, Complete, to have discover'd and repulsed Time will tame the wayward will; Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. But the heart in friendship cheated MILTON. _'Throbs with woe's more maddening thrill. Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell: BYRON. Not free, what proof could they have given Give me the avow'd,'the erect, the manly foe; sincere Bold I can meet-perhaps may turn his blow; Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love, But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can Where only what they needs must do, appear'd, send, Not what they would? Save, save, oh! save me from the Candid Friend. MILTON. CANNING: Nez Miorality. I else must change If she repent, and would make me amends, Their nature, and revoke the high decree, Bid her but send me hers, and we are friends. Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd CAREW. Their freedom; they themselves ordain'd their fall. Friendship is the cement of two minds, falMITON. As of one man the soul and body is; Of which one cannot sever but the other Perverse mankind! whose wills, created free, Sufers a needful separation. Charge all their woes on absolute decree; GEORGE CHAPMAN: Revenge. All to the dooming gods their guilt translate, Ancd follies are miscall'd the crimes of fate. Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends! POPE. Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man? Three treasures,-love He, binding nature fast in fate, Left conscience free, and will. POPE. and light And calm thoughts, regular as infants' breath; BMaan, though limited And three firm friends, more sure than day or By fate, may vainly think his actions free, night,While all he does was, at his hour of birth, Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. Or by his gods, or potent stars, ordain'd. COLERIDGE: Reprof ROWE. I He loved my worthless rhymes; and, like a fiiend, FRIENDSHIP. Would always find out something to commend. Great souls by instinct to each other turn, COWLEY. Demand alliance, and in friendship burn. Acquaintance I would have, but when't depends ADDISON. Not on the number but the choice of friends. Plead it to her COWLEY. With all the strength and heat of eloquence Fraternal love and friendship can nspre.you r ack ADDISON. And proves by thumping on your back His sense of your great merit, Nature first pointed out my Portius to me, Is such a friend that one had need And easily taught me by her secret force Be very much his friend indeed To love thy person ere I knew thy merit; To pardon or to bear it. Till what was instinct grew up into friendship. COWPER: On Friendshi5. ADDISON. Well-chosen friendship, the most noble The friendships of the world are oft Of virtues, all our joys makes double, Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure. And into halves divides our trouble. ADDISON. SIR J. DENHAM. _FEN:'_/iDSHIP. 209 Have we not plighted each our holy oath Hast thou been never base? Did love ne'er That one should be the common good of both; bend One soul should both inspire, and neither prove Thy frailer virtue to betray thy friend? His fellow's hindrance in pursuit of love? Flatter me, make thy court, and say it did: DRYDEN. Kings in a crowd would have their vices hid. Deserted at his utmost need DRYDEN. By those his former bounty fed. DRYDEN. Command the assistance of a faithful friend, But feeble are the succours I can send. The wretched have no firiends. DRYDEN, DRYDEN. Heroic virtue did his actions guide, You love me for no other end And he the substance, not th' appearance But to become my confidant and friend chose: As such, I keep no secret from your sight. To rescue one such friend he took more pride DRYDEN. Than to destroy whole thousands of such foes. DRYDEN. Thanks are half lost when good turns are delay'd. I would bring balm, and pour it in your wound, FAIRFAX. Cure your distemper'd mind, and heal your for- He who, malignant, tears an absent friend, tunes. tunes. DRYDEN. Or, when attack'd by others, don't defend, Who friendship's secrets knows not to conceal — What fate a wretched fugitive attends: That man is vile. Scorn'd by my foes, abandon'd by my friends. FRANCIS. DRYDEN. Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame. Ye moon and stars, bear witness to the truth the The child whom many fathers share His only crime, if friendship can offend, Hath seldom kncwn a father's care. Is too much love to his unhappy friend. DTis thus in friendship: who depend On many rarely find a friend. GAY.'Tis thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state; ( so..n, ILove is a sudden blaze which soon decays, Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate. Friendship is like the sun's eternal rays; DRYDEN. DRDEN. Not daily benefits exhaust the flame: It upbraids you, It still is giving, and still burns the same. To let your father's friend, for three long months, GAY: Dione. Thus dance attendance for a word of audience. And what is friendship but a name, DRYDEN. A charm that lulls to sleep! The fair blessing we vouchsafe to send;. A shade that follows wealth or fame, Nor can we spare you long, though often we may And leaves the wretch to'veep! lend. GOLDSMITH: _enrnit. DRYDEN. At this one stroke the man look'd dead in law; They dare not give, and e'en refuse to lend, His flatterers scamper, and his friends withdraw. To their poor kindred, or a wanting friend. WALTER HARTE. DRYDEN. True happiness My sons, let your unseemly discord cease; Consists not in the multitude of friends, If not in friendship, live at least in peace. But in the worth and choice: nor would I have DRYDEN. Virtue a popular regard pursue: Let them be good that love, although but few. Let them who truly would appear my friends BEN JONSON: Cynthia's Revels. Employ their swords, like mine, for noble ends. DRYDEN. 0 summer friendship, Whose flattering leaves, that shadow'd us in Wonder not to see this soul extend Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off The bounds, and seek some other self, a friend. In th' autumn of adversity! DRYDEN. MASSINGER: fMaid of Howzoztr. 14 21I FoRIEXNDSHIP. For I learn A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Now of my own experience, not by talk, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows. How counterfeit a coin they are who friends POPE. Bear in their superscription (of the most Ev'n thought meets thought ere from the lips it I would be understood): in prosperous days They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head, And each warm wish springs mutual from the Not to be found, though sought. heart. MILTON. heart. POPE. Friend after friend departs! Come then, my friend, my genius, come along: Who hath not lost a friend? Thou master of the poet and the song! There is no union here of hearts POPE. That hath not here its end. JAMES MONTGOMERY. But ancient friends, though poor or out of pay, That touch my bell, I cannot turn away. The friends who in our sunshine live POPE. When winter comes are flown; And he who has but tears to give Trust not yourself; but, your defects to know, Must weep those tears alone. Make use of ev'ry friend-and ev'ry foe. MOORE. POPE. For time will come, with all its blights, Each finding, like a friend, The ruin'd hope-the friend unkind. Something to blame, and something to comMOORE. mend. POPE. Alas! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear; Hearts that tlhe world in vain had tried, iA sigh the absent claims, the dead a tear. And sorrow but more closely tied; POPE. That stood the storm when waves were rough, When'int'rest calls off all her sneaking train, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, When a l th' obliged desert, and all the vain, Like ships that have gone down at sea She waits, or to the scaffold, or the cell, When heaven was all tranquillity. When the last ling'ring friend has bid farewell. MOORE: LaZla Rook/i. POPE. Friendship above all ties does bind the heart; Lend me thy aid, I now conjure thee! lend, And faith in friendship is the noblest part. By the soft tie and sacred name of friend. LORD ORRERY: Henry V. POPE\ You would not wish to count this man a foe! To what new clime, what distant sky, In friendship, and in hatred, obstinate. Forsaken, friendless, will ye fly?. JOHN PHILIPS. POPE. Friendship's an abstract of love's noble flame, Like friendly colours found our hearts unite,'Tis love refined, and purged from all its dross; And each from each contract new strength and The next to angels' love, if not the same; light. As strong as passion is, though not so gross: POPE. It antedates a glad eternity, Itantedais a hav ept, If in the melancholy shades below And is a heaven in epitome. Andsah pKATHERINE PHILIPS. The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow, KATHERINE PHILIPS. Yet mine shall sacred last; mine undecay'd Who most to shun or hate mankind pretend, Burn on through life, and animate my shade. Seek an admirer, or would fix a friend; POPE. Abstract what others feel, what others think, I, in fact, a real interest have, All pleasures sicken, and all glories sink. POPE. Which to my own advantage I would save, And with the usual courtier's trick intend Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend. To serve myself, forgetful of my friend. POPE. PRIOR. FRIIENVDSHIP. 2 [1 I To my dear equal in my native land, We created with our needles both one flower, *My plighted vow I gave: I his received: Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion; Each swore with truth, with pleasure each be- Both warbling of one songr-both in one key, lieved: As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, The mutual contract was to heav'n convey'd. Had been incorp'rate. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. May he not craftily infer- A friend should bear a friend's infirmities; Th'e rules of friendship too severe, ut Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Which chain him to a hated trust, SHAKSPEARE. Which make him wretched to be just? PRIOR. God's benison go with you, and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of Some limbs again, in bulkl or stature Unlike, and not akin by nature, SHAKSPEARE. In concert act, like modern friends, Because one serves the other's ends. Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack PRIOR. To think I shall lack friends? To tell thy mis'ries will no comfort breed; SHAKSPEARE. Men help thee most that think thou hast no need:So fellest foes, But if the world once thy misfortunes know, Whose passions and whose plots have broke Thou soon shalt lose a friesnd and find a foe. their sleep, THOIAS RANDOLPH. To take the one the other, by some chance, A friend is gold: if true, he'll never leave thee: Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear Yet both, without a touchstone, may deceive thee. firiends. THOMAS RANDOLPH. SKSPEARsE. True friends appear less moved than counterfeit. Who alone suffers, suffels most i' th' mind; RosCOMMON. But then the mind much suffrance does o'erskip When grief hath mates and bearing fellowship. Even he, SIHIAKSPEARE. Lamenting that there had been cause of enmity, Will often fweish fate had orlain'd you friiends. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not ROWE. As to thy friend; for when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his fr-iend? Who knows the joys of friendship? SHAKSPEARE. The trust, security, and mutual tenderness, The double joys, where each is glad for both? The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Friendship our only wealth, our last retreat and Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel: strength, But do not dull thy palh with entertainment Secure against ill fortune and the world. Of each new-hatch'd unfledged comrade. ROWE. SHAKISPEARE. Is this the counsel that we two have shared, Neither a borrower nor a lender be; The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent, For loan oft loses both itself and friend, When we have chid the hasty-footed time And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. For parting us? SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Has friendship such a faint and milky heart Is all forgot? It turns in less than two nights? All school-days' friendship, childhood, inno-SHAKSPEARE cence? SHARSPEARE. I thank yoiu for this profit, and from hence We still have slept together, I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence. Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; SHAKSPEARE. And whereso'er we went, like Juno's swans, It would become me better than to close Still we went coupled and inseparable. In terms of friendship with thine enemies. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 212 FRIENDSHIP. Noble friends and fellows, whom to leave Who in want a hollow friend doth try, Is only bitter to me, only dying; Directly seasons him his enemy. Go with me, like good angels, to my end. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The private wound is deepest. O time most Friendship is constant in all other things curst Save in the office and affairs of love:'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the Therefore all hearts in love use their own worst! tongues; SHAiSPEARE. Let ev'ry eye negotiate for itself, Let ev'y eye negotiate for itself, The great man down, you mark, his fav'rite And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. The The poor advanced makes firiends of enemies. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. My love and fear glew'd many friends to thee; And now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt. the He shall as soon read in the eyes of others As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, Who'd be so mock'd with glory, as to live Show not their mealy wings but to the summer. But in a dream of friendship? SHAKSPEARE. To have his pomp, and all what state com- As we do turn our backs pounds, From our companion thrown into his grave, But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? So his familiars to his buried fortunes SHAKSPEARE. Slink all away; leave their false vows with him, Where you are liberal of your loves and coun- Like empty purses pick'd; and this poor self, sels, A dedicated beggar to the air, Be sure you be not loose; for those you make nith his disease of all-shunnd poverty, friends, Walks, like contempt, alone. SHAKSPEARE. And give your hearts to, when they once perceive To wail friends lost The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, Like water from ye, never found again, As to rejoice at friends but newly found. But where they mean to sink ye. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Oh world! thy slippery turns! Friends now Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; fast sworn, Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, SHAKSPEARE. Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and Seeing the hurt stag alone, exercise, Le-ft canld abandond' of his velvet friends, Are still together; who twin, as'twere, in love'Tis right, quoth he; thus misery doth part Unseparable, shall within this hour, The flux of company. On a dissension of a doit, break out SHAKSPEARE. To bitterest enmity. SHAKSPEARE. When I have most need to employ a friend, His fi'iendship was exactly timed: Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile Be he to me-this do I beg of heav'n!! He shot before your foes were primed. SXTIiFT. When I am cold in zeal to you or yours. SHAKSPEARE. His friendships, still to few confined, That, sir, which serves for gain, Were always of the meddling kind. That, sir, which serves for gain,. SWIFT. And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain, Perform'd what friendship, justice, truth, require, And leave thee in the storm. What could he more but decently retire? SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT. FRUENVDSHIP. -FR UIT. 213 That gen'rous boldness to defend FRUIT. An innocent or absent friend. SWIFT. No spring, nor summer, on the mountain seen, Smiles with gay fruits or with delightful green. Some dire misfortune to portend, ADDISON. No enemy can match a friend. SWIFT. The poor inhabitant beholds in vain The redd'ning orange and the swelling grain. Is there, kind heaven! no constancy in man? ADDISON. No steadfast truth, no gen'rous fix'd affection, Instead of golden fiuits, That can bear up against a selfish world? By genial show'rs and solar heat supplied, No, there is none. Unsufferable winter hath defaced THOMSON: Tancred and Sziismzzunda. Earth's blooming charms, and made a barren Friendship's an empty name, made to deceive waste. Those whose good nature tempts them to SIR R. BLACKMORE. believe: The fragrant fruit from bending branches shake, There's no such thing on earth; the best that we And with the crystal stream their thirst at pleasCan hope for here is faint neutrality. ure slake. SIR SAMUEL TUKE: Ad4ventures. SIR R. BLACKMORE. The fair pomegranate might adorn the pine, O! what a happiness is it to find A firiend of our own blood, a brotlher' kind! i The grape the bramble, and the sloe the vine. SIR R. BLACKMORE. WTALLER. The fruits perish on the ground, Friendship has a power To soothe af~fliction in her darlkest Iour. Or soon decay, by snows immod'rate chill'd, H. KIRI(E WHITE. By winds are blasted, or by lightning lill'd __ SIR R. BLACKMIORE. Small service is true service while it lasts; The kernel of a grape, the fig's small grain, Of fr-iends, however humble, scorn not one: Can clothe a mountain, and o'ershade a plain. The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, SIR J. DENHAII. Protects the ling'ring dewdrop from the sun. WORDSWORTH. Lest thy redundant juice Should fading leaves, instead of fruits, produce, They drop apace; by nature some decay; The pruner's hand with letting blood must And some the blasts of fortune sweep away; quench Till, naked quite of happiness, aloud Thy heat, and thy exub'rant parts retrench. We call for death, and shelter in a shroud. SIR J. DENHAM. YOUNG. Myself will search our planted grounds at home Heaven gives us friends to bless the present For downy peaches and the glossy plum. scene; DRYDEN. Resumes them, to prepare us for the next. Let Araby extol her happy coast, YOUNG: Nivght Th ozughzs. Her cinnamon and sweet amomum boast. DRYDEN. IHope not to find A friend, but what has found a friend in thee; Now let me graff my pears and prune the vine. All like the purchase, few the price will pay; DRYDEN. And this makes friends such miracles below. On a neighb'ring tree descending light, YOUNG: Nighzt Thzough~ts. Like a large cluster of black grapes they show, And make a large dependence from the bough. First on thy friend deliberate with thyself; Pause, ponder, sift; not eager in the choice, DRYDEN. Nor jealous of the chosen; fixing, fix;- Creeping'twixt'em all, the mantling vine Judge before friendship, then conifide till death. Does round their trunks her purple clusters twine. YO)UNG: NiVo,/t ThoughZs. vDRYDEN. 214.R RUIT. Let thy vines in intervals be set; The mother plant admires the leaves unknown Indulge their width, and add a roomy space, Of alien trees and apples not her own. That their extremest lines may scarce embrace. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Walnuts the fruit'rer's hand in autumn stain, He feeds on fruits, which of their own accord Blue plums and juicy pears augment his gain. The willing grounds and laden trees afford. GAY. DRYDEN. Melons on beds of ice are taught to bear, And, strangers to the sun, yet ripen here. Sharp-tasted citrons Melian climes produce: GRANVILLE. Bitter the rind, but gen'rous is the juice. DRYDEN. Let your various creams encircled be With swelling fruit, just ravish'd from the tree. And since that plenteous autumn now,is past, DR. WM. KIING: 4Art of Cook/e;ly. Whose grapes and peaches have indulged your Nor must all shoots of pears alike he set, taste, Crustumian, Syrian pears, and wardens great. Take in good part, fronm our poor poet's board, MAY. Such rivell'd fruits as winter can affordi. DRYDENT. tRose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread Their branches hung with copious fruit. Those rich perfumes which from the happy MILTON. shore Small store will serve, where store The winds upon their balmy wings convey'd, All seasons, ripe for use, hangs on the stalk. Whose guilty sweetness first the world betray'd. MILTON. DRYDEN. Thy abundance wants Content with foo which nature freely re, Partakers, and uncropp'd falls to the ground. Content with food which nature freely bred, On wildings and on strawberries they fed; MILTON. Fruit, like that Cornels and bramble-berries gave the rest, Fruit, lise that And falling acorns furnish'd out a feast. Which grew in aradise, the ait of Eve DRYDFN. Used by the tempter. 1 MILTON. Thus apple-trees, whose trunks are strong to bear Each tree, Their spreading boughs, exert themselves in air. Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye DRYDEN. Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat. He seized the shining bough with griping hold, MILTON. And rent away with ease the ling'ring gold. In her hand she held DRYDEN. A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffiused. Ten wrildings have I gather'd for my dear: M ILTON. How ruddy, like your lips, their streaks appear! DRYDEN. Greedily they pluck'd The fruitage, fair to sight, like that which grew Sweet grapes degen'rate there, and fruits, de- Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed. clinecl MILTON'. From their first flav'rous taste, renounce their kind.,~~~ ~The force of that fallacious firuit, DRYDEN. That with exhilarating vapour bland About their spirits had play'd, and inmost pow'rs'Tis usual now an inmate graff to see Made err, was now exhaled. With insolence invade a foreign tree. MILTON. DRYDEN. Fruits of all kinsds, in coat He knew Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, For fruit the grafted pear-tree to dispose, She gathers tribute large, and on the board And tame to plums the sourness of the sloes. Heaps with ufisparing hand. DRYD-EN. MILTON. FR UIT. 2I5 Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, Not the fair fruit that on yon branches glows, Which that false fruit, that promised clearer sight, With that ripe red th' autumnal sun bestows, Had bred. Can move the god. MILTON. POPE. Fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst His pruning-hook corrects the vines, And hunger both. And the loose stragglers to their ranks confines. MILTON. POPE. Best of fruits, whose taste gave elocution. To happy convents, bosom'd deep in vines, MILTON. Where slumber abbots purple as their wines. POPE. Higher than that wall, a circling row Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, Depending vines the shelving cavern screen, Blossoms, and fruits at once of golden hue, With purple clusters blushing through the green. Appeared with enamell'd colours mixed. POPE. MILTON. Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine, Where any row Of fruit trees, over-woody, reach'd too far And grateful clusters swell with floods of wine. POPE. Their pamper'd boughs. MILTON. Full on its crown a fig's green branches rise, And shoot, a leafy forest, to the skies. Rovingr the field, I chanced POPE. A goodly tree far distant to behold, Loaden with fruit of fairest colours. There grew a goodly tree him fair beside, MILTON. Loaden with fruit and apples rosy red, As they in pure vermilion had been dyed, e mytles brown, with ivy never sere, Whereof great virtues over all were read. I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, SPENSER. And with forced fingers rude Scatter your leaves before the mellowing year. For streaks of red were mingled there, MILTON. Such as are on a Catherine pear, The side that's next the sun. Where full-ear'd sheaves of rye Grow wavy on the tilth, that soil select SIR J. SUCKLING. For apples. Bear me, Pomona! to thy citron groves, JOHN PHILIPS. To where the lemon and the piercing lime, Ceres, in her prime, With the deep orange glowing through the green, Seems fertile, and with ruddiest freight bede ck'd. Their lighter glories blend. JOHN PHILIPS. THOMSON. Nor is it hard to beautify each month Unnumber'd fruits With files of party-colour'dl fruits. A friendly juice to cool thirst's rage contain. JOHN PHILIPS. THOMSON. Disburthen thou thy sapless wood The downy orchard, and the, melting pulp Of its rich progeny; the turgid fruit Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed Abounds with mellow liquor. Of evanescent insects. JOHN PHILIPS. THOMSON. Her private orchards walled on ev'ry side, Nor, on its slender twigs To lawless sylvans all access denied. Low bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd. POPE. THOMSON. Tall thriving trees confess'd the fruitful mould; Or lead me through the maze The redd'ning apple ripens here to gold. Embowering endless of the Indian fig. POPE. THOMSON. To him your orchard's early fruits are due, The juicy pear A pleasing off'ring when'tis made by you. Lies in a soft profusion scatter'd round. POPE. THOMSON. 216.FIR UZI T- FUNERALS. Unripe fruit, whose verdant stalks do cleave Come, shepherds, come and strew with leaves Close to the tree, which grieves no less to leave the plain; The smiling pendent which adorns her so, Such funeral rites your Daphnis did ordain. And until autumn on the bough should grow. DRYDEN. WALLER. The fun'ral pomp which to your kings you pay The tardy plants in our cold orchards placed Is all I want, and all you take away. Reserve their fruit for the next age's taste. DRYDEN. WALLER. They to the master-street the corps convey'd; With candied plantains and the juicy pine, The houses to their tops with black were spread, On choicest melons and sweet grapes they dine. And e'en the pavements were with mourning hid. WALLER. DRYDEN. Figs there unplanted through the fields do grow, The neighbours Such as fierce Cato did the Romans show. Follow'd with wistful looks the damsel bier, WALLER. Sprigg'd rosemary the lads and lasses bore. GAY. He ripens spices, fruit, and precious gum, Which from remotest regions hither come. Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon'd WALLER. round, Bermudas wall'cl with rocks, who does not know And with the nodding plume of ostrich crown'd? No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; That happy island, where huge lemons grow; the dead know it not, nor profit gain; Where shining pearl, coral, and many a pound, It only serves to prove the living vain. GAY:- Trivia. On the rich shore, of ambergris is found? WALLER.'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose Friends out of sight, in faith to muse FUNERALS. How grows in Paradise our store. KEBLE: Burial of the Dead. I'll follow thee in fun'ral flames; when dead, My ghost shall thee attend at board and bed. Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock SIR J. DENHAM. That was the casket of heav'n's richest store. MILTON. His body shall be royally interr'd, Here be tears of perfect moan, And the last funeral pomps adorn his hearse. DRYDEN Wept for thee in Helicon; And some flowers, and some bays, Your body I sought, and, had I found, For thy hearse, to strew the ways. Design'd for burial in your native ground. MILTON. DRYDEN. Thus unlamented pass the proud away, A tomb and fun'ral honours I decreed: The gaze of fools, the pageant of a day; The place your armour and your name retains. So perish all whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow DRYDEN. For others' good, or melt at others' woe. POPE. Thy hand o'er towns the fun'ral torch displays, And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways. The long fun'rals blacken all the way. DRYDEN. POPE. He slew Aetion, but despoil'd him not; Call round her tomb each object of desire; Nor in his hate the funeral rites forgot. Bid her by all that cheers or softens life, DRYDEN. The tender sister, daughter, friend, and wife. Your piety has paid POPE. All needful rites, to rest my wand'ring shade. But if his soul hath wing'd the destined flight, DRYDEN. Inhabitant of deep disastrous night, He chose a thousand horse, the flow'r of all Homeward with pious speed repass the main, His warlike troops, to wait the funeral. To the pale shade funereal rites ordain. DRYDEN. POPE. FUNE'RALS.-FUTURITY 2 I 7 The mournful fair, Shall funeral eloqtience her colours spread, Oft as the rolling years return, And scatter roses on the wealthy dead? With fragrant wreaths and flowing hair, YOUNG. Shall visit her distinguish'd urn. PRIOR. FUTU RITY. No widow at his funeral shall weep. SANDYS. Mine after-life! what is mine after-life? All things that we ordained festival, My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! All things that we ordained festival, Tutrn from their office to black funeral: A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate. JOANNA BAILLIE: Bnsil. Our instruments to melancholy bells; Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; Shall I be left forgotten in the dust, Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change; When Fate, relenting, lets the flower revive? Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, Shall Nature's voice, to man alone unjust, And all things change them to the contrary. Bid him, though. doom'd to perish, hope to SHAKSPEARE. live? BEATTIE: finzstrel. I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid, What deem'd they of the future or the past? And not have strew'd thy grave. The present, like a tyrant, held them fast. SHAKSPEAaE. BYRON: IsIand. On your family's old monument When fates among the stars do grow, Hang mournful epitaphs. Thou into the close nests of time dost peep, - SHAKSPEARE. And there, with piercing eye, We should profane the service of the dead, Through the firm shell and the thick white, dost To sing a requiem, and such rest to her spy, As to peace-parted souls. Years to come, a forming lie. SHAI(SPEARE. COWLEY. They bore him barefaced on the bier, The undistinguish'd seeds of good and ill And on his grave rain'd many a tear. Heav'n in his bosom from our knowledge hides. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Let one spirit of the first-born Cain Too curious man! why dost thou seek to know Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set Events, which, good or ill, foreknown, are woe? Onl bloody courses, the rude scene may end, Th' all-seeing power that made thee mortal, gave And darkness be the burier of the dead. "' Thee every thing a mortal state should have. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. The sun of all the world is dim and dark; ForeknowIedge only is enjoy'd by heaven; O heavy hearse! Break we our pipes that shrill'd as loud as lark, And, for his peace of nind, to man forbidden O careful -verse! Wretched were life if he foreknew his doom; SPENSER. Even joys foreseen give pleasing hope no room, And griefs assured are felt before they come. Those with whom I now converse DRYDEN. Without a tear will tend my hearse. SWIFT. In fortune's empire blindly thus we go, What awe did the slow solemn knell inspire, We wander after pathless destiny, The pealing organ, and the passing choir, Whose dark resorts since prudence cannot know, And the last words that "dust to dust" con- In vain it would provide for what shall be. vey'd! DRYDEN. TICKELL. Sure there is none but fears a future state; If you have kindness left, there see me laid; And when the most obdurate swear they do not, To bury decently the injured maid, Their trembling hearts belie their boastful Is all the favour. tongues. WALLER. DRYDEN. 2 8 FUTURITY - GAMB ING. Old prophecies foretell our fall at hand, Vex'd with the present moment's heavy gloom, When bearded men in floating castles land. Why seek we brightness from the years to come? DRYDEN. Disturb'd and broken like a sick man's sleep, Calchas, the sacred seer, who had in view Our troubled thoughts to distant prospects leap, Desirous still what flies us to o'ertake: Things present and the past, and things to come foreknew: For hope is but the dream of those that wake. foreknemw: PRI: Solon. Supreme of augurs. DRYDEN. Our reason prompts us to a future state, I still shall wait The last appeal from fortune and from fate, Scme new hereafter, and a future state. When God's all-righteous ways will be declared. PRIOR. DRYDENT. The spirit of deep prophecy she hath: O visions ill foreseen! Better had I What's past, and what's to come, she can descry. Lived ignorant of future! so had borne SHAKSPEARE. My part of evil only. pMaILTON. There is a history in all men's lives, Fig'ring the nature of the times deceased, Peace, brother! be not over-exquisite The which observed, a man may prophesy, To cast the fashion of uncertain evils. AWith a near aim, of.the main chance of things MILTON. As yet not come to life; which in their seeds Let no man seek what may befall:' And weak beginnings lie entreasured. Evil he may be sure. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Present to grasp, and future still to find, Oh, happy you, who, blest with present bliss, The whole employ of body and of mind. See not with fatal prescience future tears, POPE. Nor the dear. moment of enjoyment miss Through gloomy discontent, or sullen fears Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate; Through gloomy discontent, or sullen fears Foreboding many a storm for coming years, All but the page prescribed, their present state. Foreboding many a storm for coming years, POPE. MRS. TIGHE: Psyche.'rhe soul, uneasy and confined from home, Those comforts that shall never cease, R(ests and expatiates in a life to come. Future in hope, but present in belief. POPE. WOTTON. GAMBLING. But then my study was to cog the dice, And dcext'rously to throw the lucky sice: So might the heir, whose father hath, in play, To shun ames ace, that swept my stakes away, Wasted a thousand pounds of ancient rent, Wasted a thousand pounds of ancient rent, And watch the box, for fear they should convey By painful earning of one groat a day, False bones, and put upon me in the play. Hope to restore the patrimony spent. DRYDEN. SIR J. DAVIES. What more than madness reigns, This game, these carousals, Ascanius taught, When one short sitting many hundreds drains, And building Alba to the Latins brought. And not enough is left him to supply DRYDEN. Board-wages, or a footman's livery? They say this town is full of cozenage, DRYDEN. As nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, Bets at the first were fool-traps, where the wise Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, Like spiders lay in ambush for the flies. And many such like libertines of sin. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. GARDENS. 219 How can the muse her aid impart, She went forth among her fruits and flow'rs, Unskill'd in all the terms of art? To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom Or in harmonious numbers put Her nursery: they at her coming sprung, The deal, the shuffle, and the cut? And touch'd by her fair tendance gladlier grew. SWIFT. MILTON. The rapid current, which, through veins GARDENS. Of porous earth with kindly thirst updrawn, Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill The garden was inclosed within the square Where young Emilia took the morning air. Water'd the garden. MILTON DRYDEN. Plant it round with shade Well must the g-round be ligg'gd, and hetter Of laurel, evergreens, and branching plane. dress'd, MILTON. New soil to make, and meliorate the rest. DRYDEN. Early, ere the odorous breath of morn Awakes the slumbering leaves, or tassel'd horn Then let the learned gard'ner mark with care Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about The kinds of stocks, and what those kinds willanks, and isit ee Number my ranks, and visit every sprout. bear. MILTON. DRYDEN. When swelling buds their od'rous foliage sh~d, She stript the stalks of all their leaves; the best Aihen swelling huds their odrous foliage shed, She cull'd, and them with handy care she drest. And gently harden into fruit, the wise - DR1YDEN. Spare not the little offsprings, if they grow Redundant. For thee, large bunches load the bending vine, JOHN PHILIPS. And the last blessings of the year are thine. DRYDEN. His gardens next your admfiration call; On every side you look, behold the wall! MIy garden takes up half my daily care, No pleasing intricacies intervene, And my field asks the minutes I can spare. No artful wildness to perplex the scene; WALTERi 1HJARTE. Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, At first, in Rome's poor age, And half the platform just reflects the other; When both her kings and consuls held the The suffering eye inverted nature sees, plough, Trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees; Or garden'd well. BEN JONSON. With here a fountain never to be play'd, And there a summer-house that knows no shade. Adam! well may we labour still to dress This garden; still to tend plant, herb, and flow'r. MILTON. A wild where weeds and flow'rs promiscuous We lose the prime, to mark how springshoot, Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit. Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh and what the balmy reed. MILTON. The thriving plants, ignoble broomsticks made, Let us divide our labours: thou, where choice Now sweep those alleys they were made to shade. POPE. Leads thee, or where most needs; whether to wind A gushing fountain broke The woodbine round this arbour, or direct Around it, and above, forever green, The clasping ivy where to climb. The bushing alders form'd a shady scene. MILTON. POPE. They, looking back, all th' eastern side beheld The hook she bore Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, To lop the growth of the luxuriant year, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate To decent form the lawless shoots to bring, With. dreadful faces throng'd, and fiery arms. And teach th' obedient branches where to spring. MILTON. POPE. 220 GARDES.- GENIVIUS. A waving glow his bloomy beds display, The gentle shepherd sat beside a spring, Blushing in bright diversities of day. All in the shadow of a bushy brier. POPE. SPENSER. Happy you! At once, array'd Whose charms as far all other nymphs' outshine In all the colours of the flushing year, As others' gardens are excell'd by thine. The garden glows. POPE. THOMSON. Is't not enough to break into my garden, The finish'd garden to the view Climbing my walls, in spite of me the owner? Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. SHAKSPEARE. THOMSON, I will go root away Embroider'd so with flowers it had stood, The noisome weeds, that without profit suck That it became a garden of a wood. The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. WALLER. SHAI(SPEARE. All with a border of rich fruit trees crown'd, I am arrived from fruitful Lombardy, Whose loaded branches hide the lofty mound: The pleasant garden of great Italy. Such various ways the spacious alleys lead, SHAKSPEARE. My doubtful muse knows not what path to tread. WALLER. Nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. GENIUS. SHAKSPEARE. Time, place, and action may with pains be Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens, wrought, Which one day bloom'd and fruitful were the But genius must be born, and never can be next. taught. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. The garden of Proserpine this hight, A happy genius is the gift of nature. And in the midst thereof a silver seat, DRYDEN. With a thick arbour goodly overdight, In. which she often used from open heat And the tame demon that should guard my Herself to shroud, and pleasures to entreat. throne SPENSER. Shrinks at a genius greater than his own. DRYDEN. Seest not thilk hawthorn stud, How bragly it begins to bud, To your glad genius sacrifice this day; And utter his tender head? Let common meats respectfully give way. Flora now calleth forth each flow'r, DRYDEN. And bids him make ready Maia's bow'r. One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit: Over him, art striving to compare Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before With nature, did an arbour green dispread, By vain ambition still to make them more. Framed of wanton ivy, flowing fair, POPE: Essay on C0iticism. Through which the fragrant eglantine did spread, There is none but he His pricking arms entrail'd with roses red. V Whose being I do fear: and under him, SPENSER. My genius is rebuked; as it is said Then he arriving, round about doth fly Antony's was by Casar. SHAKSPEARE. From bed to bed, from one to other border; And takes survey, with curious busy eye, The genius and the mortal instruments Of ev'ry flower and herb there set in order. Are then in council. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. GEIVNTZLEMiAV. - GETZVTEES- I GL ORE Y 22 I GENTLE MAN. Glory, like the dazzling eagle, stood Perch'd on my bever in the Granic flood; You say a long-descended race sak gentlemen, andd that your high degree When fortune's self my standard trembling bore, Makes gentlemen, and that your high degree Maks.uch disparaged o be mstch' And the pale fates stood frighted on the shore. Is much disparaged to be match'd with me. LEE. DIRYDEN.L All our glory extinct, and happy state, I am a gentleman. Here swallow'd up in endless misery. I'll be sworn thou art! MILTON. Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, action, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon. For what is glory but the blaze of fame, SHAKSPEARE. The people's praise, if always praise unmixt? MILTON. I am a gentleman of blood and breeding. SHIAKSPEARE. Glory, like time, progression does require; When it does cease t' advance, it does expire. I freely told you all the wealth I had LORD ORRERY. Ran in my veins; I was a gentleman. SHARSPEARE. Transported demi-gods stood round, And men grew heroes at the sound, A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, Inflamed with glory's charms. Framed in the prodigality of nature, POPE. The spacious world cannot again afford. 0 greatly bless'd with ev'ry blooming grace! SHAKCSPEARE. With equal steps the paths of glory trace. POPE. GENTLENESS. Abstract what others feel, what others think, All pleasures sicken, and all glories sink. Your brave and haughty scon of allPOPE. Was stately and monarchical; All gentleness with that esteem'd He safe return'd, the race of glory past, -A dull and slavish virtue seem'd. New to his friends' embrace, had breathed his COWLEY. last. POPE. The gentlest heart on earth is proved unkind. Who pants for glory finds but short repose, FAIRFAX. A breath revives him, and a breath o'erthrows. POPE. Sweet speaking oft a currish heart reclaims. SIDNEY. Vanquish again; though she be gone Whose garland crown'd the victor's hair, The gentleness of all the gods go with thee. And reign, though she had left the throne, Who made thy glory worth thy care. PRIOR. GLORY. Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, And glory long has made the sages smile; Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, SHAISPEARE. - - wind- Yet let them look they glory not in mischief, Depending more upon the historian's style Nor build their evils on the graves of great men: Than on the name a person leaves behind. Than on the name a person leaves behind. For then my guiltless blood must cry against BYRON. them. My glories are past danger; they're full-blown: Things that are blasted are but in the bud. I have ventured, SIR J. DENHAM. Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, If glory was a lbait that angels swallow'd, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride How then should souls allied to sense resist it? At length brole under me. DRYDEN: Aurengzebe. I SHAKSPEARE. 222 G OR Y. G OD. Unworthy wretch, quoth he, of so great grace, Of himself is none; How dare I think such glory'to attain? But that eternal Infinite, and one, Those that have it attain'd were in like case, Who never did begin, who ne'er can end, Quoth he, as wretched, and lived in like pain. On him all beings, as their source, depend. SPENSER. DRYDEN. Shames not to be with guiltless blood defiled; Where'er thou art, He is; th' eternal Mind She taketh glory in her cruelness. Acts through all places; is to none confined; SPENSER. Fills ocean, earth, and air, and all above, And through the universal mass does move. Yet the stout fairy,'mongst the middest crowd, DRYDEN. Thought all their glory vain in knightly view, And that great princess too, exceeding proud, Though no I am, I was not always so: Though now I am, I was not always so: That to strange knight no better countenance ~~~allow'dc~. ~Then that firom which I was must be before, allow'd. SPENSER. Whom, as my spring of being, I adore. DRYDEN. Real glory Springs from the quiet conquest of ourselves; Thy throne is darkness, in th' abyss of light; And without that the conqueror is nought A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. But the first slave. 0 teach me to believe Thee thus conceal'd, THOMSON: Sopphonisba. And search no farther than Thyself reveal'd. Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, DRYDEN. But, look'd too near, have neither heat nor light, While these limbs the vital spirit feeds, WEBSTER: Duch/ess of MJaifyl. While day to night, and night to day, succeeds, Burnt-off'rings morn and evening shall be Thine, To glory some advance a lying claim, And fires eternal ip Thy temples shine. Thieves of renown, and pilferers of fame. DRYDEN. YOUNG. From Thee, great God, we spring, to Thee we tend, GOD. Path, motive, guide, original, and end. DR. S. JOHNSON: Rrambler. Since the world's wide frame does not include To th' infinitely Good we owe A cause with such capacities endued, Immlllortal thanks; and His admonishment Some other cause o'er nature must preside. Receive, with solemn purpose to observe SIR R. BLACKMORE. SIR R. BLA RE Immutably His sovereign will, the end Reach th' Almighty's sacred throne, Of what we are. And make his causeless pow'r the cause of all MILTON. things known. Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd SIR R. BLACIKMORE. All heaven, and in the blessed spirits elect But, O! thou bounteous Giver of all good, Sense of new joy ineffable infused. Thou art, of all thy gifts, Thyself the crown! MILTON. Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are God into the hands of their deliverer poor, Puts invincible might, And with Thee rich, take what thou wilt away. To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor,COWvPER. The brute and boist'rous force of violent men. MILTON. To that great spring which doth great kingdoms.move, All these with ceaseless praise his works behold, The sacred spring whence right and honour Both day and night. MILTON. streams; Distilling virtue, shedding peace and love God, to remove his ways from human sense, In every place, as Cynthia sheds her beams. Placed heav'n from earth so far. SIR J. DAVIES. MILTON. GOD. —GOLD. 223 Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King GOLD. Only omniscient, hath suppress'd in night. For gold the merchant ploughs the main, MILTON. The farmer ploughs the manor. BURNS. To attain The height and depth of thy eternal ways, The plague of gold strikes far and near,All human thoughts come short, supreme of And deep and strong it enters; things. Our thoughts grow blank, our words grow MILTON. strange, We cheer the pale gold-diggers,God will dei~gn Each soul is worth so much on'change, To visit oft the dwellings of just men, And mark'd, like sheep, with figures. Delighted, and with frequent intercourse MRs. BROWNING. Thither will send his winged messengers Thou more than stone of the philosopher! On errands of supernal grace. MILTON. Thou touchstone of Philosophy herself! Thou bright eye of the Mine! thou loadstar In human works, though labour'd on with pain, Of the Soul! thou true magnetic Pole, to which A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain; All hearts point duly north, like trembling In God's, one single can its ends produce, needles! Yet serves to second too some other use. BYRON. POPE. Gray-headed infant, and in vain grown old! Art thou to learn that in another's gold Nor God alone in the still calm we find; n the st alLie charms resistless? that all laugh to find He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind. POPE. Unthinking plainness so o'erspread thy mind. CREECHI. Father of all! in every age, Fatherofallin every age, Gold is the strength, the sinews of the world; In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sagre,- The health, the soul, the beauty most divine; Jehovah, Jove, or Lord. A mask of gold hides all deformities; POPE. Gold is heaven's physic, life's restorative. DECKER. Thou sov'reign pow'r, whose secret will controls Now cursed steel, and more accursed gold, The inward bent and motion of our souls! Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief Why hast thou placed such infinite degrees old; Between the cause and cure of my disease? double death did wretched And double death did wretched man invade, PRIOR. By steel assaulted, and by gold betray'd. No muffling clouds, nor shades infernal, can DRYDEN. From his inquiry hide offending man. His countenance did imprint an awe, SANDYS. And naturally all souls.to his did bow;07; As wands of divination downward draw, The silent vaults of death, unknown to light, And point to beds where sov'reign gold doth And hell itself, lie naked to his sight. grow. SANDYS. DRYDEN.'Tis gold so pure If anly strength we have, it is to ill; It cannot bear the stamp without alloy. But all the good is God's, both power and eke DRYDEN. will. SPENSER. Why wouldst thou go, with one consent they cry, When thou hast gold enough, and Emily? Great God of might, that reigneth in the mind, DRYDEN. And all the body to thy hest dost frame; Because its blessings are abused, Victor of gods, subduer of mankind, Must gold be censured, cursed, accused? That dost the lion and fell tiger tame, Even virtue's self by knaves is made Who can express the glory of thy might? A cloak to carry on the trade. SPENSER. GAY. 224 GOID.-GOOD. To purchase heaven has gold the power? Bless'd paper credit! Can gold remove the mortal hour? Gold, imp'd with this, can compass hardest In life can love be bought with gold? things, Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? Can pocket states, or fetch or carry kings. No! all that's worth a wish-a thought- POPE. Fair virtue gives, unbribed, unbought. How quickly nature Cease then on trash thy hopes to hind: Falls into revolt, when gold becomes her object! Let nobler views engage thy mind. For this the foolish, over-careful fathers DR. S. JOHNSON. Have broke their sleep with thought, their For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws; brains with care, For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws; Their bones with industry; Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth nor safety For this they have engross'd and piled up buys; The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold; The dangers gather as the treasures rise. For this they have been thoughtful to invest DR. S. JOHNSON. Their sons with arts and martial exercises. SHAKSPEARE. The earth hath lost Most of her ribs, as entrails; being now There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls, Wounded no less for marble than for gold. Doing more murther in this loathsome world BEN JONSON. Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand sell: Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold. I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. MILTON. MILTON. SSHARSPEARE. Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life? Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife. Would tempt into a close exploit of death? POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Useful, we grant; it serves what life requires, Plate sin with gold, But dreadful, too, the dark assassin hires. And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks: POPE. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. The starving chynzist in his golden views SHAKSPEARE. Supremely blest. Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine? POPE. Can we dig peace, or wisdom, from the mine? For Indian spices, for Peruvian gold, Wisdom to gold prefer: for'tis much less Prevent the greedy, and outbid the bold. To make our fortune than our happiness. POPE. YOUNG. Judges and senates have been bought for gold; Esteem and love were never to be sold. GOOD. POPE. What's good doth open to th' inquirers stand, Trade it may help, society extend, And itself offers to th' accepting hand. But lures the pirate, and corrupts the friend; SIR J. DENHAM. It raises armies in a nation's aid, Look round the habitable world, how few But bribes a senate, and a land's betray'd. Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue POPE. DRYDEN. Troy flamed in burnish'd gold; and o'er the Though sparing of his grace, to mischief bent, throne, He seldom does a good with good intent. ARMS AND THE MAN in golden ciphers shone. DRYDEN. PoPE.- Nor holds this earth a more deserving knight The train prepare a cruise of curious mould, For virtue, valour, and for noble blood, A cruise of fragrance, form'd of burnish'd gold. Truth, honour, all that is comprised in good. POPE. DRYDEN. GOOD. 225 Happy were men if they but understood All discord, harmony not understood; There is no safety but in doing good. All partial evil, universal good. JOHN FOUNTAIN. POPE. The sweetest cordial we receive at last, Stranger to civil and religious rage, Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. The good man walk'd innoxious through his age. Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. POPE. GOFFE. Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame. And learn the luxury of doing good. POPE. GOLDSMITH: Traveeller. Can the wiles of art, the grasp of power, No further intercourse with Heav'n had he, Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? But left good works to men of low degree. These, when the trembling spirit wings his WALTER HARTE. flight, Goodness is beauty in its best estate. Pour round his path a stream of living light, MARLOWE. And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest Where virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest. Good, the more S. ROGERS. Communicated, more abundant grows; The author not impair'd, but honour'd more. But I remember now MILTON. I'm in this earthly world, where to do harm Is often laudable; to do good, sometime Little knows Accountedk dangerous folly. Any, but God alone, to value right SHAKSPEARE. The good before him, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. That light you see is buning in my hall; -MIL TON. IHow far that little-candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. My heart SHAKSPEARE. Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. MII TON. One good deed, dying tongueless, Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. So shall the world go on, SHAKSPEARE. To good malignant, to bad men benign, We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind, Under her own weight groaning. MILTON. That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff, And good from bad find no partition. Worthiest by being good, SHAKSPEARE. Far more than great or high. MILTON. For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, But to the earth some special good doth give. O goodness! that shall evil turn to good. SHARSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Wisest and best men full oft beguiledWith goodness principled not to reject SHAOSPEARE. SHAKSPEAREo The penitent, but ever to forgiveAre drawn to wear out miserable days. Howe'er it be, it seems to me MILTON.'Tis only noble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that And simple faith than Norman blood. seem'd TENNYSON. Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, Some there are Yet empty of all good. By their good deeds exalted, lofty minds, And meditative authors of delight Th' eternal art educes good from ill; And happiness, which to the end of time Grafts on this passion our best principle. Will live and spread and flourish. POPE. WORDSWORTH. 15 226 G OD HUMlO UR.-G O VER:NM7ENT. Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: The quacks of government, who sat Who does the best his circumstance allows At th' unregarded helm of state, Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more. Consider'd timely how t' withdraw, YOUNG: Nizgzt Togou/gts. And save their windpipes from the law. BUTLER: H-zdilbvas.'Tis no less To govern justly, make your empire flourish GOOD H.UM~b~OU R. VWith wholesome laws, in riches, peace, and Tempt not his heavy hand; plenty, But one submissive word which you let fall Than by the expense of wealth and blood to Will make him in good humour with us all. make DRYDEN. New acquisitions. SIR J. DENHAM. While he survives, in concord and content Calmness is great advantage: he that lets The commons live, by no division rent The commons live, by no division rent; Another chafe, may warm him at his fire, But the great monarch's death dissolves the.Mark all his wand'rings, and enjoy his frets; government. As cunning fencers suffer heat to tire. DRYDEN. HERBERT. In change of government The rabble rule their great oppressors' fate, And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose? KE And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose? Do sov'reign justice, and revenge the state. And trust me, dear, good humour can prevail When airs, and flights, and screams, and scold- Born to the spacious empire of the Nine, ing fail. One would have thought she should have been Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll, content Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. To manage well that mighty government. POPE: Raipe of the Lock. DRYDEN. For just experience tells, in ev'ry soil, Good humour only teaches charms to last,, m n s, That those who think must govern those who Still makes new conquests, and maintains the; past. POPE. And all that freedom's highest aims can reach Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each. tOh! bless'd with temper whose unclouded ray GOLDSMITH: Trlveleir. Call make to-morrow cheerful as to-day. In ev'ry government, though terrors reign, POPE. Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain,'But since, alas! frail beauty must decay, That part which laws or Icings can cause or cure Cuil'dl or uncurl'd since lockls will turn to gray, That part hicl laws or ings can cause or cure What then remasincs but weloll tour por to ruse, Still to ourselves in every place consign'd, What then remains but well our pow'r to use, And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose? Our own felicity we make or find. POPE. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.'He keeps his temper'd mind, serene and pure, DR. S. JOHNSON: And ev'ry passion aptly harmonized, in GoldslzitA's Traveller. Amid a jarring world. THOMSON Men divinely taught, and better teaching The solid rules of civil government, In their majestic, unaffected style, Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome.. GOVERNMENT. MILTON. In a commonwealth or realm He that resists the power of Ptolemy The government is call'd the helm; Resists the pow'r of heav'n; for pow'r from With which, like vessels under sail, heav'n They're turn'd and winded by the tail. Derives, and monarchs rule by gods appointed. BUTLER:.irSl'ibr ls. PRIOR. G 0 VERMET. - GRA CE.- GRA CEEFUL. 2 27 For government Telemachus his bloomy face Put into parts, cloth keep in one consent, Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace. Congreeing in a full and natural close., POPE. SHAK-SPEARE. More than mortal grace Take on you the charge Speaks the descendant of ethereal race. And kingly government of this your land: POPE. Not as protector, steward, substitute, Blest peer! his great forefather's ev'ry grace Or lowly factor for another's gain. SHAPEOr lowly factor for aother's giReflecting, and reflected in his face. SHAKSPEARE. POPIE. A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, How Van wants grace that never wanted wit. That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the POPE. crown. crown. SPEARE. 0 momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! All happy peace and goodly government SHAKSPEARE. Is settled there in sure establishment. see el SPENSERtNor lose the good advantage of his grace, By seeming cold or careless of his will. Safety and equal government are things SHAKSPEARE. Which subjects make as happy as their kings. ZWAILER. Though all things foul would bear the brows of grace, Those governments which curb not evils, cause; Yet grace must still look so. And a rich knave's a libel on our laws. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG. In his own grace he doth exalt himself More than in your advancement. GRACE. SHAKSPEARE. Though various features did the sisters grace, Let me report to him A sister's likeness was in every face. Your sweet dependency, and you shall find ADDISON. A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, When he for grace is kneel'd to. Jove cannot fear; they tell me to my face, When he for grace is kneeld to. SHAKSPEARE. That I of all the gods am least in grace. DRYDEN. Great grace that old man to him given had, The mother's and her eldest daughter's grace, For God he often saw, from heaven hight, It seems, had bribed him to prolong their space. All were earthly eyen both blunt and bad. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Lo! two most lovely virgins came in place, And shall grace not find means, that finds her With countenance demure, and modest grace. The speediest of thy winged messengers, SPENSER. The speediest of thy winged messengers, To visit all thy creatures? MILTON. GRACEFUL. This my long-suffering and my day of grace, Turnus, for high descent and graceful mien, Those who neglect and scorn shall never taste. Was first, and favour'd by the Latian queen. MILTON. DRYDEN. Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace Then grave Clarissa graceful waved her fan; Attend thee, and each word, each motion, form. Silence ensued, and thus the nymph began. MILTON. POPE. Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, Through nature and through art she ranged, In ev'ry gesture dignity and love! And gracefully her subject changed. MILTON. SWIFT. 228 GRA CES.- GRA T-ITUDE. Graceful to sight, and elegant to thought, You seem not high enough your joys to rate; The great are vanquish'd, and the wise are You stand indebted a vast sunm to fate, taught. And should large thanks for the great blessing YOUNG. pay. DRYDEN. GRACES. The blue-eyed German shall the Tigris drink, Ere I, forsaking gratitude and truth, All those graces Forget the figure of that godlike youth. The common fate of'mortal charms may find; DRYDEN. Content our short-lived praises to engage, The joy and wonder of a single age. Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace, ADDISON. Nor length of time our gratitude efface. DRYDEN. To some kind of men, Their graces serve them but as enemies. Suspicious thoughts his pensive mind employ, SHAKSPEARE. A sullen gratitude, and clouded joy. WALTER HARTE. The king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temp'rance, stableness, When gratitude o'erflows the swelling heart, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, And breathes in free and uncorrupted praise I have no relish of them. For benefits received: propitious heaven SHAKSPEARE. Takes such acknowledgment as fragrant incense, And doubles all its blessings. Mark when she smiles with amiable cheer, LILLO: Elzeiick. And tell me whereto can ye liken it? When on each eyelid sweetly do appear He that hath nature in him must be grateful; An hundred graces as in shade to sit.'Tis the Creator's primary great law SPENSER. That links the chain of beings to each other. MADDEN: Themistocles. GRATITUDE. The debt immense of endless gratitude. MILTON. Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat I understood not that a grateful mind Can move or warp, and gratitude for small By owing owes not, but still pays, at once And trivial favours, lasting as the life Indebted and discharged. And glist'ning even in the dying eye. MILTON. COWPER: Task. Could he less expect Years of service past Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks? From grateful souls exact reward at last. MILTON. DRYDEN. Fountain of mercy! whose pervading eye Is no return due from a grateful breast? Can look within and read what passes there, I grow impatient, till I find some way, Accept my thoughts for thanks; I have no Great.offices with greater to repay. words: DRYDEN. My soul, o'erfraught with gratitude, rejects The aid of language: Lord! —behold my heart. /If you have lived, take thankfully the past; HANNAH MORE: IMoses. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last. DRYDEN. Indeed you thank'd me: but a nobler gratitude Rose in her soul, for from that hour she loved Tell me, my fi-iend, from whence hadst thou me. the skill me. OTWAY. So nicely to distinguish good from ill? And what thou art to follow, what to fly, One grateful woman to thy fame supplied This to condemn, and that to ratify? What a whole thankless land to his denied. DRYDEN. POPE. GRA VyES. - GREA TWNESS. 2 29 Edward and Henry, now the boast of fame; Household gifts that memory saves And virtuous Alfred, a more sacred name; But help to count the household graves. After a life of generous toil endured, T. K. HERVEY. Closed their long glories with a sigh, to find Oh! let not tears embalm my tomb, Th' unwilling gratitude of base manklind. POPE. None but the dews by twilight given! Oh! let not sighs disturb the gloom, What can I pay thee for this noble usage None but the whispering winds of heaven, But grateful praise! so heav'n itself is paid. MOORE. ROWE: Taivtelaane. Sing, while beside the shaded tomb I mourn, We owe thee much: within this wall of flesh And with fresh bays her ural shrine adorn. And with fresh bays her rural shrine adorn. There is a soul counts thee her creditor, POPE. And with advantage means to pay thy love. SIIAKSPEARE. The grave, where ev'n the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppress'd. I've heard of hearts unlkind, kind deeds POPE. With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Who in the dark and silent grave, Hath oftener left me mourning. When we have wander'd all our ways, WORDSWORTH. Shuts up the story of our days! — ~:>O<> —- But from this earth, this grave, this dust, ~~GRAVES.~ n ~My God shall raise me up, I trust! SIR W. RALEIGH. Here's an acre sown indeed With the richest, royal'st seed That the earth did e'er suck ill Since the first man died of sin: GREATNESS. EHere are sandls, ignoble things, Great souls by instinct to each other turn, Dropt from the ruin'd sides of kings. Demand alliance, and in friendship burn. BEAUMONT: ADDISON: Ca}nazg n. On the Tombs in WIestmzinzster Abbey. In care they live, and must for many care; He suffer'd their protractive arts, And such the best and greatest ever are. And strove by mildness to reduce their hearts. LoRD 13BROOKE. DRYDEN. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's The greatest chief shade, That ever peopled hell with heroes slain, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering Or plunged a province or a realm in grief. BYRON. heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, Where may the wearied eye repose The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. When gazing on the great, GRAY: Elegy. Where neither guilty glory glows, Fond fool! six feet shall serve for all thy store; Nor despicable state? And he that cares for most shall find no more. Yes, one-the first-the last-the bestBISHOP HALL: Satires. The Cincinnatus of the West, Whom envy dared not hateBlest are they Blest are they Bequeathed the name of Washington, That earth to earth intrust; for they may knowas but oe. w To make men blush there was but one. And tend the dwelling whence the slumberer's BYRON. clay Shall rise at last, and bid the young flowers He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find bloom, Their loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and That waft a breath of hope around the tomb, snow; And kneel upon the dewy turf and pray! He who surpasses or subdues mankind MRS. HEMANS. Must look down on the hate of those below. 230 GREA TVNESS. Though far above the sun of glory glow, All greatness is in virtue understood; And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,'Tis only necessary to be good. Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow DRYDEN. Contending tempests on his naked head. His sweetness won a more regard BYRONT: (C'zilde Har0old. L.Unto his place, than all the boist'rous moods The slippery tops of human state, That ignorant greatness practiseth. The gilded pinnacles of fate. BEN JONSON. COWLEY. Lives of great men all remind us If e'er ambition should my fancy cheat We can make our lives sublime, With any wish so mean, as to be great, Ant, departing, leave behind us Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove Footprints ol the sands of time. The humble blessings of the life I love. LONGFELLOW: Psalm of'Life. COWLEY. Great Blinded greatness ever iln turmoil, (~Or bright infers not excellence: the earth, Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil. Though, in comparison of heav'n, so small, DANIEL. Nor glistering, may of solid good contain More plenty than the sun, that barren shines. Though he in all the people's eyes seem'd great, MILTON. Yet greater he appear'd in his retreat. Of all the great how few SIR J. DENHAM. Are just to heav'n, and to their promise true! WThile winds and storms his lofty forehead beat, POPE. The common fate of all that's high or great. He dies, sad outcast of each church and state, SIR J. DENHAM. And, harder still, flagitious, yet not great. These are they POPE. Deserve their greatness and unenvied stand, Despise the farce of state, Since what they act transcends what they The sober follies of the wise and great. command. POPE. SIR J. DENHAM. But grant that those can conquer, these can Injurious strength would rapine still excuse cheat; By off'ring terms the weaker must refuse.'Tis phrase absurd to gcall a villain great: DRYDEN. Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, The great are privileged alone Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. To punish all injustice but their own. POPE. DRYDEN. At home surrounded by a servile crowd, Thus, by degrees, he rose to Jove's imperial Prompt to abuse, and in detraction loud; seat; Abroad begirt with men, and swords, and spears,'s.e.t. His very state acknowledging his fears. Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great. PRIOR. DRYDEN. I will, alas! be wretched to be great, When often urged, unwilling to be great, 1_3~ >, And sigh in royalty, and grieve in state. Your country calls you from your loved retreat, PRIOR. And sends to senates, charged with common care, Their purple majesty, Which none more shuns, and none can better And all those outward shows which xe call bear. greatness, DRYDEN. Languish and droop, seem empty and forsaken, He observed th' illustrious throng, And draw the wond'ring gazer's eye no more. Their names, their fates, their conduct, and their care As if Misfortune made the throne her seat, In peaceful senates and successful war. And none could be unhappy hut the great. DRYDEN. ROWE: Prologue to PFair Penitent. GRE-A JTNESS.- GRIE. 231 O place and greatness, millions of false eyes'Tis not from whom, but where, we live; Are stuck upon thee! volumes of report The place does oft those graces give: Run with these false and most contrarious guests Great Julius, on the mountain bred, Upon thy doings! thousand'scapes of wit A flock perhaps, or herd, had led; Make thee the father of their idle dream, He that the world subdued had been And rack thee in their fancies. But the best wrestler on the green. SHAKISPEARE. WALLER. O ceremony! show me but thy worth! Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, What is thy soul of adoration? And every conqueror creates a muse. Art thou aught else, but place, degree, and form, WALLER: 0Z C'oomIWeill Creating awe and fear in other men? High stations tumults, but not bliss create: Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd None think the great unhappy but the great. Than they in fearing. YOUNG: Love of.Fame. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? SHAKSPEARE. GRIEF. O be sick, great Greatness! Now secretly with inward grief he pined; And bid thy ceremony give thee cure. Now warm resentments to his griefs he join'd.' Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out With titles blown from adulation? SHAKSPEARE.' Wonder at my patience! Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast, O hard condition! twin-born with greatness, To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted? Subject to the breath of ev'ry fool, whose sense ADDISON. No more can feel but his own wringing! What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect, By fits my swelling grief appears That private men enjoy! In rising sighs and falling tears. And what have kings, that privates have not too, ADDISON. Save ceremony, save general ceremony?'SHASPEARE. Ev'n now, while thus I stand blest in thy presSHAKSPEARE. ence, But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, A secret damp of grief comes o'er my thoughts. Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. Didst thou taste but half the griefs They that stand high have many blasts to shake That wring my soul, thou couldst not talk thus them; coldly. And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. For Titan, by the mighty loss dismay'd, It is great Among the heav'ns th' immortal fact display'd, To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Lest the remembrance of his grief should fail. Which shackles accident, and bolts up change. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. I S~Where shall we find the man that bears afflicHe by my ruin thinks to make them great: tion, To make one great by other's loss, is bad excheat. Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato? SPENSER. ADDISON. Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care, And all that else this world's enclosure bare A burden more than I can bear A burden more than I can bear; Hath great or glorious in mortal eye, 9, ~I sit me down and sigh. Adorns the person of her majesty. 0 l SPENSER. O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, The world knows nothing of its greatest men. To wretches such as I. HENRY TAYLOR. BURNS. 232 GRIEF. There is no darkness like the cloud of mind On a bankl, beside a willow, On grief's vain eye-the blindest of the blind, H- eav'n her cov'ring, earth her pillow, Which may not, dare not see, but turns aside Sad Amynta sigh'd alone, To blackest shade, nor will endure a guide. From the cheerless dawn of morning BYRON: CoorsziJ. Till the dews of night returning. DRYDEN. Upon her face there was the tint of grief, The settled shadow of an inward strife, He finds no respite from his anxious grief, And an unquiet drooping of the eye, Then seeks from his soliloquy relief. As if its lid were charged with unshed tears. GARTH. BYRON:./)teail.'Tis long ere time can mitigate your grief; Alas! the breast that inly bleeds To wisdom fly, she quickly brings relief. Has nought to fear from outward blow: GROTIUS. Who falls from all he knows of bliss We knowT Cares little into what abyss. There oft is found an avarice in grief, BYRON: Gitgoztr. And the wan eye of sorrow loves to gaze Those closing skies may still continue bright, Upon its secret hoard of treasured woes But who can help it if you'll make it night. And pine in solitude. DRYDEN. MASON. Alas! I have no words to tell my grief; There is a calm when Grief o'erflows, To vent my sorrow would be some relief; A.refuge fron the worst of woes; Light sufferings give us leisure to complain; It comes when Pleasure's dream is o'er, We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain. And Hope, the charmer, charms no more. DRYDEN.'Tis where the heart is wrung till dry,'Twas grief no more, or grief and rage were one And not a tear bedews the eye; Within her soul: at last'twas rage alone;'Tis where we see the vacant gaze, Which, burning upwards in succession, dries While not a smile the lip betrays. MOORE. The tears that stood considering in her eyes. WD.hat plague is greater than the grief of mind,D)RYDEN. The grief of mind that eats in every vein, I'm stupefied with sorrow, past relief In every vein that leaves such clods behind; Of tears; parch'cd up and wither'd with my grief. Such clods behind as breed such bitter pain, DRYDEN. Such bitter pain that none shall ever find, Like Niobe we marble grow, What plague is greater than the grief of mind? And petrify with grief. EARL OF OXFORD. DRYDEN. Since both cannot possess what both pursue, Prest with heart-corroding grief and years, Since both cannot possess what both pursue, To the gay court a rural shed prefers. I'm grieved, my friend, the chance should fall POTr. POPE. on you. DRYDEN. I oft, in bitterness of soul, deplored He cannot his unmaster'd grief sustain, My absent daughter, and my dclearer lord. But yields to rage, to madness, and disdain. POPE. DRYDEN. My heavy eyes, you say, confess The father bore it with undaunted soul, A heart to love and grief inclined. Like one who durst his destiny control; PRIOR. Yet with becoming grief he bore his part, r w1-ed up in grief, call pleasure be our theme? Resign'd his son, but not resign'd his heart. ur DRrYDEN. OU1r endless anguish does not nature claim? Reason and sorrow are to us the same. The father's grief restrain'd his art; PRIOR. He twice essay'd to cast his son in gold, Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming Cease, man of woman born, to hope relief mould. From daily trouble, and continued grief. DRYDEN. PRIOR. GRIE. 233 I have endured the rage of secret grief, Know, then, I here forget all former griefs, A malady that burns and rankles inward. Cancel all grudge: repeal thee.home again. ROWE. SHAKSPEARE. Then happy those, since each must drain You may my glory and my state depose, His share of pleasure, share of pain,- But not my griefs; still I am king of those. Then. happy those, beloved of Heaven, SHAKSPEARE. To whom the mingled cup is given, Whose lenient sorrows find relief, Whose joys are chasten'd by their grief. Whose joys are chastendcl hy their grief. And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand, SIR WALTER SCOTT.'Hath written strange defeatures in my face. SHAKSPEARE. Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit. The violence of either grief or joy, SHARKSPEARE. Their own enactors with themselves destroy. SHAKSPEARE. To persevere In obstinate condolement, is a course Whilst you were here, o'erwhelmed with your Of impious stubbornness, unmanly grief. grief, SHAKSPEARE. A passion most unsuiting such a man. SHAKSPEARE. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; And study help for that which thou lament'st. Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament, SHAKSPEARE. Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. SHAKSPEARE. The robb'd that smiles, steals something from I do feel I do feel, the thief; By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. My very heart. My very heart. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Then might'st thou tear thy hair, What's the newest grief? And fall upon the ground as I do now, Each mlimLlte teems a new one. Taking the measure of an unmade grave. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. What concern they? 0 Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my wits. The general cause? or is it a fee-grief SHAKSPEARE. Due to some single breast? SHAKSPEARE. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Be factious for redress of all these griefs, Which thou wilt propagate, to have them press'd And I will set this foot of mine as far With more of thine. As who goes farthest. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Woe to poor man, each outward thing annoys If thou engrossest all the grief as thine, him; Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He heaps in inward grief, that most destroys him. SHAKSPEARE. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. These external manners of laments What torment's equal to the grief of mind Are merely shadows to the unseen grief And pining anguish hid in gentle heart, That swells with silence in the tortured soul. That inly feeds itself with thought unkind, And nourishes its own consuming smart? Conceit is still derived SPENSER. From some forefather grief: mine is not so. SHAKSPEARE. She (sighing sore, as if her heart in twaine Had riven been, and all her heart-strings brast) I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; With dreary drooping eyne look'd up, like one For grief is proud, and makes. his owner stout. aghast. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. 234 GRO VES.- G UIL T. Quoth she, Great grief will not be told, GUILT. And can more easily be thought than said; Let guilt or fear Right so, quoth he, but he that never would, Disturb man's rest; Cato knows neither of Could never; will to might gives greatest aid. them: Indifferent in his choice to sleep or die. What boots it to weep and to wayment, ADDISON. When ill is chanced, but doth the ill increase, And oh! that pang where more than madness And the weak mind with double woe torment? lies! SPENSER. The worm that will not sleep, and never dies; Thought of the gloomy day and ghastly night, Such helpless harms it's better hidden keep, Tho t of the gloomy day and ghastly night, Than rip up grief, where it may not avail. That dreads the darkness, and yet loathes the Than rip up grief, where it may not avail.. SPENSER. light; That winds around and tears the quivering heart: GROVES. Ah, wherefore not consume it and depart? In groves we live, and lie on mossy beds, BYRON. By crystal streams that murmur through the Not all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay, meads. Nor florid prose, nor honied words of rhyme, DRYDEN. Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime. Stretch'd at ease you sing your happy loves, BYRON: C/tilde Hanold. And Amaryllis fills the shady groves. Guilt is a timorous thing; ere perpetration, DRYDEN. Despair alone makes guilty men be bold. COLERIDGE. Betwixt two rows of rocks a sylvan scene Appears above, and groves forever green. Sure if the guilt were theirs, they could not DRYDEN. charge thee With such a gallant boldness; if t'were thine, With deeper brown the grove was overspread. t, Thou couldst not hear't with such a silent DRYDEN. scorn! The deep recesses of the grove he gain'd.DENHAM. DRYDEN. Try to imprison the resistless wind; So swift is guilt, so hard to be confined. With shadowy verdure flourish'd high,RYDEN. A sudden youth the groves enjoy. FENTON. My hands are guilty, but my heart is free. DRYDEN. Groves whose rich trees wept od'rous gums and balm. My guilt thy growing virtues did defame; RM/ILTON. My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. In shady bow'rDRYDEN. More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, Ambitious Turnus in the press appears, Pan or Sylvanus never slept. And aggravating crimes augment their fears. MILTON. DRYDEN. All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair; Nor could his acts too close a vizard wear The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air. To'scape their eyes whom guilt had taught to POPE. fear. DRYDEN. Hei' waving groves a checker'd scene display, a state is guilt And part admit, and part exclude, the day. POPE. When ev'ry thing alarms it! like a sentinel Who sleeps upon his watch, it wakes in dread, The senseless grove feels not your pious sorrows. Ev'n at a breath of wind. ROWE. HAVARD: Scanderbeg-. G UL T. -HA BIT. — HA R. 235 How guilt, once harbour'd in the conscious Make known, breast, It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, Intimidates the brave, degrades the great! That hath deprived me. DR. JOHNSON: Irene. SHAKSPEARE. WVhen men's intents are wicked, their guilt All-murders past do stand excused in this,haunts them; And this so sole, and so unmatchable, But when they're just, they're arm'd, and Shall prove a ceacly bloodshed but a jest, nothing daunts them. Exampled by this heinous spectacle. MIDDLETON. SHAKSPEARE. Guilt is the source of sorrow;'tis the fiend- First got with guile, and then preserved with The avenging fiend-that follows us behind dread, With whips and stings. And after spent with pride and lavishness. ROWE. SPENSER. WThen at first from virtue's path we stray, That cunning architect of canker'd guile, How shrinks the feeble heart with sad dismay! Whom princes' late displeasure left in bands, More bold at length, by powerful habit led, For falsedc letters, and suborned wile. Careless and sered, the dreary wilds we tread; SPENSER. Behold the gaping gulf of sin with scorn, And were there rightful cause of difference, And, plunging deep, to endless death are borne. Yet were't not better, fair it to accord, JAMES SCOTT. Than with bloodguiltiness to heap offence, Guiltiness And mortal vengeance join to crime abhorr'd? Will speak though tongues were out of use. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. From the body of one guilty deed Since thou hast far to go, bear not along A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. proceed. SHAKSPEARE. WORDSWORTH. Close pent-up guilts Let no man trust the first false step Rive your concealing continents, and ask Of guilt; it hangs upon a precipice These dreadful summoners grace. Whose steep descent in lost perdition ends. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: Busisris. Make mad the guilty, and appall the free, Where, where, for shelter shall the guilty fly, Confound the ign'rant. When consternation turns the good man pale? SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: Night ThouglaIs. HABIT. He walks; And that self-chain about his neck If thou dost still retain Which he forswore, most monstrously, to have. The same ill habits, the same follies too, SHAKSPEARE. Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave. DRYDEN. HAIR. How use doth breed a habit in a man! This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, IIis hair transforms to down, his fingers meet I better brook than flourishing peopled towns. In skinny films, and shape his oary feet. SHAKSPEARE. ADDISON. 236 HAIR. An infant Titan held she in her arms; All clad in liveliest colours, fresh and fair Yet sufferably bright, the eye might bear As the bright flowers that'crown'd their brighter The ungrown glories of. his beamy hair. hair. ADDISON. COWLEY. The nymph nor spun, nor dress'd with artful Merab's long hair was glossy chestnut brown. pride; COWLEY. Her vest was gather'd up, her hair was tied. ADDISON. And Katerfelto, with his hair on end At his own wonders, wondering for his bread. Behold the locks that are grown white Beneath a helmet in your father's battles. ADDISON. That wind With lightsome brow, and beaming eyes, and Aout their shady bros i wanton rings. CRASHAW. bright, Long, glorious locks, which drop upon thy cheek, Like gold-hued cloud-flakes on the rosy morn. And oods her ivory neck, and litters as she And floods her ivory neck, and glitters as she BAILEY: Fes/zts. goes. Like a white brow through its o'ershadowing ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. hair. BALhair. EY: Fests. Hair!'tis the robe which curious nature weaves To hang upon the head, and does adorn Her hair was roll'd in many a curious fret, Her hair was riolich in many a curious froet, Our bodies; in the first hour we are born Mpuch like a rich and curious coronet; God does bestow that garment: when we die, Up whose arches twenty Cupis lay, That, like a soft and silken canopy, And ^were or tied, or loath to put away. Is still spread over us: In spite of death, ~WILLIAM 13ROWNE: Pazstorrls. Our hair grorws in the grave, and that alone For the hair droops in clouds amber-colour'c Looks fresh, when all our other beauty's gone. till stirr'l I DECKER: Sa6i1ro-l4czstix. Into gold by the gesture that comes with a word. MRS. E. B. BROWNING. For every hour that thou wilt spare me now, I will allow, Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Usurious god of love, twenty to thee, Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; When with my brown my gray hairs equal be.'Her eyebrows' shape was like the aerial bow; DONNE. Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth. BYRON. Off with that wiery coronet, and show The hairy diadem which on your head doth Down her white neck, long, floating auburn grow. curls, I DONNE. The least of which would set ten poets raving. Powder thy radiant hair. BYRON. DONNE. By those tresses unconfined, The sun's Woo'd by every Iggean wind. The ss BYRON. Dishevel'd beams and scatter'd fires With a swimmer's stroke Serve but for ladies' periwigs and tires Flinging the billows back from my drench'd hair. In lovers' sonnets. DONNE. BYRON. Swift men of foot, whose broad-set backs their The flies, by chance mesh'd in her hair, trailing hair did hide. By the bright radiance thrown CHAPMAN. From her clear eyes, rich jewels were, They so like diamzonds shone. A soft responsive voice was heard at every close, They so like diamonds sho RATON. And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair. And trick them up in knotted curls anew. COLLINS: Passio$0s. DRAYTON. HA2IR. 237 What time the groves were clad in green, He roar'd, he beat his breast, he tore his hair. The fields all drest in flowers, DRYDEN. And that the sleek-hair'd nymphs were seen Nor did my search of liberty begin To seek their summer bowers. To seek their summer bowers. Till my black hairs were changed upon my chin. DRAYTON. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Her head was bare, Alike in feature both and garb appear, But for her native ornament of hair, With honest faces, though uncurled hair. Which in. a simple knot was tied above: DRYDEN. Sweet negligence! unheeded bait of love! DRYDEN. Mute, and amazed, my hair with horror stood; Fear shrunk my senses, and congeal'd my blood. Her shining hair, uncomb'd, was loosely spread; DRYDEN. A crown of mastless oak adorn'd her head. DRYDEN. He look'd a lion with a gloomy stare, And o'er his eyebrows hung his matted hair. Emily dress'd herself in rich array;RYDEN. Fresh as the month, and as the morning fair, Adown her shoulders fell her length of hair. Those grizzled locks, which nature did provide DRYDEN. In plenteous growth their asses' ears to hide. DRYDEN. Her well-turn'd neck he view'd, And on her shoulders her dishevell'd hair. But you, loud sirs, who through your curls look DRYDEN. big, Critics in plume and white valiancy wig. Now, now she meets you with a glorious p rize, s DRYDEN. And spreads her locks before her as she flies. DRYDEN. Stood Theodore surprised in deadly fright, A rihband did the braided tresses bind; With chatt'ring teeth, and bristling hair upright. The rest was loose, and wanton'd in the wind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Thy locks unicomb'd like a rough wood appear. She hurries all her handmaids to the task; DRYDEN. Her-head alone will twenty dressers ask. This punishment pursues the unhappy maid, DRYDEN. And thus the purple hair is dearly paid. Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown'd; DRYDEN. And in a golden caul the curls are bound. The rugged hair began to fall away; DRYDEN. The sweetness of her eyes did only stay. For thee she feeds her hair, DRYDEN. And with the winding ivy wreathes her lance. When the yellow hair in flame should fall, DRYDEN. The catching fire might burn the golden cawl. He shook the sacred honours of his head, DRYDEN. With terror trembled heav'n's subsiding hill, With terror trembled beav's subsiding ill, Thy hair so bristles with unmanly fears, And from his shaken curls ambrosial dews distil. As fields of corn that rise in bearded ears. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek; And then thou kemp'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: The Trojan chief aear August in visage, and serenely bright Of these thy barbers take a costly care. DRYDEN. His mother goddess, with her hands divine, Had form'd his curling locks, and made his They comb, and then they order ev'ry hair. temples shine. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Aghast, astonish'd, and struck dumb with fear, Thou hast made my curdled blood run back, I stood; like bristles rose my stiff'ning hair. My heart heave up, my hair to rise in bristles. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 238 HA IR. Instead of powder'd curls, let ivy twine His locks behind,;Around that head so full of " Caroline." Illustrious on his shoulders, fledge with wings, ON LORD ELDON: Surtees's Stozeel and Lay waving round. E/don, 173. MILTON. A tinsel veil her amber locks did shroud, The river of bliss through midst. of heaven That strove to cover what it could not hide. Rolls o'er Elysian flow'rs.her amber stream; FAIRFAX. With these, that never fade, the spirits elect Bind their resplendent locks inwreathecl with The gamesome winds among her tresses play, beams. And curleth up those growing riches short. FAIRFAX. You'll sometimes meet a fop, of nicest tread, She, as a veil, down to her slender waist Her unadorned golden tresses wore Whose mantling peruke veils his empty head. Her u golden tresses wore GAY. Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets waved, As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied Her tresses, loose behind, subjection. Play on her neck, and wanton in the wind; MILTON. The rising blushes which her cheek o'erspreadHyacinthine locks Are opening roses in the lily's bed. Round from his parted forelock manly hung GAY: Dione. Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad. Loose his beard and hoary hair MILTON. Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air. Acam had wove GRAY: Bar-d. Of choicest flow'rs a garland to adorn There's music in the forest leaves, Her tresses, and her rural labours crown. When summer winds are there, MILTON. And in the laugh of forest girls, The more That braid their sunny hair. His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve HALLECK. HLLE With tresses discomposed. With dancing hair and laughing eyes, MILTON. That seem to mock me as it flies. She a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wiped them with her hair. The hairs on his head were silver-white, MILTON. And his blood was thin and cold. These redundant locks, Robustious to no purpose, clust'ring down, Where go the poet's lines? Vast monument of strength. Answer, ye evening tapers! MILTON. Ye auburn locks, ye golden curls, Sepeakbfrnom your olded papers! God, when he gave me strength, to show withal O. W. HOLMES: Poet'sd Lot. How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. MILTON. Give me a look, give me a face That makes simplicity a grace; This strength diffused Robes loosely flowing, hair as free' No less through all my sinews, joints, and bones, BEN JONSON. Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn, Thy beauty,- not a fault is there: The pledge of my unviolated vow. No queen of Grecian line MILTON. E'er braided more luxuriant hair O'er forehead more ldivinet. h Sport with Amaryllis in the shade, O'er forehead more divine. - L. E. LANDON. 1Or with the tangles of Nexrea's hair. MILTON. Oh, richly fell the flaxen hair Over the maiden's shoulders fair! With ringlets quaint and wanton windings wove. C. MACKAY. MILTON. HA IR. 239 Listen where thou art sitting, This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, Nourish'd two locks, which graceful hung In twisted braids of lilies knitting behind The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair. In equal curls, and well conspired to deck MILTON. With shining ringlets the smooth, ivory neck. Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, With flow'r inwoven, tresses torn, The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thiclkets mourn. TWith hairy springes we the birds betray; MILTON. Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey: Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, And beauty draws us with a single hair. And fair Ligea's golden comb, POPE. Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, Sleeking her soft alluring locks. The meeting points the sacred hair dissever MILTON. From the fair head, forever, and forever. Th' humble shrub POPE. And bush, with frizzled hair implicit. These, in two sable ringlets taught to break, MILTON. Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck. What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that, POPE. Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn? Coffee (which makes the politician wise, MILTON. And see through all things with his half-shut There's not a look, a word of thine, eyes) My soul hath e'er forgot; Sent up in vapours to the baron's brain Thou ne'er hast bid a ringlet shine, New stratagems the radiant lock to gain. Nor given thy locks one graceful twine, POPE. Which I remember not. MOORE. Ev'n then, before the fatal engine closed, A wretch'd Sylph too fondly interposed; And nymphs were there whose very eyes Fate urged the shears, and cut the Sylph in Seem'd almost to exhale in sighs; twain. Whose every little ringlet thrill'd POPE. As if with soul and passion fill'd! AsMOORE. What wonder then thy hairs should feel The conquering force of unresisted steel? So are those crisped snaky golden locks, POPE. Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, Not Cynthia, when her mantua's pin'dl awry, Upon supposed fairness, often known E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair, Tlo be the dowry of a second head; As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish'd hair. The skull that bred them, in a sepulchre. POPE. OTWAY: Yenice Preserved. " Restore the lock!" she cries, and all around, His golden locks time hath to silver turned; "Restore the lock!" the vaulted roofs rebound. O time too swift! 0 swiftness never ceasing! POPE. GEORGE PEELE' Polyhymnia. Which never more shall join its parted hair, Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air, Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew. Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair: POPE. The doubtful beam long nods from side to side; At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. POPE. ish'd hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair; Not all the tresses that fair hair can boast Somie hang upon the pendants of her ear. Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. POPE. POPE. 240 H-AIR4R. Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod; Skin more fair, The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god. More glorious head, and far more glorious hair. POPE. RANDOLPH: Piraise of.~Women. She scorn'd the praise of beauty, and the care; With her hair flung back, A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair. She listens to his song, —"The song she loved." POPE. ROGERS. The fair-hair'd queen of love The great in honour are not always wise, Descends smooth-gliding from the courts above. Nor judgment under silver tresses lies. POPE. SANDYS. For deadly fear can time outgo, No longer shall thy comely tresses break And blanch at once the hair. In flowing ringlets on thy snowy neck, SIR V. SCOTT: ilfamion. Or sit behind thy head, an ample round, In graceful braids, with various ribbon bound. Fall to thy prayers: PRIOR. How ill white hairs become a fool and jester! SHAKSPEARE. What she demands, incessant I'll prepare; I'll weave her garlands, and I'll plait her hair. Here in her hairs PRIOR. The painter plays the spider, and hath woven A golden mesh to intrap the hearts of men Her hair, Faster than gnats in cobwebs. Untied, and ignorant of artful aid, SHAKSPEARE. Adown her shoulders loosely lay display'd. Adown her shoulders loosely lay display. Sing, syren, for thyself, and I will dote, Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs. When for thy head the garland I prepare, SHAKSPEARE. A second wreath shall bind Aminta's hair; Her sunny locks And when my choicest songs thy worth complain, Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. Alternate verse shall bless Aminta's name. SHARSPEARE. PRIOR. He said mine eyes were black, and my hair The glowing garland from my hair I took; hlack; Love in my heart, obedience in my look. And, now I am remember lAnd, now I am remember'd, scorln'd at me. PRICR. SHAKSPEARE. Tuck back thy hair, His hair is sticking; And I will pour into thy ear. PRIOR. His hair is sticking; His well-proportion'd beard made rough and Wanting the scissors, with these hands I'll tear, rugged, If that obstructs my flight, this load of hair. Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. The flow'rs she wore along the day; My fell of hair And ev'ry nymph and shepherd said Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir That in her hair they loolk'd more gay As life were in't. Than growing in their native bed. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, The dappled pink and blushing rose Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son. SHAKSPEARE. Deck my charming Chloe's hair. PRIOR. Make false hair, and thatch In our fantastic climes the fair Your poor thin roofs with burthens of the dead. With cleanly powder dry their hair. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. His hair is of a good colour, Ere on thy chin the springing beard began An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever To spread a doubtful down, and promise man. the only colour. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. HAI~R. 241 Had you not been their father, these white flakes Why do I yield to that suggestion, Did challenge pity of them. Whose horrid image doth upfix my hair? SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. If in black my lady's brow be deck'd, My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls, It mourns that painting and usurping hair Ev'n as an adder when she doth unroll Should ravish doters with a false aspect; To do some fatal execution. And therefore she is born to make black fair. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Finding force now faint to be, For who is he whose chin is but enrich'd He thought gray hairs afforded subtilty. With one appearing hair, that will not follow SIR P. SIDNEY. These cull'd and choice drawn cavaliers to France? Her yellow golden hair SHAKSPEARE. Was trimly woven, and in tresses wrought: No other tire she on her head did wear, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, a i, But crowned with a garland of sweet rosier. And each particular hair to stand on end, SPENSER. Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. SHAKSPEARE. Whether art it were, or heedless hap, As sweet and musical As through the flow'ring forest rash she fled, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair. In her rude hairs sweet flowers themselves did As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair. SHAKSPEARE. lap, And flourishing fresh leaves and blossoms did Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge enwrap. Had stomach for them all. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. Drawn with the power of an heart-robbing eye,. Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear And wrapt in fetters of a golden tress. thy hair. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. The dread knight's sword out of his sheath he There came wand'ring by A shadow like an angel, with bright hair..r' A shadow lie an angel, with bright hair. With which he cut a lock of all their hair. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER SPENSER. Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright.. His grizly locks, long growen and unbound, SHAKSPEARE. Disorder'd hung about his shoulders round. SPENSER. Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow; If that be all the difference in his love, Her golden locks for haste were loosely shed I'll get me such a colour'd periwig. About her ears. SHAKSPEARE. See what a grace was seated on this brow; They might perceive his head To be unarm'd, and curl'd, uncombed hairs Hyperioln's curls. Upstarting stiff. SHAIKSPEARE. SPENSER. Had I as many sons as I have hairs, Had I as many sons as I have hairs, Her yellow locks crisped like golden wire I would not wish them to a fairer death. About her shoulders weren loosely shed; SHAKSPEARE. And when the wind amongst them did inspire, Your high-engender'd battles'gainst a head They waved like a pennon wide dispred. So old and white as this. SPENSEIR. SHAKSPEARE. Her golden locks she roundly did uptie Never shake In braided trammels, that no looser hairs Thy gory locks at me. Did out of order stray about her dainty ears. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. 16 242 IA2 HIR.-HAPPINVESS. A list the cobblers' temples ties, HAPPINESS. To keep the hair out of their eyes; We shall meet From whence'tis plain the diadem, In happier climes, and on a safer shore. That princes wear, derives from them. ADDISON. SWIFT. From the sad years of life If Molly happens to be careless, We sometimes do short hours, yea, minutes, And but neglects to warm her hair-lace, strike, She gets a cold as sure as death. Keen, blissful, bright, never to be forgotten, Which, through the dreary gloom of time o'erFrom her own head Megara takes past, A periwig of twisted snakes. Shine like fair sunny spots on a wild waste. SWIFT. JOANNA BAILLIE: De MAoizfor'. So soft his tresses, fill'dI with trickling pearl, I see there is no man but may make his paradise, You doubt his sex, and take him for a girl. And it is nothing but his love and dotage TATE. Upon the world's foul joys, that keeps him out on't; With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, For he that lives retired in mind and spirit.And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair. Is still in paradise. TENNYSON: The Pirincess. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Vi-e Valoztr. But rising up, Oh, then the longest summer's day'Robed in the long night of her deep hair. Seem'd too, too much in haste: still the full heart TENNYSON: Tule P~rincess. Had not imparted half:'twas happiness Too exquisite to last. BLAIR: G-rave. -These hairs of age are messengers, Which' bid me fast, repent, and pray; V/ There comes They be of death the harbingers Forever something between us and what That do prepare and dress the way: We deem our happiness. -Wherefore I joy that you may see BYRON: Sardanalpahts. Upon my head such hair to be. So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray, LORD VAUX. And yet they glide, lile happiness, away. A thousand Cupids in those curls do sit,'Those curious nets thy slender fingers knit. If we for happiness could leisure find, WALLER. And wand'ring time into a method bind, We should not then the great man's favour need. A silver line, that from the brow to the crown, COWLEY. And in the middle, parts the braided hair, A happy soul, that all the way Just serves to show how delicate a soil To heaven hath a summer's day.'The golden harvest grows in. CRASHAW. WORDSWORTH. Thou'That kill the bloom before its time, Ow'st all thy losses to the fates; but I, And blanch, withlout the owner's crime, Like wasteful prodigals, have cast away'The most resplendent hair. My happiness. WORDSWORTH. SIR J. DENIAM. Her grizzled locks assume a smirking grace,'Tis with our souls And art has levell'd her deep-furrow'd face. As with our eyes, that after a long darkness YOUNCG. Are dazzled at th' approach of sudden light; When i' the midst of fears we are surprised A nail uncut and head uncomb'd she loves; With unexpected happiness, the first And would draw on jack-boots as soon as gloves. Degrees of joy are mere astonishment. YOUNG. SIR J. DENHAM: Sopzy. HAPPVINESS. 243 Happy the man, and happy he alone, Meanwhile enjoy He who can call to-day his own: Your fill, what happiness this happy state He who secure within can say, Can comprehend, incapable of more. To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day. MILTON. DRYDEN. Let us not then suspect our happy state, Since we have lost As not secure to single or combined. Freedom, wealth, honour, which we value most, M MILTON. [ wish they would our lives a period give; wish they would ur lives a period give; Bereaved of happiness, thou may'st partake They live too long who happiness outlive. His punishment, eternal misery; DRYDEN. Which would be all his solace and revenge, I have not quitted yet a victor's right; Thee once to gain companion of his woe. I'll make you happy in your own despite. MILTON. DRYDEN. Oh! there are looks and tones that dart The happy have whole days, and those they use; An instant sunshine through the heart; Th' unhappy have but hours, and those they lose. As if the soul that minute caught DRYD)EN.. Some treasure it through life had sought. MOORE. You have still your happiness in doubt, Or else'tis past, and you have dream'd it out. et my soft minutes glide securely on, DRYDEN. Like subterraneous streams, unheard, unlknown. JOHN NORRIS. We toss and turn about our feverish will, O happiness: our being's end and aim! When all our ease must come by lying still; Good, pleasure, ase, content! whate Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy For all the happiness mankind can gain, name; Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain. name; That something still which prompts th' eternal DRYDEN. sigh, No happiness can be where is no rest; For which we bear to live, or dare to die. Th' unknown, untalk'd-of man is only blest. POPE. DRYDEN. Form'd by some rule that guides but not conNature stints our appetite, strains, And craves no more than undisturb'd delight; And finish'cl more through happiness than pains. Which minds, unmix'd with cares and fears, POPE. obtain; A soul serene, a hody void of pain. Grant the bad what happiness they would, A soul serene, a body void of pain. DRYDEN. One they must want, which is, to pass for good. POPE. Ignorant of happiness, and blind to ruin, oa of' happeiones a hndtoin, Some beauties yet no precepts can declare; How oft are our petitions our undoing! Hwfaor tHARTE. For there's a happiness as well as care. HARTE. POPE. That happiness does still the longest thrive Who that define it, say they more or less Where joys and grief have turns alternative. Than this, that happiness is happiness? HERRICK. POPE. I at first with two fair gifts Where grows? Where grows it not? If vain Created him endow'd; with happiness our toil, And immortality; that fondly lost, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil. This other served but to eternize woe. Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere. MILTON. POPE. Thrice happy if they know Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust, Their happiness, and persevere upright! Yet cry, if man's unhappy, God's unjust. MILTON. POPE. 244 HAPPINZESS. Happiness, object of that waking dream What thing so good which not some harm may Which we call life, mistaking; fugitive theme bring? Of my pursuing verse, ideal shade, E'en to be happy is a dangerous thing. Notional good, by fancy only made. EARL OF STIRLING: Darius. PRIOR. The sweetest bird builds near the ground, We happiness pursue; we fly from pain; Yet the pursuit, and yet the flight, is vain: The loveliest flower springs low; And we must stoop for happiness And while poor nature labours to be blest, If we its worth would know. By clay by pleasure, and by night with rest, SWAIN..Some stronger power eludes our sickly will, Dashing our rising hopes with certain ill, E'en not all these, in one rich lot combined, And makes us, with reflective trouble, see Can make the happy man, without the mind; That all is destined which we fancy free. Where judgment sits, clear-sighted, and surveys PRIOR: Solomzon. The chain of reason with unerring gaze; Happiness courts tee in her best array; Where fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a misbehaved and sullen ench, His fairest scenes and bolder figures rise; But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,., Where social love exerts her soft command, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: Take heed, take heed! for such die miserable. SiIIAKSPEARE. Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife, And all the moral harmony of life. If I were now to die, THO2ISON.'Twere to be most happy; for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute An elegant suiciency, content, That not another comfort like to this Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Succeeds in -unknown fate. Ease and alternate labour, useful life, SHAKSPEARE. Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven! THOMSON: Sparisg. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves Happiness is a stranger to mankind, In drops of sorrow. And, like to a forced motion, it is ever SHAKSPEARE. Strongest at the beginning; then languishing With time, grows weary of our company. What! we have many goodly days to see: SIR SAMUEL TUKE: Adventzuies. The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl; Bright as the deathless gods, and happy, she Advantaging their loan, with interest From all that may infringe delight is free. Of ten-times double gain of happiness. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. No fears to beat away,-no strife to heal,True happiness is not the growth of earth, The past unsigh'd for, and the future sure. The soil is fruitless if you seek it there: WORDSWORTH.'Tis an exotic of celestial birth, And never blooms but in celestial air. Can gold calm passion, or make reason thine? R. B. SHERIDAN. Can we dig peace or wisdom from the mine? Wisdom to gold prefer; for'tis much less True happiness (if understood) To make our fortune than our happiness. Consists alone in doing good. YOUNG. - SOMERVILE. Fairer tan fairest in is faing eye, No man is blest by accident or guess: Fairer than fairest in his faining eye, Whose sole aspect he counts felcty. True wisdom is the price of happiness. Whose sole aspect he counts felicity. SPENSER. Where all the bravery that eye may see, There, blest with health, with business unAnd all the happiness that heart desire, perplext, Is to be found. This life we relish, and ensure the next. SPENSER. YOUNG. HA R VEST.- HEAL ig.. 245 How sad a sight is human happiness Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, To those whose thoughts can pierce beyond an And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand. hour! POPE. YOUNG: NVg/fft TJT~oztffhs. A thousand forms he wears: Beware what earth calls happiness; beware And first a reaper from the field appears; All joys but joys that never can expire: Sweating he walks, while loads of golden grain Who builds on less than an immortal base, O'ercharge the shoulders of the seeming swain. Fond as he seems, condemns his joy to death.. POPE. JYLOUN~G: Nigzt Thzou6tis. And when you crowd the old barn eaves, Then think what countless harvest sheaves Have pass'd within that scented door HARVEST. To gladden eyes that are no more. T.B. R1EAD. Unlabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn, And cluster'd grapes shall blush on ev'ry thorn. From hungry reapers they their sheaves withDRYDEN. hold. SANDYS. In Lydia born, Where plenteous harvests the fat fields adorn. The harvest treasures all DRYDEN. Now gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms, Sure to the swain; the circling fence shut up; Yours be the harvest,'tis the beggar's gain And instant winter's utmost rage defied. To glean the fallings of the loaded wain. THOMSON:. Seasons. DRYDEN. Oft did the harvest to the sickle yield, Their harrow oft the stubborn glebe has HEALTH. broke; IKnow, then, whatever cheerful and serene How jocund did they drive their team a-field, Supports the mind supports the body too. How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy Hence the most vital movement mortals feel stroke! GRAY: Elegy. Is hope: the balm and life-blood of the soul. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: There's merry laughter in the field, Art of Pieservinzg HeaZ/t. And harmless jest and frolic rout; What health promotes, and gives unenvied And the last harvest wain goes by peace With its rustling load so pleasantly Is all expenseless, and procured with ease. To the glad and clamorous harvest shout. SIR R. BLACKMORE. MARY HOWITT. There is no health: physicians say that we The hay is carried; and the Hours At best enjoy but a neutrality. Snatch, as they pass, the linden flowers; DONNE. And children leap to pluck a spray My body is from all diseases free; Bent earthward, and then run away. My temp'rate pulse does regularly beat. W. S. LANDOR. DRYDEN. The sappy boughs You hoard not health for your own private use, Attire themselves with bloom, sweet rudiments But on the public spend the rich produce. Of future harvest. JOHN PHILIPS. Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, The soil untill'd a ready harvest yields; Lie in three words, health, peace, and compeWith wheat and barley wave the golden fields. tence. POPE. POPE. So may kind rains their vital moisture yield, But health consists with temperance alone; And swell the future harvest of thy field. And peace; oh virtue! peace is all thine own. POPE. POPE. 246 LEAL TH. — HEAR T. —-EA VEN Cheerful health, Thou shalt not see me blush, His duteous handmaid, through the air improved NTor change my countenance for this arrest; With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial. A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. To lose these years which worthier thoughts re- All things but one you can restore: quire, t The heart you get returns no more. To lose that health which should those thoughts WALLER. inspire. SAVAGE. HEAVEN. My lord leans wondrously to discontent; His comfortable temper has forsook him; The ways of heaven are dark and intricate; He is much out of health. Puzzled in mazes, and perplex'd with errors, SHAKSPEARE. Our understanding traces them in vain, Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search, Nature does require Her time of preservation, which perforce Nor sees with how much art the wincldings run, Nor where the regular confusion ends. I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal ADDISON. Must give my attendance to. SHAKSPEARE. How has kind heav'n adorn'd the happy land, My state of health none care to learn; And scatter'cld blessings with a wasteful hand! My life is here no soul's concern. ADDIso N. SWIFT. Happy when I, from this turmoil set free, HEART. That peaceful and divine assembly see. SIR J. DENHAM. These spirits of sense, in fantasy's high court, Judge of the forms of objects, ill or well; Thus while the mute creation downward bend Ancd so they sound a good or ill r-eport Their sight, and tb their earthly mother tend, Down to the heart, where all affections dwell. Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes SIR J. DAVIES. 1Beholds his own hereditary skies. DRYDEN. Weak soul! and blindly to destruction led: She break her heart! she'll sooner break your As if there were degrees in infinite, head. And Heav'n itself had rather want perfection DRYDEN. Than punish to excess. Should not all relations bear a part? DRYDEN. It were enough to break a single heart. The god a clearer space for heav'n design'd; DRYDEN. Where fields of light and liquid ether flow, Now, heart, Purged fi-om the pond'rous dregs of earth below. Set ope thy sluices, send the vigorous blood DRYDEN. Through every active limb for my relief; She shines above, we know, but in what place, Then take thy rest within the quiet cell, How near the throne, and heavens imperial For thou shalt drum no more. face, DRYDEN. By our weak optics is but vainly guess'd; To failings mild, but zealous for desert-; Distance and altitude conceal the rest. The clearest head and the sincerest heart. DRYDEN. POPE. Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy; Ah, friend! to dazzle let the ain design; Ear hath not heard its deep song of joy! To raise the thought, to touch the heart, be thine. Dreams cannot picture a world so fair; Sorrow and death may not enter there; 0 cleave, my sides! Timne doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom; Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, Crack thy frail case. It is there, it is there, my child! SHAKSPEARE. MRS. HEMANS. HEA VENA 247 Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed Admitted to that equal sky, In one self place; but where we are is hell, His faithful dog shall bear him company. And where hell is, there must we ever be; POPE. And, to be short, when all the world dissolves, Things And every creature shall be purified, Well-nigh equivalent, and neighb'ring value, All places shall be hell that are not heaven. By lot are parted: but the value, high heav'n, MARLOWE: Fauslus. thy share, TIn equal balance laid with earth and hell, Up hither, under long obedience tied. Flings up the adverse scale, and shuns proporUp hither, under long obedience tried. MILTON. PRIOR. Nor shall we need, Nor shall we need, From that insatiable abyss With dangerous expedition, to invade With dangerous expedition, to invade Where flames devour, and serpents hiss, Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege~~~~~~, ~Promote me to thy seat of bliss. siege, ROSCOMMON. Or ambush from the deep. MILTON. Who hath not heard it spoken How deep you were within the books of heav'n? O for that warning voice which he, who saw SHAKSPEARE. Th' apocalypse, heard cry in heav'n aloud. MILTON. Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. Heav'n open'd wide I rest much bounden to you: fare you well! Her ever-during gates,-harmonious sound! SHAKSPEARE. On golden hinges moving. MILTON. Banquo! thy soul's flight, If it find heav'n, must find it out to-night. Things to their thought SHARSPEARE. So unimaginable as hate in heaven. MILTON. Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the darl, To cry, Hold! hold! Heaven and earth shall high extol SHAITSPEARE. Thy praises with th' innumerable sound Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thybut only chew its name. As if I didlbut only chew its name. throne Encompass'd shall resound the ever-bless'd. MILTON. I would she were in heaven, so she could Intreat some pow'r to change this currish Jew. He form'd the powers of heav'n SHAKSPEARE. Such as he pleased; and circumscribed their being!'~ ~There I'll rest, as after much turmoil MILTON. A blessed soul doth in elysium. SHAKSPEARE. Though heav'n be shut, What wonder, And heav'n's high arbitrator sits secure Frail men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to In his own strength, this place may be exposed. see, MILTON. At sight thereof so much enravish'd be? Each individual seeks a separate goal; SPENSER. But heav'n's great view is one, and that the For having yet, in his deducted spright, whole: Some sparks remaining of that heav'nly fire, That counterworks each folly and caprice, He is enlumined with that goodly light, That disappoints th' effects of ev'ry vice. Unto like goodly semblance to aspire. POPE. SPENSER. From opening skies may streaming glories shine, That we up to your palaces may mount, And saints embrace thee. Of blessed saints for to increase the count. POPE. SPENSER. 248 HER OES. — HISTOR — HOME. Mild vibrations soothe the parted soul, How heroes rise, how patriots set, New to the dawning of celestial day. Thy father's bloom and death may tell; THOMSON. Excelling others, these were great: Thou, greater still, must these excel. Thrice happy world, where gilded toys PRIOR, No more disturb our thoughts, no more pollute Heroes who overcome, or die, our joys! Have their hearts hung extremely high; There light or shade succeed no more by turns, The strings of which in battle's heat There reigns th' eternal sun with an unclouded Against their very corslets beat; ray, Keep time with their own trumpet's measure, There all is calm as night, yet all immortal day, And yield them most excessive pleasure. And truth forever shines, and love forever PRIOR. burns. bu.ISAAC WVTATTS. Our heroes of the former days Deserved and gain'd their never-fading bays. ROSCOMMON. H EROES. Heroes and heroines of old By honour only were enroll'd I sing of heroes and of kings, Among their brethren of the skies; In mighty numbers mighty things. To which, though late, shall Stella rise. COWLEY. SWIFT. We found the hero, for whose only sake We sought the dark abodes, and cross'd the bitter HISTORY. lake..lake. Some lazy ages, lost in sleep and ease, No actions leave to busy chronicles: Heroes of old, by rapine and by spoil, Such whose superior felicity but makes In search of fame did all the world embroil; In story chasms, in epochas mistakes. Thus to their gods each then allied his name: DRYDEN. This sprang from Jove, and that from Titan came. Justly Cesar scorns the poet's lays; GRANVILLE. It is to history he trusts for praise. POPE. For glory done What histories of toils could I declare! Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, But still long-wearied nature wants repair. Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods; POPE. Destroyers rightlier call'd, and plagues of men. MILTON. Time, by necessity compell'd, shall go Through scenes of war, and epochas of woe. Not that which justly gives heroic name PRIOR. To person or to poem. MILTON. After my death, I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, Mark by what wretched steps their glory grows; To keep mine honour from corruption. From dirt and sea-weed as proud Venice rose: SHAISPEARE. In each how guilt and greatness equal ran, And all that raised the hero sunk the man. POPE. HOME. We leave Heroes in animated marble frown. Our home in youth-no matter to what endPOPE. Study —or strife-or pleasure, or what not; Embattled nations strive in vain And coming back in few short years, we find The hero's glory to restrain: All as we left it outside: the old elms, Streams arm'd with rocks, and mountains red The house, the grass, gates, and latchet's selfwith fire, same click: In vain against his force conspire. But lift that latchet,-all is changed as doom. PRIOR. IBAILEY: FestzIs. /HOM/E. 249 On thy calm joys with what delight I dream, This fond attachment to the well-known place Thou dear green valley of my native stream! Whence first we started into life's long race, Fancy o'er thee still waves th' enchanting wand. Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway BLOOMFIELD: Broken Crutc/Z. We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day. COWPER. The parted bosom clings to wonted home, Our friends are as true, and our wives are as If aught that's kindred cheer the welcome hearth. comely, BYRON. And our home is still home, be it ever so homely.'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark C. DIBDIN: Songs. Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near Home is the sacred refuge of our life, home; Secured from all approaches but a wife:'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark If thence we fly, the cause admits no doubt, Our coming, and look brighter when we come. None but an inmate foe could force us out. BYRON. DRYDEN. Those who have homes, when~ home they do He enter'd in his house,-his home no more, For without hearts there is no home,-and felt repair, The solitude of passing his own door To a last lodging call their wand'ring friends. The solitude of passing his own door DRYDEN. Without a welcome. BYRON. Beholding thus, 0 happy as a queen! We cry: but shift the gaudy, flatt'ring scene; And say, without our hopes, without our fears, View her at home in her domestic light Without the home that plighted love endears, For thither she must come, at least at night. Without the smile from partial beauty won, GRANVILLE. Oh, what were man?-a world without a sun. BYRON. In all my wand'rings round this world of care, In all my griefs-and God has given my shareI loathe that low vice, Curiosity; I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, But if there's anything in which I shine, Amidst these humble bow'rs to lay me down;'Tis in arranging all my friends' affairs: To husband out life's taper at the close, Not having, of my own, domestic cares. And keep the flame from wasting, by repose. BYRON~. GOLDSMITH: Traveller. Leans o'er its humble gate and thinks the while- Why do I weep? to leave the vine Oh that for me some home like this would Whose clusters o'er me bendsmile I The myrtle-yet, oh, call it mine! Some hamlet shade, to yield my sickly form The flowers I loved to tend. Health in the breeze and shelter in the storm! A thousand thoughts of all things dear CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Hope. Like shadows o'er me sweep; I leave my sunny childhood here: If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies, MRS. IOEMANS. And they are fools who roam; The world has nothing to bestow: Still to ourselves in ev'ry place consign'd, From our own selves our joys must flow, Our own felicity we make or find: And that dear hut-our home. ~ With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, COTTON. Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. DR. S. JOHNSON: in Goldsmzith's Traveller. Domestic happiness! thou only bliss Of% Paradise that has survived the Fall! Sustain'd by him with comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. Though few now taste thee unimpair'd and free, In dust, our final rest and native home. MILTON. Or, tasting, long enjoy thee; too infirm, Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets It is for homely features to keep home; Unmix'd with drops of bitter. They had their name thence. COWPER: T'ask. MILTON. 250 HOME. —ONESTYZ Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; And near a thousand tables pined and wanted But such a sacred and homefelt delight, food. Such sober certainty of waking bliss, WORDSWORTH: Gzeiil and Solrrow. I never felt till now. MILTON. Denied what ev'ry wretch obtains of fate, An humble roof and an obscure retreat. The angry word suppress'd, the taunting YALDEN. thoughts; Subduing and subdued the petty strife, Man's greatest strength is shown in standing still: Which clouds the colour of domestic life; The first sure symptom of a mind in health The sober comfort, all the peace which springs Is rest of heart and pleasure felt at home. From the large aggregate of little things:OUNG: t T/iougkls. On these small cares of daughter, wife, or The man who builds, and wants wherewith to friend, pay, The almost sacred joys of home depend. Provides himself a home from which to run HANNAH MORE. away. Give me my home, to quiet dear, YOUNrG. Where hours untold and peaceful move; So fate ordain I sometimes there May hear the voice of him I love. HONESTY. MRS. OPIE. An honest man may take a knave's advice; Happy next him who to these shades retires, But idiots only may be cozen'd twice. Whom nature charms, and whom the muse DRYDEN. inspires; - Unforced with punishment, unawed by fear, Whom humbler joys of homefelt quiet please, His words were simple, and his soul sincere. Successive study, exercise, and ease. DRYDEN. POPE. The god constrains the Greek to roam The baits of gifts and money to despise, A hopeless exile from his native home, And look on wealth with undesiring eyes: From death alone exempt. When thou canst truly call these virtues thine, POPE. Be wise, and free, by heav'n's consent and mine. Fireside happiness, to hours of ease DRYDEN. Blest with that charm, the ceitainty to please.ought was visible that Each thought was visible that roll'd within, ROGERS: Amtlan -lfe. As through a crystal case the figured hours are Clamours our privacies uneasy make; seen seen; Birds leave their nests disturb'd, and beasts their And heav'n did this transparent veil provide haunts forsake. ROWE. Because she had no guilty thought to hide. DRYDEN. I here forget all former griefs, Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again. It looks as fate with nature's law would strive, SHARKSPEARE. To show plain dealing once an age may thrive. Home is the resort DRYDEN. Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polish'd fi-iends But let not all the gold which Tagus hides, And dear relations mingle into bliss. And pays the sea in tributary tides, THOMSON: Seasons. Be bribe sufficient to corrupt thy breast, Or violate with dreams thy peaceful rest. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my DRYDEN. childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view i! Tigers and wolves shall in the ocean breed, The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled The whale and dolphin fatten on the mead, wild wood, And ev'ry element exchange its kind, And ev'ryloved spot which my infancy knew. When thrifty honesty in courts we find. S. WOODWORTH. GRANVILLE. HTONO UR. 25 WVho is the honest man? Since'tis decreed, and to this period lead He that doth still and strongly good pursue, A thousand ways, the noblest paths we'll tread; To God, his neighbour, and himself most true: And bravely on, till they or we, or all, Whom neither force nor fawning can A common sacrifice to honour fall. Unpin, or wrench from giving all their due. SIR J. DENHAM. HERBERT. So much the thirst of honour fires the blood; A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod; So many would be great, so few be good; An honest man's the noblest work of God. For who would virtue for herself regard, POPE. Or wed without the portion of reward? DRYDEN. To find an honest man I beat about, And love him, court him, praise him, in or out. Wouldst thou to honour and preferments climb POPE. Be bold in mischief, dare some mighty crime,'What other oath, Which dungeons, death, or banishment deserves; Than onesty to honesty engaged? For virtue is but dryly praised, and starves. Than honesty to honesty engaged? That thus shall be, or we will fall for it. SHAKSPEARE. A lady's honour must be touch'd; Which, nice as ermine, will not bear a soil. DRYDEN. HONOUR. Honour burns in me, not so fiercely bright, Honour's a sacred tie,-the law of kings, i But pale as fires when master'd by the light. The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, DRYDEN. That aids and strengthens virtue when it meets her, Lose not the honour you have early won, And imitates -her actions when she is not: But stand the blameless pattern of a son. It ought not to be sported with. DRYDEN. ADDISON. Ah, what concerns did both your souls divide! When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, Your honour gave us what your love denied: The post of honour is a private station. DRYDEN. ADDISON. He stands in daylight, and disdains to hide I know thy gen'rous temper: An act to which by honour he is tied. Fling but the appearance of dishonour on it, DRYDEN. It straight talkes fire. Be kindred and relation laid aside, ADDISON. And honour's cause by laws of honour tried. Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause DRYDEN. Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome. Nor canst, nor durst thou, traitor, on thy pain, ADDISON. Appeach my honour, or thine own maintain. Honour is like that glassy bubble DRYDEN. That finds philosophers such trouble; Some honour of your own acquire; Whose least part crack'd, the whole does fly, Add to that stock, which justly we bestow, And wits are crack'd to find out why. Of those blest shades to whom you all things BUTLER: Hidib'ras. owe. DRYDEN. Honour's a lease for lives to come, Knights in knightly deeds should persevere, And cannot be extended from' And still continue what at first they were; The legal tenant;'tis a clhattle Continue and proceed in honour's fair career. Not to be forfeited in battle. DRYDEN. BUTLER: Hizdibras. These be the sheaves that honour's harvest bears; It does not me a whit displease The seed, thy valiant acts; the world the field.. That the rich all honours seize. COWLEY. FAIRIFAX. 252 HONOUR. Great honours are great burthens; but on whom Both gallant brothers bled in honour's cause, They are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads: In Britain yet while honour gain'd applause. His cares must still be double to his joys POPE. In any dignity. BEN JONSON: Catiline. Fair occasion shows the springing gale, And int'rest guides the helm, and honour swells True dignity is never gain'd by place, the sail. And never lost when honours are withdrawn. PRIOR. MASSINGER. Let us revolve that roll with strictest eye, Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy Where, safe from time, distinguish'd actions The public marks of honour and reward' lie. Conferr'd upon me. PRIOR. MILTON. Give me a staff of honour for mine age; All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, But not a sceptre to control the world. And dignities and pow'rs, all but the highest. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. Of honour void, of innocence, of faith, of purity, O that estates, degrees, and offices Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd. Were not derived corruptly! that dear honour MILTON. Were purchased by the merit of the wearer. SHAKSPEARE. The trial hath endamaged thee no way; Rather more honour left, and more esteem. I'll to the king, MILTON. And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence. I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind, SHAKSPEARE. For the late clight his honour suffer'd there. OTWAY. New honours come upon him Honour and shame from no condition rise: Like our strange garments; cleave not to their Act well your part: there all the honour lies. mould POPE. But with the aid of use. SHAKSPEARE. These are thy honours: not that here thy'bust I lose no honour Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust. POPE. In seeking to augment it; but still keep My bosom franchised, and allegiance clear. Never on man did heav'nly favour shine SIIAKSPEARE. With rays so strong, distinguish'd and divine. ~~POPE. ~ Honours best thrive POPE. When rather from our acts we them derive Mentes, an ever-honour'd name of old; Than our foregoers. High in Ulysses' social list enroll'd. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Mine emulation Honour unchanged, a principle profess'd; Hath not that honour in't it had: for where Fix'd to one side, but mod'rate to the rest. I thought to crush him in an equal force, POPE. (True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some Statesman, yet friend to truth, in soul sincere, way; In action faithful, and in honour clear. Or wrath or craft may get him. -~~~POPE. ~SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Much-suff'ring heroes next their honours claim, Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, But mine it will that no exploit have done. SHAKSPEARE. Fair virtue's silent train. POPE. He was True to his charge, the band preserved her long A noble servant to them; but he could not In honour's limits; such the pow'r of song. Carry his honours even. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. HONVOU-R. 253 Nor shall this blood be wiped from thy point, Who shall believe But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat, But you misuse the reverence of your place? To emblaze the honour which thy master got. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. See that you come Methinks it were an easy leap Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon. The bravest questant shrinks, find what you SHAKSPEARE. seek, That fame may cry you loud. If it be honour in your wars to seem SHAKSPEARET The same you are not, which for your best ends You call your policy: how is it less or worse, If I lose mine honour, But it shall hold companionship in peace I lose myself; better I were not yours, With honour as in war? Than yours so branchless. SHAKSPEARE.. SHAKSPEARE. Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other, Think that the clearest gods, who make them And I will look on death indifferently. honours SHAKSPEARE. Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. SHAKSPEARE. Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names, The good Andronicus That his own hand may strike his honour down, With honour and with fortune is return'd; That violates the smallest branch herein. From whence he circumscribed with his sword, SHAKSPEARE. And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. SHAKSPEARE. As the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peereth in the meanest habit. If you shall cleave to my consent, when'tis, It shall make honour for you. SHAKSPEARE. He was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; After my death I wish no other herald, For'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd No other speaker of my living actions, Sole monarch of the universal earth. To keep mine honour from corruption, SHAKSPEARE. But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. SHAKSPEARE. I am not covetous of gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; The honour is overpaid It yearns me not if men my garments wear; When he that did the act is commentator. Such outward things dwell not in my desires: SHIRLEY. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. Honour! thou spongy idol of man's mind, SHAKSPEARE. Thou soak'st content away, thou hast confined Ambitious man, and not his destiny, From lowest place when virtuous things pro- Within the bounds of form and ceremony. ceel, SIR P. SIDNEY: Arcadia. The place is dignified by the doer's deed: When great additions swell, and virtue none, Honour should be concern'd in honour's cause: It is a dropsied honour: good alone T'hat is not to be cured by contraries, Is good. As bodies are, whose health is often drawn SHAKSPEARE. From rankest poisons. Love yourself; and in that love SOUTHERN: Oroonokao. Not unconsider'd leave your honour. So hast thou oft with guile thine honour blent; But little may such guile thee now avail, You are nobly born, If wonted force and fortune do not much me Despoiled of your honour in your life. fail. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. t54 HOPE. One that to bounty never cast his mind; Eternal Hope! when yonder spheres sublime Ne thought of honour ever did assay Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of His baser breast. time, SPENSER. Thy joyous youth began, but not to fade In points of honour to be tried, When all thy sister planets had decay'd; Suppose the question not your own. When wrapt in flames the clouds of ether glow, SWIFT. And heaven's last thunder shakes the world He that depends upon another, must below, Oblige his honour with a boundless trust. Thou, undismay'd, shalt o'er the ruins smile, WVALLER. And light thy torch at Nature's funleal pile. CAMPBELL: Pleasztres of Nope. HOPE. Unfading hope! when life's last embers burn, W\,hen I behold"the charming maid, VWhen soul to soul, and dust to dust, return, When I behold'the charming maid, I Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour! I'm tell times more undone; while hope and Oh, then thy kingdom comes! immortal power! fear CAMPBELL: PATeasztJ'es of fIo~PL. With variety of pain distract me. ADDISON. Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind, Then do not strike him dead with a denial, But leave-oh! leave the light of Hope behind! But hold him up in life, and cheer his soul What though my winged hours of bliss have With the faint glimmering of a doubtful hope. been, ADDISON: C.tlo. Like angel-visits, fewr and far between. CAMPBELL: Pleaszuies of lohe. O Marcia, 0 my sister! still there's hope: Our father will not cast away a life'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, So needful to us all, and to his country. And clothes the mountain in its azure hue. ADDISON: Cato. CAMPBELL: Pleaszr'es of Hope. Our greatest good, and what we can least spare, Withoutour hopes, without our fears, Is hope: the last of all our evils, fear. Is hope: the last of all our evils, fear. Without the home that plighted love endears, DRt. QJOHN ARMSTRONG: ~Without the smiles from plighted beauty won, Ar1 of P ieservi'ng Heal/lA. Oh! what were man?-a world without a sun. Far greater numbers have been lost by hopes, CAMPBELL. Than all the magazines of daggers, ropes,.6~~~.. Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, And other ammunitions of despair, er a to despa r And hope without an object cannot live. WCere ever able to despatch by fear. BUTLER. COLERIDGE. Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life, But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, What was thy delighted measure? And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray. Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, BYRON: Bride of Abydos. And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail! COLLINS: Passionzs. White as a white sail on a dusky sea, When half the horizon's clouded and half free, Hope! of all ills that men endure Fluttering between the dun wave and the sky, The only cheap and universal cure! Is hope's last gleam in man's extremity. Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's BYRON: Island. health! (Auspicious hope! in thy sweet garden grow Thou lover's victory, and thou beggar's wealth! Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe. COWLEY. CAMPBELL: Pieasures of Rope. Hope! fortune's cheating lottery, Congenial hope! thy passion-kindling power, Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be; How bright, how strong, in youth's untroubled Fond archer, hope! who tak'st thy aim so far, hour! That still or short or wide thine arrows are! CAMPBELL: Pleaszures of Hole. COWLEY. HOPE. 255 Hope! whose weak being ruin'd is Here hope began to dawn; resolved to try, Alike if it succeed, and if it miss; She fix'd on this her utmost remedy. Whom good or ill does equally confound, DRYDEN. And both the horns of fate's dilemma w ound. COWLEY. Your hopes without are vanish'd into smoke; Your captains taken, and your armies broke. Dear hope! earth's dowry and heav'n's debt, DRYDEN. The entity of things that are not yet: Subtlest, but surest being. What hopes you had in Diomede, lay down: CRASHAW. Our hopes must centre on ourselves alone. DRYDEN. Fair hope! our earlier heav'n! by thee rYoung time is taster to eternity. Desire's the vast extent of human mind eRASHAW. It mounts above, and leaves poor hope behind. Sweet hope! kind cheat! fair fallacy! by thee DRYDEN. We are not where or what we be; I now believed But what and where we would be: thus art thou The happy day approach'd, nor are my hopes Our absent present, and our future now. deceived. DRYDEN. And now her hope a weak physician seems, For hope, the common comforter, prevails, pand fate I cannot fear; Like mel'cines, slowly in extremes. Alive or dead I shall deserve a name; SIR WV. DAVENANT: Gondibeit. Jove is impartial, and to both the same. DRYDEN. Why should not hope As much erect our thoughts as fear deject them? O hope! sweet flatterer! thy delusive touch SIR J. DENHAM. Sheds on afflicted minds the balm of comfort,Relieves the load of poverty,-sustains He cliFs hope's wings, whose airy bliss He clis hope's wings, whose airy bliss The captive, bending with the weight of bonds,Much higher than fruition is. And smoothes the pillow of disease and pain. SIR J. DENHAM.GLOVER: BoncTrea. But now our fears tempestuous grow, Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light, And cst ou opeawy, X Adorns and cheers the way, Whilst you, regardless of our woe, Adorns and cheers the way, Sit careless at a play. DORSET. Andcl still, as darker grows the nilght, Emits a brighter ray. Hope with a goodly prospect feeds the eye, GOLDSMITH: The Capitivzy. Shows from a rising ground possession nigh;. Shortens the distance, or o'erlooks it quite: Thus heavenly hope is all serene; So easy'tis to travel with the sight. But earthly hope, how bright soe'er, DRYDEN. Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene, Hast thou beheld when from the goal they start, As false and fleeting as tis fai EBER. The youthful charioteers with heaving heart Rush to the race, and, panting, scarcely bear -le that sees a dark and shady grove Th' extremes of fev'rish hope and chilling fear. Stays not, but looks beyond it on the sky. DRYDEN. HERBERT. She was his care, his hope, and his delight, And, as in sparkling majesty a star Most in his thought, and ever in his sight. Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud, DRYDEN. Bright'ning the half-veil'd face of heaven afar, For as an eagre rides in triumph o'er the tide, So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit The tyrant passions, hope and fear, shroud, Did in extremes appear, Sweet Hope! celestial influence round me shed, And flash'd upon the soul with equal force. Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head! DRYDEN. KEATS. 256 HOPE. Thine is a grief that wastes the heart, Hope's precious pearl in sorrow's cup Like mildew on a tulip's dyes — Unmelted at the bottom lay,'When hope, deferr'd but to depart, To shine again when, all drunk up, Loses its smiles, but keeps its sighs. The bitterness should pass away. L. E. LANDON. MOORE: Loves of th/e Ansgels. She bids me hope.! and in that charming word Take heart, nor of the laws of fate complain; Has peace and comfort to my soul restored. Though now'tis cloudy,'twill clear up again. LORD LYTTELTON. JOHN NORRIS. Though at times my spirit fails me, None without hope e'er loved the brightest fair: fa And the bitter tear-drops fall, But love can hope where reason would despair.y lot is hard and lonely, Though my lot is hard and lonely, LORD LYTTELTON: E-2frctm. Yet I hope-I hope through all. Where an equal poise of hope and fear MRS. NORTON. Does arbitrate the event, my nature is In those blest days when life was new, That I incline to hope rather than fear, And hope was false, but love was true. And gladly banish squint suspicion. PEACOCK: Nezoafi-k Abbey/. MILTON. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Hope elevates, and joy Man never is, but always to be, blest: Brightens his crest. The soul uneasy, and confined from home, MILTON. Rests and expatiates in a life to come. What reinforcement we may gain from hope, POPE. If not what resolution from despair. Hope leads from goal to goal, MILTON. And opens still, and opens on his soul; Till, lengthen'd on to faith, and unconfined, That comes to all; but torture without end It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind. That comes to all; but torture withotut end POPE. Still urges. MILTON. And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul. POPE. So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear; Farewell remorse! all good to me is lost. Cherish'd with hope, and fed with joy, it grows; Evil, be thou my good. In cheerful buds their opening bloom disclose, MILTON. And round the happy soil diffusive odour flows. PRIOR. He can, I know, but doubt to think he will; This only object of my real care, Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. Cut off from hope, abanlon'd to despair, belief. MILTON. In some few posting fatal hours is hurl'd From wealth, firom pow'r, from love, and from He ended; and his words their drooping cheer the world. Enlighten'd, and their languish'd hope revived. PRIOR. MILTON. Thus we act, and thus we are, Or toss'd by hope, or sunk by care. And then, that hope, that fairy hope, PRIOR. Oh! she awaked such happy dreams, Some stronger pow'r eludes our sickly will, And gave my soul such tempting scope For all its dearest, fond1est schemes! Dashes our rising hope with certain ill. For all its dearest, fondest schemes X PRIOR. MOORE. For hope is but the dream of those that wake. Oh! ever thus from childhood's hour PRIOR. I've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree or flower With pity moved for others cast away But'twas the first to fade away. On rocks of hopes and fears. MOORE; Lalla Rlooakh/ ROSCOMaioN. -OPE.-_HORR OR. — HORSES. 257 Do not blast my springing hopes, Hope, the glad ray, glanced from eternal good, Which thy kind hand has planted in my soul. That life enlivens, and exalts its powers, ROWE. With views of fortune. THOMSON: Liberty. The rose is fairest when'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. Well sung the Roman bard, All human things SIR W. SCOTT: Lady of time lake. Of dearest value hang on slender strings: O see the then sole hope, and in design A cause on foot Of heav'n our joy, supported by a line. Lives so on hope, as in an early spring WALLER. We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit, Hope gives not so much warrant as despair Hopes, what are they?-Beads of morning That frosts will bite them. Strung on slender blades of grass, That frosts will bite them. SHAK(SPEARE. Or a spider's web adorning In a strait and treacherous pass. Uncharitably with me have you dealt, WORDSWORTnI. And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. SHAKSPEARE. Hope, of all passions, most befriends us here; Passions of prouder name befriend us less: True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's Joy has her tears; and transport has her death: wings;. Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong, Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures Man's heart at once inspirits and serenes, kigs.. Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: Nzght Though,~ts. Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, WAnd manage it against despairing thoughts. ooo SHAKSPEARE. HORRFtOR. Oft expectation fails, and most oft there A sudden horror chill Where most it promises; and oft it hits Ran through each nerve, and thrill'd in ev'ry Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits. Ran through each nerve, and thrill' in ev'ry SHAKSPEARE. vein. ADDISON. The miserable have no other medicine, How can I But only hope. SHAKSPEARE. Repress the horror of my thoughts, which fly The sad remembrance? This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth SIR J. DENHAM. The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow blossoms, The cruel word her tender heart so thrill'd And bears his blushing honours thick upon him. SHAI(SPEARE. That sudden cold did run through ev'ry vein, And stormy horror all her senses fill'd. It never yet did hurt With dying fit, that down she fell for pain. To lay down likelihood and forms of hope. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. To be worst, The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear: Nor would you find it easy to compose The lamentable change is from the best; The mettled steeds, when from their nostrils The worst returns to laughter. flows SHAKSPEARE. The scorching fire that in their entrails glows. ADDISON. Thus is my summer worn away and wasted, Thus is my harvest hasten'd all to rathe: From their full racks the gen'rous steeds retire, The ear, that budded fair, is burnt and blasred, Dropping ambrosial foams, and snorting fire. And all my hoped gain is turn'd to scathe. ADDISON. SPE.NSER. The fiery war-horse paws the ground, The mighty hopes that make us men. And snorts and trembles at the trumpet's sound. TENNYSON: In MJIlemoriam. ADDISON. I7 258 HORSES. He bids the nimble hours He spurr'd his fiery steed Bring forth the steeds; the nimble hours obey: With goring rowels to provoke his speed. From their full racks the gen'rous steeds retire. DRYDEN. ADDISON. Aventinus drives his chariot round; Champing his foam, and bounding o'er the plain, Proud of his steeds, he smokes along the ground. Arch his high neck, and graceful spread his DRYDEN. mSane. R. BLAcKMORE. He with a graceful pride, SIR R. BLACKMORE. While his rider every hand survey'd, Lived in his saddle, loved the chase, the course, Sprung loose, and flew into an escapade; And always, ere he mounted, kiss'd his horse. Not moving forward, yet with every bound COWPER: Retiremzent. Pressing, and seeming still to quit his ground. The sprightly horse DRYDEN. Moves to the music of his tinkling bells. On his fiery steed betimes he rode, DODSLEY. That scarcely prints the turf on which he trod. The fiery courser, when he hears from far DRYDEN. The sprightly trumpets, and the shout of war, You use me like a courser spurr'd and rein'd: Pricks up his ears, and, trembling with delight, If I fly out, my fierceness you command..Shifts place, and paws, and hopes the promisedRYDEN. fight. DRYDEN. Their steeds around, A knight of swarthy face, Free from the harness, graze the flow'ry ground. DRYDEN. High on a coal-black steed, pursued the chase; DRDEN. With flashing flames his ardent eyes were fill'd. So fierce they drove, their coursers were so fleet, DRYDEN. That the turf trembled underneath their feet.'Venetians do not more uncouthly ride DRYDEN.'Than did your lubber state mankind bestride. DRYDEN. Then to his absent guest the king decreed A pair of coursers, born of heav'nly breed; Which durst, with horses' hoof that beat the WTho from their nostrils breathed ethereal fire, ground, Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire. And martial brass, belie the thunder's sound. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Three hundred horses, in high stables fed, The courser paw'd the ground with restless feet, snorting, foam'd, and champ'd the golden Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd. jnd, s norting, foam'd, and champ'd the golde lDEN. DRYDEN. bit. DRYDEN. -( A steed O'er the Elean plains thy well-breathed horse Well mouth'd, well managed, which himself did Impels the flying car, and wins the course. dress; DRYDEN. His aid in war, his ornament in peace. DRYDEN. The love of horses which they had alive, And care of chariots, after death survive. So four fierce coursers, starting to the race, DRYDEN. oe7- through the plain, and lengthen ev'ry pace; tNor reins, nor curbs, nor threat'ning cries they His white-maned steed, that bow'd beneath the yok e, -,uit foirc along the trembling charioteer. He.cheer'd to courage with a gentle stroe; along the trembling charioteer. Then urged his fiery chariot on the foe, DRYDEN. And rising shooku his lance in act to throw. | T he startling steed was seized with sudden fiight, )DRYuDEN- I Aend bounding, o'er the pommel cast the knight: The pamper'd colt will discipline disdain, Fo -ward he flew, and, pitching on his head, -Impatient of the lash, and restiff of the rein. He quiver'd with his feet and lay for dead. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. RORSES. 259 At his command Thy nags, the leanest things alive, The steeds caparison'd with purple stand, So very hard thou lov'st to drive, And champbetween their teeth the foaming gold. I heard thy anxious coachman say, DRYDEN. It cost thee more in whips than hay. PRIOR. The timely noise the sprightly courser hears, PRIOR. Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling Long-hoofd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, ears. GAY. Broad breast, full eyes, small head and nostril wide, Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing steed. ~MILTON. strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttocks, tender The high-prancing steeds hide. Spurn their dismounted riders; they expire SHAKSPEARE. Indignant, by unhostile wounds destroy'd. With that he gave his able horse the head, JOHN PHILIPS. And, bending forward, struck his agile heels Against the panting sides of his poor jade, The impatient courser pants in every vein, U And, pawing, seems to beat the distant plain; Up to the rowel-head. SHAKSPEARE. Hills, vales, and floods appear already cross'd; And ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost. That horse that thou so often hast bestrid; POPE. That horse that I so carefully have dress'd. SHAKSPEARE. Ranged in a line the ready racers stand, i Start from the goal, and vanish o'er the strand: lltention, like a horse Swift as on wings of wind upborn they fly, Full of hig feeding, maly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him. And drifts of rising dust involve the sky. SHAISPEARE. -OPE. Those that tame wild horses With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew, Pace'em not in their hands to make'em gentle, He lash'd the coursers, and the coursers flew; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits. Beneath the bending yoke alike they held SHAKSPEARE. Their equal pace, and smoked along the field. Where is the horse that doth untread again POPE. His tedious measures with th' unbated fire See the. bold youth strain up the threat'ning That he did pace them first? steep; SHAKSPEARE. Hang o'er their coursers' heads with eager Every horse bears his commanding rein, speed, And may direct his course as please himself. And earth rolls back beneath the flying steed. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Duncan's horses, Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t' Beauteous and swift, the minions of the race, excel; Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung Newmarket's glory rose as Britain's fell. out, POPE. Contending'gainst obedience. SHAKSPEARE. The bounding steed you pompously bestride He proudly pricketh on his courser strong, Shares with his lord the pleasure and the pride. POPE. And Atin aye him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong. Practise them now to curb the turning steed, SPENSER. Mocking the foe; now to his rapid speed Then, foaming tar, their bridles they would To give the rein, and in the full career champ, To draw the certain sword, or send the pointed And trampling the fine element womuld fiercely spear. ramp. PRIOR. SPENSER. 260 HORSES.-HOSPITA LITY He with wide nostrils, snorting, skims the wave., More pleased to keep it till their friends could THOMSON.. Come, Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home. Some nymphs affect a more heroic breed, POPE. POPE. And vault from hunters to the managed steed. YOUNG. By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, More than one steed must Delia's empire feel, And what to those we give to Jove is lent. Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel; POPE. And, as she guides it through th' admiring Instant he flew with hospitable haste, throng, And the new friend with courteous air embraced. With what an air she smacks the silken thong! POPE. YOUNG. True friendship's laws are by this rule exprest: Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. HOSPITALITY.POPE. But the kind hosts their entertainment grace Benighted wanderers, the forest o'er, With hearty welcome and an open face; Curse the saved candle and unopening door. In all they did, you might discern with ease POPE. A willing mind, and a desire to please. A willing mind, and a desire to lease In plenty starvilig, tantalized in state, And complaisantly help'd to all I hate; Then, leaving in the fields his grazing cows, Treated, caress'd, and tired, I take my leave. He sought himself some hospitable house: POPE. Good Creton entertain'd his godlike guest. He thought them folks that lost their way, And ask'd them civilly to stay. The man their hearty welcome first express'd, PRIOR. A common settle drew for either guest, A common settle drew for either guest, And strangers with good cheer receive. Inviting each his weary limbs to rest. PRIOR. DRYDEN. Receive the shipwreck'd on your friendly shore; Sir, you are very welcome to our house: With hospitable rites relieve the poor. It must appear in other ways than words, DRYDEN. Therefore I scant this breathing coulrtesy. SHAKSPEARE. You, if your goodness does not plead my cause, May think I broke all hospitable laws. Ceremoniously let us prepare DRYDEN. Some welcome for the mistress of the house. This night, at least, with me forget your care;HAKSPEARE. Chestnuts, and curds, and cream, shall be your But though fare, But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; DRYDEN. Better cheer you may have, but not with better For harbour at a thousand doors they knock'd; heart. Not one of all the thousand but was lock'd. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Sweet fiiends, your patience for my long abode; So saying, with despatchful looks in haste Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait. She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent, SHAKSPEARE. What choice to choose for delicacy best. MILTON. Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged locks; Be bright and jovial'mong your guests to-night. His hospitable gate, SHASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Unbarr'd to all, invites a numerous train Of daily guests; whose board with plenty You do not give the cheer; the feast is sold cronV'd That is not often vouched, while'tis making, Revives the feast-rites old..'Tis given with welcome. JOHN PHILIPS. SHAKSPEARE. HtUMIIT. — HUM UR. — HUNVTIIVG. 261 Therein he them full fair did entertain, Forever in this humble cell Not with such forged shows as fitter been Let thee and I together dwell. For courting fools, that courtesies would faine, PRIOR. But with entire affection and appearance plain. SPENSER. HUMOUR. She to her. guests doth bounteot anquet dight, You humour me when I am sick; Attemper'd goodly well f health and for Why not when I am splenetic? delight. SPENSER. Sir Balaam now, he lives like other folks, My master is of a churlish disposition, He takes his chirping pint, he cracks his jokes. And little recks to find the way to heav'n POPE. By doing deeds of hospitality. Though wond'ring senates hung on all he spoke, SWIFT. The club must hail him master of the joke. POPE. HUMILITY. Examine how your humour is inclined, And which the ruling passion of your mind. In life's cool vale let my low scene be laid; RCM RosCOM-MON. Cover me, gods, with Tempe's thickest shade. COWLEY. The priest was pretty well in case, And show'd some humour in his face; When, through tasteless flat humility, When, through tasteless flat humility, Look'd with an easy, careless mien, In dough-baked men some harmlessness we see, elb~~, ~~~~A perfect stranger to the spleen. SWIFT'Tis but his phlegm that's virtuous, and not he. DONNE. As high turrets for their airy steep HUNTING. Require foundations in proportion deep; By chase our long-lived fathers earn'd their food; And lofty cedars as far upwards shoot Asnd lofty cedars as far upwards shoot root Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood: As to the nether heavens they drive the root; But we, their sons, a pampe'd race of men, So low did her secure foundation lie: Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. She was not humble, but humility. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. I had a glimpse of him; but he shot by me Thus the sire of gods and men below: Like a young hound upon a burning scent. What I have hidden, hope thou not to know. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Let the keen hunter from the chase refrain, The great controller of our fate Nor render all the ploughman's labour vain, Deign'd to be man, and lived in low estate. When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn, DRYDEN. And clothes the fields with golden ears of corn. A grain of glory mixt with humbleness GAY. Cures both a fever and lethargicness. Ye vig'rous swains! while youth ferments your HERBERT. blood, Humility, that low, sweet root, And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood, From which all heavenjy virtues shoot. Now range the hills, the thickest woods beset, Wind the shrill horn, or spread the waving net. MOORE: Loves of the Anzels. POPE. Humility is eldest-born of virtue, Together let us beat this ample field, And claims the birthright at the throne of Try what the open, what the covert yield. heav'n. MURPHY: Zobeide. Room for my lord! three jockeys in his train; I was not born for courts or great affairs: Six huntsmen with a shout precede his chair; I pay my debts, believe, and say my prayers. He grins, and looks broad nonsense with a stare. POPE. POPE. 262 HUSBAINDS. -HYP 0 CRS Y When from the cave thou risest with the day That lord whose hand must take my plight To beat the woods, and rouse the bounding prey. shall carry PRIOR. Half my love with him, half my care and duty. SHAKSPEARE. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and gray; The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green; Uncouple here, and let us make a bay. HYPOCRISY. - - SHAKSPEARE. Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device, The babbling echo mocks the hounds,- A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought in Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns; earnest, As if a double hunt were heard at once. Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury. SHAKSPEARE. ADDISON. Thick around'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Thunders the sport of those, who with the gun Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face, And dog impatient bounding at the shot, When discontent sits heavy at my heart. Worse than the season desolate the fields. ADDISON: Cato. THOMSON. Every man in this age has not a soul Of crystal, for all men to read their actions HUSBANDS. Through: men's hearts and faces are so far asunder What are husbands? read the new world's wonThat they hold no intelligence. ders, BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Phil/aslte. Such husbands as this monstrous world produces, They varnish all their errors, and secure And you will scarcely find such deformities. The ills they act, and all the world endure. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: SIR J. DENHAM. Rule a l'ife. le a Wfe Next stood hypocrisy, with holy leer, You, if an humble husband may request, Soft smiling and demurely looking down; Provide and order all things for the best. But hid the dagger underneath the gown. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The lover in the husband may be lost. If still thou dost retain LORD LYTTELTON: Advice to a Zady. The same ill habits, the same follies too, Gloss'd over only with a saintlike show, Husbands are like lots in Still thou art bound to vice. The lottery: you may draw forty blanks DRYDEN. Before you find one that has any prize In him. Bartering his venal w7it for sums of gold, MARSTON. He cast himself into the saint-like mould; Thy husband commits his body Groan'd, sigh'cl, and pray'd, while godliness was To painful labour both by sea and land; gain: And craves no other tribute at thy hands The loudest bagpipe of the squeaking train. But love, fair looks, and true obedience. DRYDEN. Too little payment for so great a debt. SHARKSPEARE. Fair hypocrite, you seek to cheat in vain; Your silence argues you seek time to reign. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, DRYDEN. Diet his sickness; for it is my office. SHAKSPEARE. Give me good fame, ye pow'rs, and make elle just: A wooer Thus much the rogue to public ears will trust: More hateful than the foul expulsion is In private then: When wilt thou, mighty Jove, Of thy dear husband. My wealthy uncle from this world remove? SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. YP 0 CRIS Y — ZIDLENESS. 263 That thou may'st the better bring about Oh, what may man within him hide, Thy wishes, thou art wickedly devout. Though angel on the outward side! DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. I, under fair pretence of firiendly ends, Away, and mock the time with fairest show: And well-placed words of glossy courtesy, False face must hide what the false heart doth Baited with reason not unplausible, know.' SHIAKSPEARE. WVind me into the easy-hearted man, Not a courtier, And hug him into snares. MILTON: Gomus. Although they wear their faces to the bent MILTON: CoMlzUs. Of the king's look, but hath a heart that is Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Glad of the thing they scowl at. Invisible, except to God alone, SHAKSPEARE. By his permissive will, through heav'n and earth. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, MILTON: Paradise losA And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! To just contempt ye vain pretenders fall, SHAKSPEARE. The people's fable, and the scorn of all. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face! POPE. Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? SHAKSPEARE. Thou hast prevaricated with thy friend, By under-hand contrivances undone me. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: ROWE: Lady.7ane Grey. Who covers faults, at last with shame derides. SHAKSPEARE. When my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart The world's all title-page; there's no contents; In compliment extern,'tis not long after The world's all face: the man who shows his But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve heart For daws to peck at. Is hooted for his nudities and scorn'd. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: NVailft Thozughits. IDLENESS. No longer live the cankers of my court; All to your several states with speed resort; Absence of occupation is not rest Waste in wild riot what your land allows, A mind quite vacant is a mind distress'd. There ply tlhe early feast and late carouse. COWPER: Retirenmelnt. POPE. An idler is a watch that wants both hands; A lazy, lolling sort, As useless if it goes as if it stands. Unseen at. church, at senate, or at court, COWPER: Retirement. Of ever-listless loit'rers, that attend How various his employments whom the world No cause, no trust, no duty, and no friend. Calls idle; and who justly, in return, POPE. Esteems the busy world an idler too! What is a man, COWPER: Task. If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. There, too, my Paridel! she mark'd thee there, Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair, Looking before and after, gave us not And heard thy everlasting yawn confess That capability and godlike reason The pains and penalties of idleness. To rust in us unused. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 264 IGIVORAN VC -E.-IiAiA GINVA TION. And though myself have been an idle truant, IMAGINATION. Omitting the sweet benefit of time Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,d to Imaginary ills and fancied tortures? Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name, ADDISON. Made use and fair advantage of his days. I have fed SHAKSPEARE. Perhaps too much upon the lotos-fruits And loathful idleness he doth detest, Imagination yields,-fruits that unfit The canker-worm of every gentle breast. The palate for the more substantial food SPENSER. Of our own land,-reality. L. E. LANDON. An empty form Is the weak virtue that amid the shade O whither shall I run, or which way fly Lamenting lies, with future schemes amused; The sight of this so horrid spectacle, While wickedness and folly, kindred powers, Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold! Confound the world. For dire imagination still pursues me. THOMSON. MILTON. Condemn'd W;hole years in absence to deplore And image charms he must behold no more. IGNORANCE. POPE: Eloisa. The truest characters of ignorance Where beams of warm imagination play, Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance; The memory's soft figures melt away. As blind men use to bear their noses higher POPE. Than those that have their eyes and sight entire. Do what he will, he cannot realize BUTLER. Half he conceives-the glorious vision flies; Go where he may, he cannot hope to find The greatest and most cruel foes we have,e may, he cannot hope to find The truth, the beauty pictured in his mind. Are those whom you would ignorantly save. DRYDEN. ROGERS: HZtllzan Lje'. By ignorance is pride increased; Imagination, With what's unreal thou co-active art, Those nmost assume who know the least: And fellow'st nothing. Their own self-balance gives them weight, And fellow'st nothing. SHAKSPEARE. But every other finds them light. GAY: Fables. This is the very coinage of your brain; This bodiless creation ecstasy Yet ah! why should they know their fate? Is very cunning in. Since sorrow never comes too late, SHAKSPEARE. And happiness too swiftly flies, Thought would destroy their paradise. Nomore: where ignorance is bliss By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? *Tis folly to be wiserance i. blisd Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite'Tis folly to be wise. GRAY: Efoon College. By bare' imagination of a feast? SHAKSPEARE. Fools grant whate'er ambition craves, Present fears And men, once ignorant, are slaves. POPE. Are less than horrible imaginings. SHAKSPEARE. If we see right, we see our woes; weserigh, we seeoThe lunatic, the lover, and the poet Then what avails it to have eyes? e, Are of imagination all compact. From ignorance our comfort flows: SHARSPEARE. The only wretched are the wise! PRIOR. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible Ignorance is the curse of God, To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to A dagger of the mind, a false creation, heav'n. Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. IMMOR TAI ITY. -IiVNGR TITUDE. 2 65 IMMORTALITY. When that which we immortal thought, We saw so near destruction brought, It must be so: Plato, thou reasonest well: s fu d e We felt what you did then endure, Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, And tremble yet, as not secure. This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul'Tis immortality-'tis that alone, Back on itself, and startles at destruction? Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness,.thediviniythat stirs within us;.The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill;'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; That only, and that amply, this performs.'Tis heav'n itself that points out a hereafter,,, YOUNG: 2ZVg'~/ T7' osz~tfs. And intimates eternity to man. ADDISON: Cato. Immortality o'ersweeps All pains, all tears, all time, all fears —and peals Like the eternal thunders of the deep Not t' have written, then, seems little less Into my ears this truth-Thou liv'st forever! Than worst of civil vices, thanklessness. BYRON. DONNE. Deserted in his utmost need Cold in the dust this perish'd heart may lie, But that which warm'd it once shall never die. y those his former bounty fed. DRYDEN. CAMPBELL. I have been base; Doubtless all souls have a surviving thought; Base evn to him from whom I did receive Therefore of death we think with quiet mind; All that a son could to a father give: But if we think of being turn'd to nought, Behold me punish'd in the self-same kind; A trembling horror in our souls we find. Th' ungrateful does a more ungrateful find. SIR J. DAVIES. DRYDEN. Hence springs that universal strong desire But why, alas! do mortal men complain? Which all men hasve of immortality: God gives us what he knows our wants require, Not solme few spirits unto this thought aspire, And better things than those which we desire! But all men's minds in this united be. DRYDEN. SIR J. DAVIES. I'll cut up, as plows All these true notes of immortality Do barren lands, and strike together flints In our heart's table we shall written find. And clods, th' ungrateful senate and the people. SIR J. DAVIES. BEN JONSON. If then all souls, both good and bad, do teach, On adamant our wrongs we all engrave, With gen'ral voice, that souls can never die, But write our benefits upon the wave.'Tis not man's flatt'ring gloss, but nature's DR. WV. KING: Art of Love. speech, speech, lieGo' oaleca evrli. For vicious natures, when they once begin Which, like God's oracles, can never lie. SIR J. DAVIES. To take distaste, and purpose no requital, The greater debt they owe, the more they hate. Could the declining of this fate, 0 friend, THOMAS MAY: Agraina. Our date to immortality extend? Who for so many benefits received SIR J. DENHAM. The spirit ofman, Turned recreant to God, ingrate and false, The spirit of man, And so of all true good himself despoil'd. Which God inspired, cannot together perish MILTON. With this corporeal clod. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, MILTON. Thou art not so unkind Your very fear of death shall make ye try As man's ingratitude; To catch the shade of immortality, Thy tooth is not so keen, Wishing on earth to linger, and to save Because thou art not seen, Part of its prey from the devouring grave. Although thy breath be rude. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 266 IWNGRA TITUDE. — INIO CENCE. A sov'reign shame so bows him; his unkindness, With all the assurance innocence can bring, That stript her from his benediction, turn'd her Fearless without, because secure within, To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights Arm'd with my courage, unconcern'd I see To his dog-hearted daughters. This pomp; a shame to you, a pride to me. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. All the stored vengeances of heaven fall Where seek retreat, now innocence is fled? On her ingrateful top! strike her young bones, Safe in that guard, I durst even hell defy; You taking airs, with lameness. Without it, tremble now when heav'n is nigh. SHAKSPEARE.RYDEN. That she may feel Your power you never use, but for defence, How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To guard your own or others' innocence. To have a thankless child. SHAKSPEARE. Against the head which innocence secures She that herself will sliver and disbranch i e Insidious malice aims her darts in vain, From her maternal sap, perforce must wither, Turn'd backwards by the pow'rful breath of And come to deadly use. SHAKSPEARE.heav'n DR. JOHNSON: Irene. Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiendd: Ingratitude Hthou marble-hearted fiend e waits, with hellish rancour imminent, More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child, To intercept thy way, or send thee back Than the sea-monster. ThanSHA the SeEARr Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. In common worldly things'tis call'd ungrateful With dull unwillingness to pay a debt, Her gracefl innocence, her ev'ry air Of gesture, or least action, overawTed Which, with a bounteous hand, was kindly lent; O. Much more to be thus opposite with Heaven. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. True conscious honour is to feel no sin: I will lift the down-trod Mortimer He's arm'd without that's innocent within: As high i' th' air as this unthankful king, As igh i' th' air as this untankful king, Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass. As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Thus wisely careless, innocently gay, See the monstrousness of man Cheerful he play'd. When he looks out in an ungrateful shape! POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not see me blush Nor can imagination guess Nor change my countenance for this arrest: How that ungrateful charming maid A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. My purest passion has betray'd. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT. Innocence shall make All should unite to punish the ungrateful: False accusation blush, and tyranny Ingratitude is treason to mankind. Tremble at patience. THOMSON: Co'riolanus. SHAKSPEARE. He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one; It will help me nothing All other crimes may pass for virtues in him. To plead my innocence, for that dye is on me YOUNG: Busiris. Which makes my whit'st part black. SHAKSPEARE. There is no courage but in innocence, INNOCENCE. No constancy but in an honest cause. SOUTHERN: Fate of Capua. What men could do, Is done already: heaven and earth will witness, Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts If Rome must fall, that we are innocent. Are free from anguish as they are from faults. ADDISON. WALLER. INVSA IITY. — I'NS _TINVCT. 267 0 that I had my innocence again! Ecstasy! My untouch'd honour! But I wish in vain. My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, The fleece that has been by the dyer stain'd And make as healthful music. It is not madNever again its native whiteness gain'ld. ness WALLER. That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word; which madness WVould gambol from. IN SANITY. SHAKSPEARE. With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, I am not mad;-I would to heaven I were Preys on itself, and is destroy'd by thought; For then,'tis like I should forget myself; Constant attention wears the active mind, O, if I could, what grief should I forget! Blots out her powers, and leaves a blank behind. if I could, what grief should I forget SHAKSPEARE. CHURCHILL. The reason that I gather he is mad, If a phrenzy do possess the brain, Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner, It so disturbs and blots the form of things, Of his own door being shut against his entrance. As fantasy proves altogether vain, SHAKSPEARE. And to the wit no true relation brings. SIR J. DAVIES. Fetter strong madness in a silken thread; Charm ache with air, and agony with words. Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad; SHAKSPEARE. Both are the reasonable soul run mad. DRYDEN. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains; Full of museful mopings, which presage Such shaping fantasies that apprehend The loss of reason, and conclude in rage. More than cool reason ever comprehends. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, And thin partitions do their bounds divide. Such a dependency of thing on thing, DRYDEN: Absalom anzd Ac4ohifhel. As e'er I heard in madness. SHAKISPEARE. There is a pleasure in being mad Which none but madmen know. Were such things here as we do speak about? DRYDEN: ~SaLZishi Fria-. Or have we eaten of the insane root In reason's absence fancy wakes, That takes the reason prisoner? Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. He gave the little wealth he had To build a house for fools and mad; The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up and have ingenious feeling To show by one satiric touch No nation wanted it so much. Of my huge sorrows! better I were distract: SWIFT So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs; And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose The knowledge of themselves.. SHAKSPEARE. Beasts call like, but not distinguish too, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason;n ik ti Nor their own liking by reflection know. Like sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh; DRYDEN. That unmatch'd form, and feature of blown youth, Birds and beasts can fly their foe: Blasted with ecstasy. SHAKSPEARE. So chanticleer, who never saw a fox, Yet shunn'd him as a sailor shuns the rocks. How pregnant, sometimes, his replies are! DRYDEN. A happiness that often madness hits on, Which sanity and reason could not be In the nice bee what sense so subtly true So prosp'rously deliver'd of. From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew? SHAKSPEARE. POPE. 268 INS TINCT. — NTEMPERAN CE. How bees forever, though a monarch reign, Brutes find out where their talents lie: Their sep'rate cells and properties maintain. A bear will not attempt to fly; POPE. A founder'd horse will oft debate Before he tries a five-barr'd gate. Who taught the nations of the field and wood, SWIFT. Prescient, the tides or tempests to withstand? POPE. How instinct varies in the grovelling swine, INTEMPERANCE. Compared, half-reasoning elephant, with thine! What dext'rous thousands just within the goal'Twixt that and reason what a nice barrier! Of wild debauch direct their nightly course. Forever sep'rate, yet forever near. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: POPE. Art of Preservinzg Ifealth. See then the acting and comparing powers, Know whate'er One in their nature, which are two in ours; Beyond its natural fervour hurries on And reason raise o'er instinct as you can, The sanguine tide; whether the frequent bowl, In this'tis God directs, in that'tis man. High-season'd fare, or exercise to toil POPE. Protracted, spurs to its last stage tired life, And sows the temples with untimely snow. Jove's ethereal lays, resistless fire, DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: The chapter's soul and raptured song inspire;t of Peseving ea *'rt ofPreservion' zfezath. Instinct divine! nor blame severe his choice, Warbling the Grecian woes with harp and voice. An anxious stomach well POPE. May be endured; so may the throbbing head: But such a dimn delirium, such a dream Then vainly the philosopher avers Involves you, such a dastardly despair That reason guides our deed, and instinct theirs: s you Unmans your soul, as maddening Pentheus felt Nor can we justly diff'rent causes firame, n e ly ame, When, baited round Cithzeron's cruel sides, When the effects entirely are the same. He saw two suns, and double Thebes ascend. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: Who taught the bee with winds and rains to Art of Preserving Health. strive, Man with raging drink inflamed ro bring her burden to the certain hive; Z__, 1 ~~~~Is far more savage and untamed; And through the liquid fields again to pass, Supplies his loss of wit and sense Duteous, and heark'ning to the sounding brass? ith barb'rousness and insolence. With barb'rousness and insolence. PRIORa. BUTLER: Hltdibras. Tell me why the ant Midst summer's plenty thinks of winter's want; Forever dribbling out their base contents, By constant journeys careful to prepare Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, Her stores, and bringing home the corny ear. Bleed gold for. Bleed gold for ministers to sport with. Drink and be mad, then.'Tis your country bids. Hence, when anatomists discourse COWPER: Task. How like brute organs are to ours, How like brute organs are to ours, Wine is like anger; for it makes us strong, They grant, if higher powers think fit, Blind an impatient, and it leads us wrong:. bear might.oon be made a wit, Blind and impatient, and it leads us wrong: A bear might soon be made a wit, A bar m b made, The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error And that, for anything in nature, Pigs might squeak love-odes, dogs bark satire. long. CRABBE. PRIOR. Some man's wit By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Found th' art of cookery to delight his sense: Ensuing danger; as by proof we see More bodies are consumed and kill'd with it The waters swell before a boisterous storm. Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence. SHAKSPEARE. SIR J. DAVIES. INTE XAPERA NCE. 269 Intemp'rate youth, by sad experience found, The pleasing poison Ends in an age imperfect and unsound. The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, SIR J. DENHAM. And the inglorious likeness of a beast Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage Nor need we tell what anxious cares attend Character'd in the face. The turbulent mirth of wine, nor all the kinds MILTON. Of maladies that lead'to death's grim cave, Wrought by intemperance. Now DRYDEN. As with new wine intoxicated both, To full bowls each other they provoke: They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel At length, with weariness and wine oppress'd, Divinity within them breeding wings They rise from table, and withdraw to rest. Wherewith to scorn the earth. I)RYDEN. MILTON. Far be from hence the glutton parasite, Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, Singing his drunken catches all the night. By fire, flood, famine, by intemp'rance more DRYDEN. In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall He that is drunken ring Is outlaw'd by himself; all kind of ill Diseases dire; of which a monstrous crew Did with his liquor slide into his veins. Before thee shall appear. MILTON. GEORGE HERBERT. Shall I, to please another wine-sprung mind, From the clear milky juice allaying Lose all mine own? God hath given me a Thirst, and refresh'd; nor envied them the grape measure Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with Short of his can and body: must I find fumes. A pain in that wherein he finds a pleasure? MILTON. GEORGE HERBERT. Thou sparkling bowl! thou sparkling bowl! Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, Though lips of bards thy brim may press, Who sleeps in brambles till he kills his man; And eyes of beauty o'er thee roll, Some frolic drunkard, reeling from a feast, And song and dance thy power confess,Provo kes a broil, and stabs him for a jest. Provokes a broil, and stabs him for a jest. I will not touch thee! for there clings. DR. S. JOHNSON: London. A scorpion to thy side, that stings. Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape JOHN PIERPONT. Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine. MILTON. Rash Elpenor, in an evil hour, Dried an immeasurable bowl, and thought ~Desire of wine~T' exhale his surfeit by irriguous sleep, Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing ruby Imprudent: him death's iron sleep opprest. Sparkling, outpour'd, the flavour, or the smell, udent: him death's iron sleep opprest. IJOHN PHILIPS. Or taste, that cheers the hearts of gods and men, Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride MILTON. Turns you from sound philosophy aside; O madness, to think use of strongest wines Not when from plate to plate your eyeballs roll, And strongest drinks our chief support of health; And the brain dances to the mantling bowl. When God, with these forbidden, made choice POPE. to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Or wafting ginger round the streets to go, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. And visit ale-house where ye first did grow. MILlTON: Samison Agonistes. POPE. By hunger, that each other creature tames, Thee shall each ale-house, thee each gill-house Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not moved; mourn, Thy temperance invincible besides. And answering gin-shops sourer sighs return. MILTON. POPE. 270 INTEMPERANCGE.-IWVENTION. This calls the church to deprecate our sin, Boundless intemperance And hurls the thunder of our laws on gin. In nature is a tyranny: it hath been POPE. Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings. In the flowers that wreathe the sparkling bowl, SHAKSPEARE. Fell adders hiss, and pois'nous serpents roll. PRIOR. Through wise handling and fair governance I him recured to a better will, Who drinks, alas! but to forget; nor sees Purged from drugs of foul intemperance. That melancholy sloth, severe disease, SPENTSER Memory confused, and interrupted thought, Then a hand shall pass before thee, Death's harbinger, lie latent in the draught. PRIOR. Pointing to his drunken sleep, To thy widow'd marriage-pillows, Frequent debauch to habitude prevails; To the tears that thou shalt weep. Patience of toil and love of virtue fails. TENNYSON. PRIOR. Their feeble tongues, Fly drunkenness, whose vile incontinence Unable to take up the cumbrous word, Takes both away the reason and the sense: Lie quite dissolved. Before their maudlin eyes, Till With Circazan cups thy mind possest Seen dim and blue, the double tapers dance, Leaves to -be man, and wholly turns a beast. Like the sun wading through the misty sky. THOMAS RANDOLPH. THOMSON. Though I am ol0d, yet I am strong and lusty; A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo'em For in my youth I never did apply To suffer wet damnation to run through'em. Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. TOURNEUR: Revenz6ger's 5Traged0y,. SHAKSPEARE. Oh that men should put an enemy in Their mouths to steal away their brains! that we INVENTION. Should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, Transform ourselves into beasts. Reason, remembrance, wit, inventive art, SHAKSPEARE. No nature, but immortal, can impart. It was excess of wine that set him on, SIR J. DENHAM. And, on his more advice, we pardon him. Mine is th' invention of the charming lyre: SHAKSPEARE. Sweet notes and heav'nly numbers I inspire. DRYDEN. Every inordinate cup Is unbless'd, and th' ingredient is a devil. By improving what was writ before, Oh thou invisible spirit of wine, Invention labours less, but judgment more. If thou hast no name to be known by, let ROSCOMaION. Us call thee devil! SHAKSPEARE. 0 for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! And now, in madness, SHAKSPEARE. Being full of supper and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come Be mindful, when invention fails, To start my quiet? To scratch your head and bite your nails. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT. EALZ4 0 USIY 27I JEALOUSY. She drops a doubtful word that pains his mind, And leaves a rankling jealousy behind. When hard words, jealousies, and fears DRYDEN. Set folks together by the ears. BUTLER: Hudibras. With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives, What phrenzy dictates, jealousy believes. Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it: What penzy dictates, jealousy believes. For jealousy dislikes the world to know it. BYRON. When this disease of jealousy can find A way to seize upon a crazy mind, Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fix'd, A. to Thy. numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fx', Most things, instead of help, or giving ease, Sad proof of thy distressful state: The humour feed, and turn to the disease. Of differing themes the veering song was mix'd, SIR R. HOWARD: Vesia Virgin. And now it courted love, now raving call'd on hate. In gentle love the sweetest joys we find: COLLINS: Passionts. Yet even those joys dire jealousy molests, And blackens each fair image in our breasts. A hateful prattling tongue, LYTTELTON. That blows up jealousies and heightens fears, Can't I another's face comllmend, By muttering pois'ious whispers in men's ears. CREEdCH. And to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead lowers, All jealousy As if her merit lessen'd yours? Must still be strangled in its birth; or time EDWARD MOORE: Fables. Will soon conspire to make it strong enough Shall jealousy a pow'r o'er judgment gain, SITo overcome the truth. DAV CruelThough it does only in the fancy reign? With knowledge thou art inconsistent still: Some morosities The mind's foul monster, whom fair truth does We must expect, since jealousy belongs kill. LoRD ORRERY: Hrealz'y V. To age, of scorn, and tender sense of wrongs. SIR J. DE`NHAIM. From jealousy's tolrmenting strife Forever be thy bosom freed. The rage of jealousy then fired his soul, PRIOR. And his face kindled like a burning coal; Thou, happy creature, art secure Now cold despair succeeding in her stead From all the torments we endure; To livid paleness turns the glowing red. Despair, ambition, jealousy, DRYDEN. Lost friends, nor love, disquiets thee. ROSCOMMiON. Howe'er unjust your jealousy appear, It does my pity, not my anger move: The bitterness and stings of taunting jealousy, I'll fond it as the froward child of love. Vexatious days, and jarring joyless nights, Have driv'n him forth. ROWE. Suspicious and fantastical surmise, Suspicious and fantastical surmise, Oh jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship, And jealousy suffused, with jaundice in her eyes, Thou w orst invader of out' tenlder bosoms, Discolouring all she view'd. DRYDEN. How does thy poison rancour all our softness, And turn our gentle natures into bitterness! She wreaks her anger on her rival's head, ROWE. With furies frights her from her native home, If you are wise, and prize your peace of mind, And drives her, gadding, round the world to Beleve me true, nor listen to your jealousy: roam. aDRYDEN. Let not that devil which undoes your sex, That cursed curiosity, seduce you Like early lovers, whose unpractised hearts To hunt for needless secrets, which, neglected, Were long the May-game of malicious arts, Shall never hurt your quiet, but, once known, When once they find their jealousies were vain, Shall sit upon your heart, pinch it with pain, With double heat renew their fires again. And banish sweet sleep forever from you. DRYDEN. ROWE. 272 27EAI O US Y —7yS TING.- 7E WELS. Trifles, light as air, But through the heart Are to the jealous confirmations strong Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, As proofs of holy writ.'Tis then delightful misery no more, SHAKSPEARE. But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, If you did know to whom I gave the ring, Corroding every thought, and blasting all And how unwillingly I left the ring, Love's paradise. You would abate the strength of your displeasure. THoMsoN. SHAK(SPEARE. O jealousy, each other passion's calm Jealous souls will not be answer'd so: To thee; thou conflagration of the soul! They are not ever jealous for a cause, Thou king of torments! thou grand counterpoise But jealous for they're jealous. For all the transports beauty can inspire. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: Revenzg'e. Doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy. SHAKSPEARE. J ESTIN G. And hbut my nohle Moor I This jest was first of th' other house's making, Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness And five times tried, has never fail'd of taking. As jealous creatures are, it were enough DRYDEN. To put him to ill-thinking. Of all the griefs that harass the distrest, SHAISSPEAR~E. Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest. Alas I why gnaw you so your nether lip? DR. S. JOHNSON: LonZdon. Some bloody passion shakes your very frame; These are portents: but yet I hope, I hope, The pont,, Circles incessant; whilst the humble cell They do not point on me. With quavering laugh and rural jests resounds. JOHN PHILIPS. It is my nature's plague To spy into abuse;- and oft my jealousy Perhaps the jest that charm'd the sprightly Shapes faults that are not. crowd, SHAKSPEARE. And made the jovial table laugh so loud, To some false notion owed its poor pretence. Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine PRIOR. To joyless dread, and mak'st the loving heart With hateful thoughts to languish and to pine se observe him for the sake of ockery, And feed itself with self-consuming smart: Close, in the name of jesting, lie you there. Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. SHAIsPEARE. SPENSER. A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Wrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed; Of him that hears it, never in the tongue The sparks soon quench, the springing weed Of hi that makes it.ARE. otec.SHASPEARE. outweed. SPENSER. He must observe their mood on whom he jests, As the earth may soimetimes shake, The quality of persons, and the time; For winds shut lup will cause a qluakte; IAnd, like the haggard, check at every feather So often jealousy and fear, That comes before his eye. SHAKSPEARE. Stol'n to mine heart, cause tremblings there. SIR J. SUCKLING. This, this has thrown a serpent to my heart, JEWELS. While it o'erflow'd with tenderness, with joy, The bright sun compacts the precious stone, With all the sweetness of exulting love; Imparting radiant lustre like his own; Now nought but gall is there, and burning He tinctures rubies with their rosy hue, poison. And on the sapphire spreads a heavenly blue. TIIOMSON. SIR R. BLACKMIORE. -EWEIS. 273 Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day; Can blazing carbuncles with her compare? But night itself does the rich gem betray. The topaz -sent from scorched Meroe? COWLEY. Or pearls presented by the Indian sea? He furnishes her closet first, and fills SANDYS. The. crowded shelves with rarities of shells; I thought I saw Adds orient pearls, which from the conchs he Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, drew, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels. And all the sparkling stones of various hue. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN.'Tis plate of rare device, and jewels Rich crowns were on their royal scutcheons Of'rich and exquisite form; their value's great; placed, q And I am something curious, being strange, With sapphires, diamonds, and with rubies To have them in safe stowage. graced. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Their long descending train, Rich pearls upon thee. With rubies edged and sapphires, swept the SHAKSPEARE. plain. plainDRYDEN. In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white: Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery. The chiefs about their necks the scutcheons SHAKSPEARE. wore, I see how thy eye would emulate the diamond. WVith orient pearls and jewels powder'd o'er. SHASPARE. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Such another world, He from the glittering staff unfurl'd Th' imperial ensign, streaming to the wind, Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, I'd not have sold her for. With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed, SHAKSPEARE. Seraphic arms and trophies. MILTON. She saw Duessa sunny bright, Adorn'd with gold and jewels shining clear. If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear: SPENsSER. If stone, carbuncle most, or chrysolite. MILTON. 1On her head she wore a tire of gold, MILTON. Adorn'd with gems and ouches. SPENSER. Though the same sun, with all-diffusive rays, Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with Blush in the rose, and in the diamond blaze, mines, We prize the stronger effort of his pow'r, That on the high equator ridgy rise, And always set the gem above the flow'r. And always set the gem above the flow'r. Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays. THOMSON. Asleep and naked as an Indian lay, n a s an ay With light's own smile the yellow topaz burns. Anl honest factor stole a gem away; He pledged it to the knight; the knight had wit, So kept the diamond, and the rogue was bit. Nor deeper verdure dyes the robe of spring, POPE. When first she gives it to the southern gale, Than the green emerald shows. For me the ball shall bleed, and amber flow, THOMSON. The coral redden, and the ruby glow. Like jewels to advantage set, POPE. SPOPl. Her beauty by the shade does get. Shall this prize, SWALLER. Soon heighten'd by the diamond's circling rays, On that rapacious hand forever blaze? proit What offrings may propitiate the fair: Rich orient pearls, bright stones that ne'er deThis casket India's glowing gems unlocks, cay, And all Arabia breathes: from yonder box. Or polish'd lines which longer last than they. POPE. WALLER: I8 274 S3OY JOY. 0 fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Still there's something That checks my joys:-nor can I yet distinguish Which is an apparition, this or that. Wrath shall be no more SIR J. DENHAM: T/he Soylzy. Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. MILTON. Joy is such a foreigner, So mere a stranger to my thoughts, I know All these and more came flocking, but with looks Not how to entertain him. Downcast and damp: yet such wherein appear'd SIR J. DENHAM. Obscure some glimpse of joy. MILTON. All pain and joy is in their way; All pain and joy is in their way; What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The things we fear bring less annoy The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy. Than fear, and hope brings greater joy; POPE.;But in themselves they cannot stay. DONNE. The joy unequall'd, if its end it gain, You come in such a time Without satiety, though e'er so blest, And but more relishc'd as the more distress'd.;As if propitious fortune took a care POPE. To swell my tide of joys to their full height. DRYDEN. There youths and nymphs, in consort gay, Shall hail the rising, close the parting day;'What then remains, but, after past annoy, With me alas with me those joys are o'e'To take the good vicissitude of joy? For me the vernal garlands bloom no more. DRYDEN. POPE. That's my joy - Ere the foundations of this earth were laid, Not to have seen before; for nature now It was, opponent to our search, ordain'd DComes all at once, confounding my delight. That joy still sought should never be attain'd. DRYDEN. PRIOR. PRIOR.'Then on to-morrow's dawn your care employ Thy constant quiet fills my peaceful breast To search the land, but give this day to joy. With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted rest. DRYDEN. RIROSCOMMON. Can you be so hard-hearted to destroy Let her, like me, of ev'ry joy forlorn, -My ripening hopes, that are so near to joy? Devote the hour when such a wretch was born; DRYDEN. Like me, to deserts and to darkness run. ROWE. Be'fdir or foul, or rain or shine, The joys I have possess'd, in spite of fate, are'Tis safer to be that which we destroy, mine. Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. DRYDEN.,HSIIAKSPEARE. We show our present, joking, giggling race Her merry fit she freshly'gan to rear, True joy consists in gravity and grace. And did of joy and jollity devise, GARRICK. Herself to cherish and her guest to cheer. SPENSER. These spiritual joys are dogg'd by no sad sequels. Oh! how impatience gains upon the soul GLANVILLE. When the long-promised hour of joy draws Haste thee, my nymph, and bring with thee near! How slow the tardy moments seem to roll! Jest and youthful jollity, What spectres rise of inconsistent fear! Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek Rash man, forbear! but for some unbelief, And love to live in dimple sleek. My joy had been as fatal as my grief. MILTON. WALLER. yUD GES. 275 To thee alone be praise, Arise, true judges, in your own defence, From whom our joy descends, Control those foplings, and declare for sense; Thou cheerer of our days. For, should the fools prevail, they'll stop not WOTTON.there, How exquisite is pleasure after pain 4 But make their next descent upon the fair. Why throbs my heart so turbulently strong, DRYDEN. Pain'd at thy presence; this redundant joy,- Some on the bench the knotty laws untie. Like a poor miser, beggar'd by his store? DRYDEN. YOUNG. The women-w''ho would rather wrest the laws Than let a sister plaintiff lose the cause, JUDGES. As judges on the bench more gracious are And more attent to brothers of the barWere I a drowsy judge, whose dismal note Cried, one and all, the suppliant should have Disgorgeth halters, as a juggler's throat right, Doth rihands. And to the grandame hag adjudged the knight. CLEAVELAND. DRYDEN. Our judges, like our laws, were rude and plain. He softens the hard rigour of the laws, COWLEY. Blunts their keen edge, and grinds their harpy The solemn fop, significant and budge, claws. GARTIs. A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge. COWPER: ConzversaZion. The gods Grow angry with yourpatience:'tis their care, To follow foolish precedents, and wink And must be yours, that guilty men escape not: With both our eyes, is easier than to think. With both or eyes, is easier than to think. As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself. COWPER: Tirocinium. BEN JNSN BEN JONSON: Calililac. When pronouncing sentence, seem not glad: When prno sentence, see not la You'd mollify a judge, would cram a squire; Such spectacles, though they are just, are sad. Or else some smiles frlom court you may desire. SIR J. DENHAM. DR. WM. IING. When a man's life is in debate, For in a government The judge caDn ne'er too long deliberate. Th' offence is greater in the instrument DRYDEN. That hath the power to punish; and in laws They're pleased to hear their thick-skull'd judges The author's trespass makes the foulest cause. cry, NABBES. " Well moved!" " Oh, finely said!" The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, And wretches hang that jurymen may dine. Those whom form of laws POPE. Condemn'd to die, when traitors judged their The judge, to dance, his brother setjeant call; cause, ~~~~~~cause, ~The senator at cricket urge the ball. Nor want they lots, nor judges to review POPE. The wrongful sentence, and award anew. DRYDEN. Judges and senates have been bought for gold; Esteem and love were never to be sold. Awful Rhadamanthus rules the state; He hears and judges each committed crime, Inquires into the manner, place, and time. Causes unjudged disgrace the loaded file, DRYDEN. And sleeping laws the king's neglect revile. PRIOR. 0 Tyburn, couldst thou reason and dispute, Couldst thou but judge as well as execute, While the fierce monk does at his trial stand, How often wouldst thou change the felon's He chews revenge, abjuring his offence; doom, Guile in his tongue, and murder in his hand, And truss some stern chief justice in his room! He stabs his judge to prove his innocence. DRYDEN. PRIsOR. 276 yD_7 GES.- rUD GJMENT. The judlge corrupt, the long-depending cause, You are mine enemy; I make my challenge, And doubtful issue of misconstrued laws. You shall not be my judge. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. If little faults, proceeding, or distemper They in the scorner's or the judge's seat If little faults, proceeding, or distemper Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch Dare to condemn the virtue which theyr hate. PRIOR. our eye When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and Her very judges wrung their hands for pity; digested, Their old hearts melted in them as she spoke, Appear before us? And tears ran down upon their silver beards. SHAKSPEARE. ROWE: Lady _7anze Gr-ey. I have seen, The supernal Judge that stirs good thoughts Wthen after execution judgment hath In any breast of strong authority Repented o'er his doom. To look into the blots and stains of right. SHARSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The god of wit, to show his grudge, Clapt ass's ears upon the judge. And then the justice, SWIFT. In fair round belly, with good capon lined, There was on both sides much to say: With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,, He'd hear the cause another day. Full of wise saws and modern instances: And so he did; and then a third And so he plays his part. SHAR(SPEARE. He heard it: there he kept his word; But with rejoinders or replies, The sad-eyecld justice, with his surly hum, Long bills, and answers stuff'd with lies, Delivers o'er to executors Pale Demur, imparlance, and essoign, SAPEAREThe lazy yawning drone. The parties ne'er could issue join: SHAKSPEARE. For sixteen years the cause was spun, A man busied about decrees, And then stood where it first begun. Condemning some to death, and some to exile, SWIFT: CadenuIs and Vanessra. Ransoming him or pitying, threatening the other. It well becomes that judge to nod at crimes SHAKSPEARE. That does commit greater himself, and lives. He who the sword of heaven will bear TOURNEUR: Revenge-'s i-rgedy. Should be as holy as severe; Nor envies when a gypsy you commit, Pattern in himself to know, And shake the clumsy bench with country wit; Grace to stand, and virtue go. When you the dullest of dull things have said, SHAKSPEARE. And then ask pardon for the jest you made. YOUNG: Love of Fam^e. Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. SHAKSPEARE. JUDGMENT. I charge you by the law, Men's judgments sway on that side fortune leans. \Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, GEORGE CIIAPMAN: TVidozw's Tear-s. Proceed to judgment. SHAKtSPEARE. SO strong a wit did Nature to him frame As all things but his judgment overcame; You are a worthy judge; IHis judgment like the heavenly moon did show, You know the law: your exposition Tempering that mighty sea below. Hath been most sound. COWLEY. SHARSPEARE. If judgment could in solemn dulness lie, They choose their magistrate! Which weaker rulers wear for gravity, And such a one as he, who puts his shall, Then those must needs transcendent judgments His popular shall, against a graver bench have Than.ever frown'd in Greece. That would instruct wise natures to be grave. SHAKSPEA RE. SIR W. DAVENANT. yUD GMENT. 277 When we judge, our minds we mirrors make, No longer now does my neglected mind And as those glasses which material be Its wonted stores and old ideas find: Forms of material things do only take, Fix'd judgment there no longer does abide, For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see. To taste the true, or set the false aside. SIR J. DAVIES. PRIOR. His severe judgment giving law, Against experience he believes, His modest fancy kept in awe. He argues against demonstration, SIR J. DENHAM. Pleased when his reason he deceives, And sets his judgment by his passion. Let none direct thee what to do or say, Till thee thy judgment of the matter sway; PRIOR Let not the pleasing many thee delight; I see men's judgments are First judge, if those whom thou doust please, A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward judge right. SIR J. DENHAM. Do draw the inward quality after them, SIR J. DENHAM. To suffer all alike. Their difference to measure, and to reach, SHAKSPEARE. Reason well rectified must nature teach; And these high scrutinies are subjects fit Your dishonour For man's all-sehgarchi. n arnd inquiring wit. Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state For man's all-searching and inquiring wit. SIR J. DENHAM. Of that integrity which should become it. SHAKSPEARE. Know'st with an equal hand to hold the scale, See'st where the reasons pinch, and where they Give him heedful note; fail, For I mine eyes will rivet to his face; And where exceptions o'er the general rule pre- And, after, we will both our judgments join, vail. In censure of his seeming. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. For favours cheap and common who would You praise yourself strive? B3y'laying defects of judgment to me. Vet scatter'd here and there I some behold SHAKSPEARE. Who can discern the tinsel from the gold. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Reserve thy state; with better judgment check in short, so swift your judgments turn and wind, This hideous rashness. You cast our fleetest wits a mile behind. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Blest are those Ihe nicest eye could no distinction make Whose blood and judgment are so well comWhere lay the advantage, or what side to take. mingled DRYDEN. That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger In things which most concern, To sound what stop she please. Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. HASPEARE, MILTLON. His yeals but young, but his experience old; Seized and tied down to judge, how wretched I! His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe. Who can't be silent, and who will not lie: SHAKSPEARE. To laugh were want of goodness and of grace; And to be grave, exceeds all power of face. How little do they see what is, who frame POPE. Their hasty judgment upon that which seems! SOUTHEY.'Tis with our judgments as our watches: none Go just alike, yet each believes his own. Ev'n not all these, in one rich lot combined, POPE. Can make the happy man, without the mind, If we look more closely, we shall find Where judgment sits clear-sighted, and surveys Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind. The chain of reason with unerring gaze. POPE. THOMSON. 278 yus T. — yUST IcE. JUST. Take physic, Pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, The man resolved, and steady to his trust, Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just,' That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just. Can the rude rabble's influence despise. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. ADDISON, Be just in all thy actions, and if joid We may not think the justness of each act Be just in all thy actions, and if join'cd With those that are not, never change thy mind;Such and no other than event doth form it. If aught obstruct thy course, yet stand not still, SHARSPEARE. But wind about till thou hast topp'd the hill. The man that's resolute and just, SIR J. DENHAM. Firm to his principles and trust, Be just in all you say, and all you do, Nor hopes nor fears can blind. WALSH. Whatever be your birth, you're sure to be A peer of the first magnitude to me. DRYDEN. JUSTICE. Take it, while yet'tis praise, before my rage, The base degenerate age requires Unsafely just, break loose on this bad age. Severity and justice in its rigour; DRYDEN. This awes an impious bold offending world. ADDISON. WVhen men's intents are wicked, their guilt haunts them; Justice is their virtue: that alone But when they're just they're arm'cl, and no- Makes them sit sure, and glorifies the throne. thing daunts them. DANIEL. M IDDLETON. Justice, when equal scales she holds, is blind: This is true glory, and renown, when God, Nor cruelty nor mercy change her mind: Loolking on the earth, with approbation marlks When some escape for that which others die, The just man, and divulges him through heav'n to those, to these is cruelty. To all his angels, who with true applause SIR J. DENHAM. R~ecount his praises. MILTON. Justice, that sits and frowns where public laws Exclude soft mercy from a private cause, God will deign In your tribunal most herself does please; To visit oft the dwellings of just men There only smiles, because she lives at ease. Delighted. DRYDEN. MILTON. Justice to merit does weak aid afford: The just shall dwell, She quits the balance, and resigns the sword. And, after all their tribulations long, DRYDEN. See golden days fruitful of golden deeds. MILTON. MY secret wishes would my choice decide; But open justice bends to neither side. Just men they seem'd, and all their study bent DRYDEN. To worship God aright, and know his works. Justice must punish the rebellious deed; Yet punish so, as pity shall exceed. Since living virtue is with envy cursed, DRYDEN. And the best men are treated like the worst, If justice will take all, and nothing give, Do thou, just goddess, call our merits forth, Justice, methinks, is not distributive. And give each deed th' exact, intrinsic worth. DRYDEN. POPE. One rising, eminent Just of thy word, in ev'ry thought sincere, In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, Who knew no wish but what the world might Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, hear. And judgment from above. POPE. MILTON. rUSTICE. 279 So near approach we their celestial kind Her suit is now to repossess those lands; By justice, truth, and probity of mind. Which we in justice cannot well deny. POPE. SHAKSPEAREo Impartial justice holds her equal scales, Foul subornation is predominant, Till stronger virtue does the weight incline; And equity exiled your highness' land. If over thee thy gloriousfoe prevails, SHAKSPEARE. He now defends the cause that once was thine.Force would be right; or rather, right and PRIOR. wrong, Yet shall the axe of justice hew him down, Between whose endless jar justice presides, And level with the root his lofty crown. Would lose their names, and so would justice too. SANDYS. SHAKSPEARE. Isabella.-Yet show some pity! Even-handed justice Antzgelo.-I show it most of all when I show Returns th' ingredients of our poison'd chalice justice; To our own lips. For then I pity those I do not know, SHAKSPEARE. Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall; What stronger breast-plate than a heart un And do him right, that, answering one foul tainted? wrong, Thrice is he arm'd who hath his quarrel just, Lives not to act another. SHAKISPEARE. And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Though justice be thy plea, consider this,- Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. That in the course of justice, none of us SHAKSPEARE. Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; Where justice grows, there grows the greater And that same prayer doth teach us all to render grace, The deeds of mercy. The which doth quench the brand of hellisl SHAKSPEARE. smart. Plate sin with gold, SPENSER. And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Nor would, for gold or fee, Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. Be won their rightful causes down to tread. None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able SPENSER.'em: Talke that of me, my friend. If but one virtue did adorn a king, SHAKSPEARE. It would be justice; many great defects All friends shall taste Are veil'd thereby: whereas each virtuous thing In one who is not just, the world suspects. The wages of their virtue, and all foes EARL OF STIRLING: Da)rizs. The cups of their deserving. SHAKSPEARE. Of mortal justice if thou scorn the rod, Believe and tremble: thou art judged of God. The honour'd gods SWETNAM. Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice Supply with worthy men. Justice, like lightning, ever should appear SHAKSPEARE. To few men's ruin, but to all men's fear. Poise the cause in justice' equal scales, SWETNAM: Woman-Hater. Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause Of all virtues justice is the best; prevails. Valour without it is a common pest. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. 280 XKINiDVESS.-KINfGS. KINDNESS. Kings, by grasping more than they could hold, First made their subjects by oppression bold; Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore And popular sway, by forcing kings to give Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore. BYRON. More than was fit for subjects to receive, Ran to the same extremes; and one excess To rest the weary, and to soothe the sad, Made both, by striving to be greater, less. Doth lesson happier men, and shames at least SIR J. DENHAI. the bad. BYRON. On the cold earth lies th' unregarded king, A headless carcass, and a nameless thing.'Tis the first sanction nature gave to man, SIR J. DENHAM. Each other to assist in what they can. SIR J. DENHAM. He, looking down With scorn or pity on the slippery state Kindness by secret sympathy is tied; Kindness by secret sympathy is tied; Of kings, will tread upon the neck of fate. For noble souls in nature are allied. SIR J. DENHAM. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Men do not stand You have yourself your kindness overpaid: In so ill case that God hath with his hand He ceases to oblige who can upbraid. Sign'd kings blank charters to kill whom they DRYDEN. hate, Since trifles make the sum of human things, Nor are they vicars, but hangmen to fate. And half our misery from our foibles springs; DONNE. Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease,'Tis true from force the noblest title springs: And few can save or serve, but all may please; I therefore hold from that which first made kings. Oh! let th' ungentle spirit learn from hence DRYDEN. A small unkindness is a great offence. Large bounties to restore we wish in vain, Doom, as they please, my empire not to stand, But all may shun the guilt of giving pain. I'll grasp my sceptre with my dying hand. HANNAH MORE. DRYDEN. In nature there's no blemish but the mind; You that are a sov'reign prince, allay None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkindl: Imperial pow'r with your paternal sway. Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous, evil, DRYDEN. Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil. His awful presence did the crowd surprise, POPE. Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes; Kindness has resistless charms; Eyes that confess'd him born for kingly sway, All things else but weakly move; So fierce they flash'd intolerable day. Fiercest anger it disarms, DRYDEN. And clips the wings of flying love. EARL OF ROCHESTER. He who late a sceptre did command Now grasps a floating fragment in his hand. Yet do I fear thy nature; DRYDEN. It is too full o' the milk of human kindness. SHARSPEARE. But peaceful kings, o'er martial people set, Each other's poise and counterbalance are. DRYDEN. KINGS. My crown is absolute, and holds of none: Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms I cannot in a base subjection live; Against the lords and sovereigns of the world? Nor suffer you to take, though I would give. ADDISON. DRYDEN: Indian Enmero-r. From the monarch's virtue subjects take Kings' titles commonly begin by force, Th' ingredient which does public virtue make: Which time wears off, and mellows into right; At his bright beam they all their tapers light, And power which in one age is tyranny And by his dial set their motion right. Is ripen'd in the next to true succession. SIR W. DAVENANT: To the King. DRYDEN: Spanish/ Friar. KNVGS. 281 You shall be still plain Torrismond with me, A crown! what is it? Th' abettor, partner (if you like the name), Is it to bear the miseries of a people! The husband of a tyrant,-but no king, To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents, Till you deserve that title by your justice. And sink beneath a load of splendid care? DRYDEN: Splznisz friar. HANNAH MORE: Daniel. Nor shall the sacred character of king Thus states were form'd, the name of king unBe urged, to shield me from thy bold appeal: known, If I have injured thee, that makes us equal. Till common interest placed the sway in one: DRYDEN.'Twas virtue only, or in arts or arms, Where was then Diffusing blessings, or averting harms; The same which in a sire the son obey'd The power that guards the sacred lives of kings? A prince the father of a people made. Why slept the lightnings and the thunderbolts,. Or bent their idle rage on fields and trees, When vengeance call'd'em here? When love was all an easy monarch's care, DRYDEN. Jilts ruled the state, and statesmen farces writ. Luxurious kings are to their people lost; They live, like drones, upon the public cost. Behold four kings, in majesty revered, DRYDEN. With hoary whiskers and a forky beard. When kings grow stubborn, slothful, or unwise,POPE. Each private man for public good should rise. Not youthful kings in battle seized alive DRYDEN. E'er felt such grief, such terror, and despair. POPE. He had been base had he released his right: For such an empire none but kings should fight. Admire we, then, DRvDEN. Or popularity, or stars, or strings, The mob's applauses, or the gifts of kings? Empire! thou poor and despicable thing, POPE. When such as these make or unmake a king. DRYDEN. They gave and she transferr'd the curst advice, That monarchs should their inward soul disguise,'Twixt kings and tyrants there's this diffrence Dissemble and command, be false and wise; known,- By ignominious arts, for servile ends, Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their own. Should compliment their foes, and shun their HERRICK. friends. PRIOR. Princes that would their people should do well, A mighty king I am, an earthly god; Must at themselves begin, as at the head; I raise or sinkl, imprison or set fiee; For men by their example pattern out And life or death depends on my decree. Their imitations, and regard of laws: PRIOR. A virtuous court a world to virtue draws. BEN JONSON: Cynlthia's Revels. What is a king? A man condemn'd to beai The public burthen of the nation's care; A crown, Now crown'd some angry faction to appease, Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns; Now falls a victim to the people's ease. Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless PRIOR. nights, To him who wears the regal diadem. Unbounded power and height of greatness give MILTON. TO kings that lustre which we think divine; The wise, who know'em, know they are but In himself was all his state; men; More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits Nay, sometimes weak ones too. The crowd, On princes; when their rich retinue long, indeed, Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold, Who kneel before the image, not the god, Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. Worship the deity their hands have made. MILTON. ROWE: Ambitious Stepmoter. 282 JZIVGS.- XANA VES. Princes have but their titles for their glories, Our coronation done, we will accite, An outward honour for an inward toil; As I before remember'd, all our state; And for unfelt imaginations And (Heav'n consigning to my good intents) They often feel a world of restless cares: No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say, So that between their title and low name Heav'n shorten Harry's happy life one day. There's nothing differs but the outward fame. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect The king-becoming graces, That private men enjoy? As justice, verity, temp'rance, stableness, And what have kings that privates have not too, Bounty, persev'rance, mercy, lowliness, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, SIIAKSPEARE. I have no relish of them. He makes for England, here to claim the crown. SHAKSPEARE. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unsway'd? There's such divinity doth hedge a king Is the king dead? That treason can but peep to what it would, SHAKSPEARE. Acts little of his will. Acts little of hisEARE. wThen, happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. The hearts of princes kiss obedience, SASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits They swell and grow as terrible as storms. Let us sit upon the ground, SHARSPEARE. And tell sad stories of the death of kings: How some have been deposed, some slain in war, The king's name is a tow'r of strength, Some haunted by the ghosts they dispossess'd, Which they upon the adverse faction want. Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping SHAKSPEARE.k Awake, thou sluggard majesty! thou sleepest: All murder'd. Is not the king's name forty thousand names? SHASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. They rise with fear, and lie with danger down: Huge are the cares that wait upon the crown. Shall the figure of God's majesty, 6,~~~ ~~EARL OF STIRLING: Darius. His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crown'd, and planted many years, A prince, the moment he is crown'd, Be judged by subject and inferior breath? Inherits every virtue round, SHAKSPEARE. As emblems of the sovereign pow'r, Like other baubles of the Tow'r. Within the hollow crown SWIFT.'rhat rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court; and there the antick sits, The man whom heav'n appoints Soffing his state.,To govern others, should himself first learn SHAKSPEARE. To bend his passions to the sway of reason. THOMSON: T7ancred aznd Siismsztlzda. When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, Such kings We are denied access unto his person, Favour the innocent, repress the bold, Ev'n by those men that most have done us And, while they flourish, make an age of gold. wrong. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. A substitute shines brightly as a king, KNAVES. Unless a king be by; and then his state A knave's a knave to me in ev'ry state; Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Alike my scorn if he succeed or fail; Into the main of waters. Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave When this was once a king, and now is clay? Shall walk the world in credit to his grave. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. KNOWZLEDGE. 283 KNOWLEDGE. Can knowledge have no bound, but must Man loves knowledge, and the beams of truth advance More welcome touch his understanding's eye So far to make us wish for ignorance? Than all the blandishments of sound his ear, rather in the dark to grope our way, Than all of taste his tongue. Than, led by a false guide, to err by day? AKENSIDE. SIR J. DENHAM. The mind of man is this world's true dimension; The tree of knowledge, blaste by disputes, Produces sapless leaves instead of fruits. And knowledge is the measure of the mind:ess leaves instead of fruits. And as the mind in her vast comprehension Sr J. DENHAM. Contains more worlds than all the world can Though the offending part felt mortal pain, find, Th' immortal part its knowledge did retain. So knowledge doth itself far more extend SIR J. DENHAM. Than all the minds of man can comprehend. If our lives' motions theirs must imitate, Our knowledge like our blood must circulate. Knowledge is not happiness, and science SIR J. DENHAM. Btut an exchange of ignorance for that Till through those clouds the sun of knowledge Which is another kind of ignorance. BY~RON: Ma~;ed. brake, And Europe from her lethargy did wake. Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most SIR J. DENHAM. Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth: Search not to find what lies too deeply hid; The tree of knowledge is not that of life. Nor to know things whose knowledge is forbid. BYRON: Maznfred. SIR J. DENHAM. Hie did the utmost bounds of knowledge find, Who in deep mines for hidden knowledge toils, Yet found them not so large as was his mind. Like gulls o'ercharged, breaks, misses, or recoils. COWLEY. SIR J. DENHAM. Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, You-are good, but from a nobler cause; Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge From your owti knowledge, not from nature's dwells laws. In heads replete with thoughts of other men, DRYDEN. W'Visdom in minds attentive to their own. Of all your knowledge this vain fruit you have; COWPE R. To walk with eyes broad open to the grave. Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so DRYDEN. much; Knowledge of all avails the hmnan kind; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. - For all beyond the grave are joys of mind. COWPER.OGG. Here in this world they do much knowledge Mother of science, now I feel thy power read, Within me clear, not only to discern And are the casements which admit most light. Things in their causes, but to trace the ways SIR J. DAVIES. Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. MILTON. First in man's mind we find an appetite To learn and know the truth of everything; Gently instructed I shall hence depart, Which is connatural, and born with it. Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill SIR J. DAVIES. Of knowledge what this vessel can contain. MILTrON. Through seas of knowledge we our course advance, The wish to know-the endless thirst, Discov'ring still new worlds of ignorance Which even by quenching is awaked, And these discov'ries make us all confess And which becomes or bless'd or cursed, That sublunary science is but guess. As is the fount whereat'tis slaked. SIR J. DENHAM. MOORE': Loves of the Angels. 284 KNO WI ED GE. — LAB 0 UR. Life's stream hurries all too fast; Knowledge descries alone, wisdom applies; In vain sedate reflections we would make, That makes some fools, this maketh none but When half our knowledge we must snatch, not wise. take, In my afflictions, knowledge apprehends POPE. Who is the author, what the cause and ends: It finds that patience is my sad relief, Some secret truths, from learned pride con- that 2,~~~ ~And that the hand that caused can cure my ceal'd, ~~~~~~ceal'~~d, ~grief. To maids alone and children are reveal'd; QUARLES. What though no credit doubting wits may give, Ey knowledge we do learn ourselves to klnow, The fair and innocent shall still believe. And what to man and what to God we owe. POPE. SPENSER. Let knowledge grow firom more to more, Remember that the cursed desire to know, But more of reverence in us dwell' Offspring of Adam! was thy source of woe: t m That mind and soul, according well, Why wilt thou, then, renew the vain pursuit, a May make one music as before. And rashly catch at the forbidden fruit? TENNYSON: I7z Se~llzo;~'i~Z. With empty labour and eluded strife, Seeking by knowledge to attain to life. 0 fertile head, which ev'ry year PRIOR. Could such a crop of wonders bear! Which, might it never have been cast, Knowledge, when wisdom is too weak to guide Each year's growth added to the last, her, The lofty branches had supplied Is like a headstrong horse that throws the rider. The earth's bold sons prodigious pride. QUARLES. ~WALLER. LABOUR. I The field To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, From labour health, from health contentment, Though after sleepless night. spring;. Contentment opes the source of every joy. BEATTIE: Mi/zstlel. God hath set Labour and rest, as day and night, to men, Come, my fair love! our morning's task we lose: Successive. Some labour e'en the easiest life would choose: MILTON. Ours is not great; the dangling boughs to crop, Man hath his daily work of body or mind Whose too luxuriant growth our alleys stop. DRYDEN. Appointed, which declares his dignity; While other animals unactive range, With lifted arms they order every blow, And of their doings God takes no account. And chime their sounding hammers in a row; MILTON. With labour'cl anvils /Etna groans below. DRYDEN. Not so strictly hath our Lord imposed Labour, as to debar us when we need If little labour, little are our gains: Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, Man's fortunes are according to his pains. Food of the mind. HERRICK. MILTON. Let us, then, be up and doing, Great things of small With a heart for any fate; One can create, and, in what place soe'er, Still achieving, still pursuing, Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain, Learn to labour and to wait. Through labour and endurance. LONGFELLOW. MILTON. LAB O UR. -1ANDSCAPES. 285 Yet hence the poorare clothed, the hungry fed, Low at his foot a spacious plain is placed, Health to himself, and to his infants bread, Between the mountain and the stream embraced; The lab'rer bears. Which shade and shelter from the hill derives, POPE. While the kind river wealth and beauty gives. Anxious pains we all the day, SIR J. DENHAM. In search of what we like, employ; In search of what we like, employ; A sylvan scene, which, rising by degrees, Scorning at night the worgthless prey, Leads up the eye below, nor gluts the sight We find the labour gave the joy. PRIOR. With one full prospect, but invites by many To view at last the whole. If all the world were playing holidays, DRYDEN. To sport would be as tedious as to work;s that sylvan scene to take But when they seldom come, they wish'cl-for Where whistling winds uncertain shadows make; come. Or will you to the cooler cave succeed, SHAKSPEARE. Whose mouth the curling vines have overspread? DRYDEN. Service shall with steeled sinews toil, And labour shall refresh itself with hope. In the midst of this fair-valley stood SHAKSPEARE. A native theatre, which, rising slow, By just degrees o'erlook'd the ground below. The sweet thoughts do even refresh my labour, DRYDEN. Most busiless when I do it. STIAKSPEARE. Now the dew with spangles deck'd the ground, A sweeter spot of earth was never found, DRYDEN. Mars what it does, yea, very force entangles Itself with strength. Let purling streams be in her fancy seen, SHAKSPEARE. And flow'ry meads, and vales of cheerful green. He cannot long hold out these pangs, DRYDEN. Th' incessant care and labour of his mind. The carpet ground shall be with leaves o'erSHAKSPEARE. spread, But after labours long, and sad delay, And boughs shall weave a covering for your Bring them to joyous rest, and endless bliss. head. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Ever charming, ever new, Our ardent labours for the toys we seek When will the landscape tire the view? Join night to day, and Sunday to the week. DYER: Grong'ar Hill. YOUNG. Murm'ring waters fall Down the slope hills dispersed, or in a lake, That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd LANDSCAPES. Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. MILTON. But I've already troubled you too long, Nor dare attempt a more advent'rous song: About me round I saw My humble verse demands a softer theme, Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, A painted meadow, or a purling stream. And liquid lapse of murm'ring streams. ADDISON. MILTON. Where silver lakes, with verdant shadows A mountain, at whose verdant feet crown'd, A spacious plain, outstretch'd in circuit wide, Disperse a grateful chillness all around. Lay pleasant. ADDISON. See the sweet brooks in silver mazes creep, The quaint mazes in the wanton green, Enrich the meadows, and supply the deep. For want of tread, are undistinguishable. SIR R. BLACKMORE. MILTON. 286 LANzDSC4PES.-LA UGHTER. — LA W O'er the smooth enameli'd green, And while it lasts, let buffoohilery succeed, Where no print of step hath been, To make us laugh; for never was more need. Follow me as I sing. DRYDEN. MILTON. Laugh not too much; the witty man laughs Fortunate fields, and groves, and fiov'ry vales: least: Thrice happy isles! MILTON. For wit is news only to ignorance: Less at thine own things laugh; lest in the jest There, interspersed in lawns and op'ning glades, Thy person share, and the conceit advance. Thin trees arise that shun each other's shades. GEORGE HERBERT. POPE. Sport, that wrinkled care derides, Here, arm'd with silver bows, in early dawn, And Laughter, holding both his sides; Her buskin'd virgins traced the dewy lawn. Come and trip it, as you go, POPE. On the light fantastic toe. Who for thy table feeds the wanton fawn, MILTON. For him as kindly spreads the flow'ry lawn. At all I laugh, he laughs no doubt; POPE. The only difference is, I dare laugh out. Make Windsor's hills in lofty numbers rise, And lift her turrets nearer to the skies. Laugh at your friends; and if your fi-iends are POPE. sore, Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, So much the better, you may laugh the more. Here earth and water seem to strive again. POPE. POPE. To laugh were want of goodness and of grace; Here, in full light, the russet plains extend; And to be grave, exceeds all power of face. There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills ascend. POPE. POPE. Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown coarse, My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down. And loves you best of all things but his horse. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. There fall those sapphire-colour'd brooks, Madness, we fancy, gave an ill-timed birth Which, conduit-like, with curious crooks, To grinning laughter and to frantic mirth. Sweet islands make in that sweet land. PRIOR. SIR P. SIDNEY. We look before and after, And pine for what is not; On each hand the gushing waters play, An pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter And down the rough cascade white dashing fall,est laughter With some pain is fraught. Or gleam in lengthen'd vistas through the trees. SHELLEYW THOMSON. Folly painting humour, grave himself, Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge, Calls laughter forth. The glow-worm lights his gem. THOMSON. THOMSON. LAW. LAUGHTER. Shall poesy, like law, turn wrong to right, Sometimes a violent laughter screw'd his face, And dedications wash an 2Ethiop white? And sometimes ready tears dropp'd down apace. COWVLEY. See they suffer death; Soft elocution doth thy style renown, But in their deaths remember they are men: Gentle or sharp, according to thy choice, Strain not the laws to make their torture grievTo laugh at follies, or to lash at vice. ous. DRYDEN. ADDISON. LAW. 287 Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights, Oaths were not purposed more than law The gen'rous plan of power deliver'd down To keep the good and just in awe, From age to age to your renown'-d forefathers. But to confine the bad and sinful, ADDISON. Like moral cattle in a pinfold. BUTLER: IZtdibras. Could any but a knowing prudent cause Begin such motions, and assign such laws? This forced the stubborn'st, for the cause, If the great Mind had form'd a different frame, To cross the cudgels to the laws, Might not your wanton wit the system blame? That what by breaking them't had gain'd SIR R. BLACKMORE. By their support might be maintain'd. BUTLER: lr21di/(bl'-s. A conscious, wise, reflecting cause, Which freely moves, and acts by reason's laws, Release the lab'lrers for the cause. That can deliberate means elect, and find Their due connection with the end design'd. SIR R. BLACKMORE. The law, that settles all you do, Alnd marries where you did but woo, Nature's law, and unrepeal'd command, And if it judge upon your side, That gives to lighter things the greatest height. Will soon extend her for your bride, SIR R. BLACKMORE. And put her person, goods, or lands, Laws do not put the least restraint Or which you like best, int' your hands. Upon bur freedom, but maintain't;BUTLER: idus. Or if it does,'tis for our good, No choice was left his feelings or his pride, To give us freer latitude; Save death or Doctors' Commons-so he died. For wholesome laws preserve us free BYRON. By stinting of our liberty. Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six, B3UTLER: ]ztdibras. Four spend in prayer, the rest on nature fix. He that with injury is grieved, Quoted in Latin by SIR E. COKE. And goes to law to be relieved, God gave him reverence of laws, Is sillier than a sottish chouse Yet stirring blood in freedom's cause,Who, when a thief has robb'd his house, A spirit to the rocks a A spirit to the rocks aklin, Applies himself to cunning men The eye of the hawk, and the fire therein. To help him to his goods again. BUTLER: Hudibiras. LERIDGE WWhere honour or where conscience does not Witnesses, like watches, go Just as they're set, too fast or slow; No other law shall shackle me; And, where in conscience they're strait-laced, Slave to myself I will not be,'Tis ten to one that side is-cast. Nor shall my future actions be confined BUTLER: fitd'ib vs. By my own present mind. Until with subtle cobweb cheats, COWLEY, They're catch'd in knotted law, like nets; French laws forbid the female reign, In which, when once they are imbrangled, Yet love does them to slavery draw. The more they stir, the more they're tangled. COWLEY. BUTLER: Hudibr-as. To give religion her unbridled scope, Why should not conscience have vacation, Nor judge by statute a believer's hope. As well as other courts o' th' nation? CO\PER: 7zble-Talk. IHave equal power to adjourn, Thus look'd he proudly on the vulgar crew, Appoint appearance anld return? Whonm statutes govern, and whom fears subdue. BUTLER: HudibrEas. CRABBE. What's justice to a man, or laws, Laws support those crimes they check'd before, That never comes within their claws? And executions now affright no more. BUTLER: firdcibras. CREECIH. 288 LAW4 TV The fix'd, unalterable laws, With your cost you terminate the cause, Settling the same effect on the same cause.. And save th' expense of long litigious laws, CREECH. Where suits are traversed, and so little won The Norman conquering all by might, That he who conquers is but last undone. Mixing our customs, and the form of right, DRYDEN. WVith foreign constitutions he had brought. If men forswear the deeds and bonds they draw, DANIEL. Though sign'd with all formality of law, One says, he never should endure the sight And though the signing and the seal proclaim Of that forsworn, that wrongs both lands and The barefaced perjury, and fix the shame. laws.. DRYDEN. DANIEL.:Behold the law The laws are sinfully contrived. Justice And rule of beings in your Maker's mind; Should weigh the present crime, not future And thence, like limbecs, rich ideas draw, Inference on deeds. To fit the levell'd use of human kind. SIR W. DAVENANT: 7ust Italian. DRYDEN. If then a man, on light conditions, gain To kill man-killers man has lawful pow'r, A great estate to him and his, forever, But not th' extended license to devour. If wilfully he forfeit it again, DRYDEN. Who doth bemoan his heir, or blame the giver? To swear he saw three inches through a door, SIR J. DAVIES. As Asiatic evidences swore. DRYDEN. When she from sundry arts one skill doth draw; Gath'ring from divers fights one act of war; Since once the living villains dare emplead, From many causes like, one rule of law: Arraign them in the persons of the dead. These her collections, not the senses are. DRYDEN. SIR J. DAVIES. Nor seek to know Their process, or the formts of law below. As chymists gold from brass by fire would draw, Their process, or the forms of law below. DRYDEN. Pretexts are into treason forged by law. SIR J. DENHA{M. I beg your greatness not to give the law He that dares to die In other realms; but beaten, to withdraw. May laugh at the grim face of law, and scorn DRYDEN. The cruel wrinkle of a tyrant brow. Then those, whom form of laws SIR J. DENHAM. Condemn'd to die, when traitors judged their Then withdraw cause. From Cambridge, thy old nurse; and, as the DRYDEN. rest, Were he not by law withstood, Here toughly chew and sturdily digest He'd manifest his own in human blood. Th' immense vast volumes of our common law. DRYDEN. DONNE. You should be hunted like a beast of prey; Not pedant's motley tongue, soldier's bombast, By your own law I take your life away. Mountebank's drug-tongue, nor the terms of DRYDEN. law, No law betwixt two sov'reigns can decide Are strong enough preparatives to draw But that of arms, where fortune is the judge, Me to hear this. Meter.DONNE. Soldiers the lawyers, and the bar the field. DRYDEN. Wise legislators never yet could draw A fox within the reach of commwon law: Needless was written law, where none opprest; The law of man was written in his breast. For posture, dress, grimace, and affectation, The law of man was written in his breast. DRYDEN. Though foes to sense, are harmless to the nation. Our last redress is dint of verse to try, Unhappy man! to break the pious laws And satire is our court of chancery. Of nature, pleading in his children's cause! DRYDEN. DRYDEN. LA-/. 289 At each assize and term we try Then they who brothers' better claim disown A thousand rascals of as deep a dye. Defraud their clients, and, to lucre sold, DRYDEN. Sit brooding on unprofitable gold. DRYDEN. There then we met; both tried, and both were DRDN cast, Some laws ordain, and some attend the choice And this irrevocable sentence past. Of holy senates, and elect by voice. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A war ensues; the Cretans own their cause, Was ever criminal forbid to plead? Stiff to defend their hospitable laws. Curb your ill-mannerd zeal. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. O queen! indulged by favour of the gods What! since the proetor did my fetters loose, To build a town, with statutes to restrain And left me freely at my own dispose, The wild inhabitants beneath thy reign. May I not live without control and awe, DRYDEN.. Excepting still the letter of the law? You promised once a progeny divine DRYDEN. Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, 3, b, J~~My flocks, my fields, my woods, my pastures In after-times should hold the world in awe, take And to the land and ocean give the law. With settlement as good as law can make. DRYDEN. DRYDN. DRYDEN. These, if the laws did that exchange afford, Would save their lapdog sooner than their lord. Our penal laws no sons of yours admit; DRYDEN. Our test excludes your tribe from benefit. DRYDEN. To peaceful Rome new laws ordain; Call'd from his mean abode a sceptre to sustain. The jealous sects that dare not trust their cause DRYDEN. So far from their own will as to the laws, You for their umpire and their synod take. Salius then, exclaiming aloud, DRYDEN. Urges his cause may in the court be heard, A spirit fit to start an empire, And pleads the prize is wrongfully conferr'd. And look the wor-ld to law-. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. My cause is call'd, and that long-look'd-for day Shall freeborn men, in humble awe, Submit to servile shame, Is still incumber'd with some new delay. Who from consent and custom draw DRYDEN. The s.ame right to be ruled by law, Ask not what pains, nor further seek to know MWhich Ikings pretend to reign? Their process, or the forms of law below. DRYDEN. DR DRYDEN. The bees have common cities of their own, And common sort; beneath one law thev live, There's joy when to wild will you laws preAnd with one common stock their traffic drive. s DRYDEN. When you bid fortune carry back her bribe. DRYDEN. No courts created yet, nor cause was heard;'Tis the procession of a funeral vow, But all was safe, for conscience was their guard. W.Which cruel laws to Indian wives allow. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Some at the bar with subtilty defend The cause of an unlearned noble friend.'Tis law, though custom now diverts the course: DRYDEN. As nature's institute is yet in force, Uncancell'd, though disused. DRYDEN. Curse on th' unpard'ning prince, whom tears can draw At length the muses stand restored again, To no remorse; who rules by lion's law. While you dispense the laws and guide the state. DRYDEN. DRYDEN.'9 290;LA W Pygmalion then the Tyrian sceptre sway'd, Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, One who contemn'd divine and human laws; Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven. Then strife ensued. SIR WM. JONES. DRYDEN. What can innocence hope for, Add long prescription of establish'd laws, When such as sit her judges are corrupted? And pique of honour to maintain a cause, MASSINGER: Maid of oznour. And shame of change. DRYDEN. Whoso loves law dies either mad or poor. MIDDLETON: PlieanziX. The man who laugh'd but once-to see an ass Mumbling to make the gross-grain'd thistles pass, What rests but that the mortal sentence pass? Might laugh again-to see a jury chawMILTON. The prickles of unpalatable law. The third best absent is condemn'd, DRYDEN. Convict by flight, and rebel to all law; Our law, that did a boundless ocean seem, Conviction to the serpent none belongs. Was coasted all and fathom'd all by him. MILTON. DRYDEN: on -feneage Finch. DRYDEN: on Heneage Fin. This also shall they gain by their delay Since laws were made for ev'ry degree, In the wide wilderness: there they shall found To curb vice in others, as well as in me. Their government, and their great senate choose, GAY: Beggar's Opera. Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws orLaws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law. daind. MILTN. GOLDSMITH: l)'avelier. This yet I apprehend not, why to those.Such precedents are numberless; we draw Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth, Our right from custom:- custom is a law. So many and so various laws are given; GRANVILLE. So many laws argue so many sins! The princes differ and divide; MILTON. Some follow law, and some with beauty sie.de God, from Sinai descending, will himself, GRANVILLE. Iln thunder, lightning, and loud trumpet's sound, For our reward, Ordain them laws; part such as appertain All our debts are paid; dangers of law, To civil justice; part, religious rites Actions, decrees, judgments against us quitted. Of sacrifice. BEN JONSON. MILTON. The good need fear no law; Nor can this be It is his safety, and the bad man's awe. But by fulfilling that which thou dost want, BEN JONSON. Obedience to the law. MILTON. O'ir the:saddle turn'd round, or the girths brake; Fot-low on the ground, woe for his sake, So violence Thie law is found. Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, BEN JONSON. Through all the plain, and refuge none was A single jail, in Alfred's golden reign, found. MILTON. Could half the nation's criminals contain; Fair justice then, without constraint adored, Laws which none shall find Held high the steady scale, but sheathed the Left them enroll'd; or what the spirit within sword; Shall on the heart engrave. MILTON. No spies were paid, no special juries known; Blest age! but ah! how different from our own! Laws can discover sin, but not remove. DR. JOHNSON: London. MILTON. And sovereign law,-that state's collected will,- But you invert the cov'nants of her trust, O'er thrones and globes elate, And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill. With that which you received on other terms. SIR WM. JONES. MILTON. -LAW.' 29I If aught against my life No statute in his favour says Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, How free or frugal I shall pass my days; Against the law of nature, law of nations. I who at some times spend, at others spare; MILTON. Divided between carelessness and care. Justice is lame, as well as blind, amongst us: The laws, corrupted to their ends that make Speech submissively withdraws them, From rights of subjects, and the poor man's Serve but for instruments of some new tyranny, cause; That every day starts up t' enslave us deeper. Then pompous silence reigns, and stills the OTWAY: Venice PreserJved. noisy laws. Once (says an author,-where, I need not say) POPE. Two trav'llers found an oyster in their way: All look up, with reverential awe, Both fierce, both hungry, the dispute grew strong, At crimes that'scape or triumph o'er the law. While, scale in hand, Dame Justice pass'd along. POPE. Before her each with clamour plead the laws, Explain'd the matter, and would win the cause. Ye know the spheres and various tasks assign'd Dame Justice, weighing long the doubtful right, By laws eternal to th' ethereal kind. Takes, opens, swallows it before their sight. The cause of strife removed so rarely well, Thus long-succeeding cities justly reign'l, There, take (says Justice), take ye each a shell; License repress'd, and useful laws ordain'd; We thrive at Westminster on fools like you: Learning and Rome alike in empire grew.'Twas a fat oyster: live in peace: adieu! POPE. POPE: from Boileazz. Indentures, cov'nants, articles they draw, But we, brave Britons, foreign laws despised, And kept unconuer'd, and uncivilized; a Large as the fields themselves; and larger far Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold, Than civil codes with all their glosses are. We still defied the Romans, as of old. POPE. With equal justice and historic care, Yes, the last pen for freedom let me draw, Their laws,'their toils, their arms, with his When truth stands trembling on the edge of law. compare. POPE. PRIOR. Your plea is good; but still I say, Beware; Illustrious virtues, who by turns have rose, Laws are ex1lain'd by men: so have a care. With happy laws her empire to sustain, POPE. And with full pow'r assert her ambient main. In such a cause the plaintiff will be hiss'd, PRIOR. My lords the judges laugh, and you're dismiss'd. Justice submitted to what Abra pleased: POPE. Her will alone could settle or revoke, Certain laws, by suff'rers thought unjust, And law was fix'd by what she latest spoke. Denied all posts of profit or of trust. PRIOR. POPE. The goddess, studious of her Grecians', fate, The laws of God, as well as of the land, Tbher a ofr d, ayshel asofthd ld, Sought them in laws and letters to excel, Abhor a perpetuity should stand; In acting justly and in writing well. Estates have wings, and hang in fortune's power. PRIOR. POPE. He died obedient to severest law: Your country, chief in arms, abroad defend; Forbid to tread the promised land he saw. At home, with morals, arts, and laws amend. PRIOR. POPE. What's property? you see it alter, Witness for me, ye awful gods! Or, in a mortgage, prove a lawyer's share, I took not arms till urged by self-defence, Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir. The eldest law of nature. POPE. ROWE. 292 LA4. The great King of kings Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law Hath in the table of his law commanded Is death to any he that utters them. That thou shalt do no murder; will you then SHAKSPEARE. Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? When every case in law is right. SHASPEARE.SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. He hath resisted law, He hath resisted law, According to our law, And therefore law shall scorn him further trial.. Depose him in the justice of his cause. Than the severity of public power. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEAR.E. If little faults, proceeding on distemper, This bond is forfeit; A lwlbThis bton isw forfe ait Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our And lawfully by this the Jew may claim A pound of flesh. pond of flesh. SHAKSPEARE. When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and di7estecd, If you deny me, fie upon your law! Appear before us? SHAKSPEARE. There is no force in the decrees of Venice: Proceed by process, I stand for judgment: answer, shall I have it? Proceed y process, SHA5KSPEARE. Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out. SHAKSPEARE. If you deny it, let the danger light Take heed, for he holds vengeance in his hand, Upon your charter, and your city's freedom. SHAI(SPEARE. To hurl upon their heads that break his law. SHAKSPEARE. Till thou canst rail the seals from off my bond, well we may not pass upon his life Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud. Without the form of justice, yet our pow'r Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men There is no power in Venice May blame, but not control. SHAKSPEARE. Can alter a decree established:'Twill be recorded for a precedent; Pluck down my officers, break my decrees; And many an error, by the same example, For now a time is come to mock at form. Will rush into the state: it cannot be. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Be you contented I charge you by the lamw, To have a son set your decrees at naught, Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, To pluck down justice from your awful bench 7 SHAKSPEARE. Proceed to judgment. SHAKSPEARE. AKPEARE. By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and I beseech you, must Wrest once the law to your authority: Endure our law. To do a great right, do a little wrong. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Now that God and friends The law hath yet another hold on you. Have turn'd my captive state to liberty, SHARSPEARE. At our enlargement what are thy due fees? SHAKSPEARE. It is enacted in the laws of Venice, If it be proved against an alien For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself He seeks the life of any citizen, To fit your fancies to your father's will; The party'gainst the which he doth contrive Or else the law of Athens yields you up Shall seize on half his goods. To death, or to a vow of single life. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: I have been a truant to the law The world affords no law to make thee rich; I never yet could frame my will to it, Then be not poor, but break it and take this. And therefore frame the law unto my will. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. LAW b. 293 Before I be convict by course of law, We must not make a scarecrow of the law, To threaten me with death is most unlawful. Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, SHAKSPEARE. And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror. The law hath judged thee, Eleanor: SHAKSPEARE. I cannot justify whom law condemns. SHAKSPEARE. Those many had not dared to do that evil If the first mlan that did th' edict infringe The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's con- Had answer'd for his deed. tumely, SHAKSPEARE. The pang of despised love, the law's delay. ~SHAKSPEARE. ~The duke's unjust SHAKSPEARE. Thus to retort your manifest appeal, The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, And put your trial in the villain's mouth May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Whom here you come to accuse. Guiltier than him they try. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy How innocent I was, Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, This noble jury and foul cause can witness. Hath stept into the law, which is past depth SHAKSPEARE. To those that without heed do plunge into it. SHAKSPEARE. I will not tarry; -o, nor ever more Upon,this business m appearance make I am a subject, In any of their courts. And challenge law; attorneys are denied me; SHAKSPEARE. And therefore personally I lay my claim To mine inheritance. Of my land, SIHAKSPEARE. Loyal and natural boy! I'll work the means To make thee capable. He now, forsooth, takes on him to reform SHAKSPEARE. Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees, That lay too heavy on the commonwealth. His offence is so, as it appears SI-IAKSPEARE. Accountant to the law upon that pain. SHAKSPEARE. Sthibbornly he did repugn the truth, About a certain question in the law. There is a law in each well-order'd nation SHAe SPEARE. To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory. When he had no power, SHAKSPEARE. He was your enemy; still spake against Your liberties and charters. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, SHAISPEARE. And you but waste your words. SHAKSPEARFu. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. SHAKSPEARE. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws If I shall be condemn'd (The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds), Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep, t what your jealousies await, I tell you, But what your jealousies await, I tell you, Even like an overgrown lion in a cave,'Tis rigour, and not law. That goes not out to prey. SHAKSPEARE. ~~~~~SHAHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I'll undertake to bring him So our decrees, Where he shall answer by a lawful form, Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; In peace, to his utmost peril. And liberty plucks justice by the nose. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The brain may devise laws Pity is the virtue of the law, For the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er And none but tyrants use it cruelly. A cold decree. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 294 LA W.-LA WYERS. Blood hath been shed Law-giving heroes, famed for taming brutes, Ere human statute purged the general weal. And raising cities with their charming lutes. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. Your scope is as mine own, IHaving infringed the law, I waive my right So to enforce or qualify the laws As king, and thus submit myself to fight. As to your soul seems good. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. To do thee honour I will shed their blood, After this cold consid'rance sentence me. Which the just laws, if I were faultless, should. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. To her laws When the law shows her teeth, but dares not We do deliver you. SHAKSPEARE., And South-Sea treasures are not brought to light. In the corrupted currents of this world, YOUNG. Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft the wicked prize itself Instructive satire; true to virtue's cause! nuys out the law. prize itself Thou shining supplement of public laws! SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG. The bloody book of law You shall yourself read in the bitter letter, LAWYERS. After your own sense; yea, though our proper Cato's voice was ne'er employ'd son To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes. Stood in your action. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. With books and money placed for show,'Tis not ever Like nest-eggs, to make, clients lay, The justice and the truth o' th' question carries And for his false opinion pay. The due o' the verdict with it. At what ease BUTLER: Nudibras. Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To swear against you! such things have been cdone. So sweet as lawyer's in his bar-gown, SHAKSPEARE. Until with subtle cobweb cheats I do not love They're catch'd in knotted law, like nets; Much ceremony; suits in love should not, In which, when once they are imbrangled, Like suits in law, be rock'd from term to term. The nore they stir, the more they're tangled. BUTLER: -Hztdib-as. SHIRLEY. I wait not at the lawyer's gates, Had women been the makers of our laws, I wait not at the lawyers gates, Nor shouldelr-climblllers dclown the stairs. The men should slave at cards fiom morn to CAR EW. night. SWIFT. Now like a lawyer, when he land would get, If the heavenly folk should know Or sell fee-simples in his master's name. These pleadings in the court below. CHAUCER. SWIFT. Now he exacts of all, wastes in delight,'Tis not the coarser tie of human law Riots in pleasure, and neglects the law. That binds their peace. DANIEL. THOMSON. Men such as choose Just men, by whom impartial laws were given; Law practice for mere gain. And saints, who taught and led the way to DONNE. heaven. TICKheaven. on Ike Deal of Addison. Old clients, wearied out with fruitless care, TICKELL: On th'e Denath of Addzson. Dismiss their hopes of eating, and despair; No man e'er felt the halter draw Though much against the grain, forced to retire, With good opinion of the law. Buy roots for supper, and provide a fire. TRUMBULL: /McFinga. DRYDEN. LA WYERS. 295 Learn what thou ow'st thy country and thy Fat fees from the defended Umbrian draws, friend, And only gains the wealthy client's cause. What's requisite to spare, and what to spend: POPE. Learn this; and after, envy not the store ernthesgrasd advter, tnhanot gridsthre p Graced as thou art, with all the power of words, Of the greased advocate that grinds the poor. DRYDEN. So known, so honour'd, at the house of lords: Conspicuous scene! another yet is nigh With arts like these rich Matho, when he speaks, (More silent far), where kings and poets lie: Attracts all fees, and little lawyers breaks. Where Murray (long enough his country's DRYDEN. pride) Shall be no more than Tully or than Hyde! Fabius might joy in Scipio, when he saw Shall be o more tha Tully or tha Hyde! A beardless consul made against the law; And join his suffrage to the votes of Rome. Him you will find in letters and in laws DRYDEN. Not unexpert. PRIOR. The best he was, And faithfullest expounder of the laws. Your dainty speakers have the curse DRYDEN. To plead bad causes down to worse. PRIOR. The purple garments raise the lawyer's fees; High pomp and state are useful properties. Some things admit of mediocrity: DRYDEN. A counsellor, or pleader at the bar, May want Messala's pow'rful eloquence, At bar albusive, on the bench unable, Or be less read than deep Casselius; Knave on the woolsack, fop at council-table. Yet this indiffrent lawyer is esteem'd. DRYDEN. ROSCOMMON. The charge is prepared, the lawyers are met, The busy, subtile serpents of the law The judges all ranged; a terrible show. The judges all ranged; a terrible show! Did first my mind from true obedience draw GAY: Begsyefffais Ope;-a. 3GAY: Be's Opera. While I did limits to the king prescribe, Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, And took for oracle that canting tribe. And here the' fell attorney prowls for prey. ROSCOMMON. DR. S. JOHNSON: London. Why meet we thus, like wrangling advocates, Men of your large profession that could speak To urge the justice of our cause with words? To every cause, and things mere contraries, ROWE. Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law. BEN JONSON. Do as adversaries do in law; Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. Property, you see it alter; SHAKSPEARE. Or, in a mortgage, prove a lawyer's share, As I was then Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir, Or, in pure equity (the case not clear),, Or, in. pureqit(teas r, Not changing heart with habit, I am still The chancery takes your rents for twenty year. o POPE. Attornied at your service. SHAKSPEARE. Is there a variance? enter but his door, Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more; Windy attorneys to their client'woes, Despairing quacks with curses left the place, And vile attorneys, now a useless race. Airy succeeders to intestate joys; POPE: A Essays. Poor breathing orators of miseries. POPE: 01o)al EFssays. SHAKSPEARE. Alas! the small discredit of a bribe Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the scribe: Malmutius POPE. Ordain'd our laws, whose use the sword of Cesar VWhat says my counsel, learned in the law? Hath too much mangled. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 296 LA WYERS.-IEA RNING. I will attend my husband; it is my office; When did his pen on learning fix a brand, And will have no attorney but myself; Or rail at arts he did not understand? And therefore let me have him home. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Fine fruits of learning! old ambitious fool, He pleaded still not guilty; Durst thou apply that adage of the school: The king's attorney, on the contrary, As if'tis nothingr worth, that lies conceal'd; Urged on examinations, proofs, confessions, And science is not science, till reveal'd? Of divers witnesses. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Without a genius, learning soars in vain, The nymphs with scorn beheld their foes, And without learning, genius sinks again: When the defendant's counsel rose; Their force united crowns the sprightly reign. And, what no lawyer ever lack'd, ELPHINSTON. With impudence own'd all the fact. SWIFT. Learning by study must be won:'Twas ne'er entail'd from sire to son. The judge GAY: Fables. Directed them to mind their brief, Directed them to mind their brief, While words of learned length and thund'ring Nor spend their time to show their reading: sound She'd have a summary proceeding. SWIFT. Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, The brief with weighty crimes was charged, That one small head should carry all he knew. On which the pleader much enlarged. GOLDSMITH: Deser ted Village. SWIFT. The helm may rust, the laurel bough may fade, He knows in law nor.text nor margint. Oblivion's grasp may blunt the victor's blade: SWIFT. But that bright holy wreath which learning gives, Orphans around his bed the lawyer sees, Untorn by hate, unharm'd by envy lives. And takes the plaintiff's and defendant's fees; GRAHAME. His fellow pick-purse, watching for a job, Learning was posed, philosophy was set, Fancies his finger's in the cully's fob. Sophisters taken in a fisher's net. SWIFT. GEORGE HERBERT. Is't not enough the blockhead scarce can read, Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, But must he wisely look, and gravely plead? And pause awhile fiom letters to be wise; YOUNG. There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail: LEARNING. See nations slowly wise and meanly just, To buried merit raise the tardy bust. But grant our hero's hopes long toil DR. JOHNSON: Vanity of Human rfIslzes. And comprehensive genius crown, And comprehensive genius crown, A little learning is a dangerous thing! Each science and each art his spoil, Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: Yet what reward, or what renown? There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And.drinking largely sobers us again. We say that learning's endless, and blame fate Fired at first sight with what the muse imparts, For not allowing life.a longer date: In fearless youth we tempt the height of arts, He did the utmost bounds of knowledge find; While from the bounded level of our mind He found them not so large as was his mind. Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind; COWLEY. But more advanced, behold, with strange surHe had so many languages in store prise, That only fame shall speak of him in more. New distant scenes of endless science rise. COWLEY. POPE. Solon the wise his progress never ceased, From the same foes, at last, both felt their doom; But still his learning with his days increased. And the same age saw learning fall, and Rome. SIR J. DENHAM. POPE. EA RIVIVG. -.LE TTERS. 297 The vulgar thus by imitation err, Learning is but an adjunct to ourself; As oft the learn'd by being singular; And where we are, our learning likewise is. So much they scorn the crowd, that if the throng SHAKSPEARE. By chance go right, they purposely go wrong. He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Love seldom haunts the breast where learning Why did my parents send me to the schools, lies, That I with knowledge might enrich my And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise. mind, POPE: Wilfe of Bat. Since the desire to learn first made men fools, And did corrupt the root of all mankind? Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, SPENSER. Content with science in the vale of peace. POPE. Learning's little household did embark, With her world's fruitful system, in her sacred Like buoys that never sink into the flood, ark.SWIFT. On learning's surface we but lie and nod. POPE. His learning, though a poet said it, Before a play would lose no credit. Though learn'd, well bred; and though well SWIFT. br~ed, sincere; Aspiring, factious, fierce, and loud, Modestly bold, and humanly severe. Vith grace and learning unendoxv'd. POPE. SWIFT. How empty learning, and how vain is art, HIe roll'd his eyes, that witness'dcl huge dismay, ow empty learning, and how vain is art, z' 1 But as it mends the life and guides the heart! Where yet, unpawn'd, much learned lumber lay. But as it mends the life, and guides the heart POPE. YOUNG: Last Day. Voracious learning, often overfed, But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced, Digests not into sense her motley meal; Is by ill colouring but, the more disgraced; This bookcase, with dark booty almost burst, So by false learning is good sense defaced: This forager on others' wisdom, leaves Some are bewildered in the maze of schools, Her native farm, her reason, quite untill'd. And some made coxcombs nature meant but YOUNG: _Ahi 3 ThoziffLs. fools. POPE. Much learning shows how little mortals know; AMuch wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy. Ask of the learn'd the way? The learn'd are YOUNG: Nz,5t T/zozclhts. blind; This bids to serve, and that to shun, mankind; you are learnd; in volumes deep you sit; Some place the bliss in action, some in ease; In wisdom shallow: pompous ignorance! These call it pleasure, and contentment these. YOUNG: ViSgzt Thozu0his. POPE. To tongue or pudding thou hast no pretence;. Learning thy talent is, but mine is sense. PRIOR. Mark if to get them she o'erskip the rest, Mark if she read them twice, or kiss the name. And by succession of unlearned times, DONNE. As bards began, so monks rung on the chimes. The welcome news is in the letter found; RoscoMMoN. The carrier's not commission'd to expound; Let him with pedants hunt for praise in books, It speaks itself. DRYDEN: Rei jaio Laici. Pore out his life amongst the lazy gownmen, Grow old and vainly proud in fancied knowl- Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, edge. That well-known name awakens all my woes. RowE. POPE. 298 LE TTERS.-LIBER TY. Heaven first taught letters for' some wretch's Oh, could I worship aught beneath the slkies, aid, That earth hath seen or fancy can devise, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid; Thine altar, sacred liberty! should stand, They live, they speak, they breathe what love Built by no mercenary vulgar hand, inspires, With fragrant turf, and flowers as wild and fair Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires; As ever dress'd a bank, or scented summer air. The virgin's wish without her fears impart, COWPER: Ch/zarity. Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart, Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the pole! lungs Ad POPE: h lepoise. Receive our air, that moment they are free: They touch our country, and their shackles fall. Let me hear from thee by letters That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud Of thy success in love; and what news else And jealous of the blessing. Betideth here in absence of thy friend. COWPER: Task. SHAKSPEARE. The love of liberty with life is given, For often have you writ to her; and she, in And life itself th' inferior gift of heaven. modesty, DRYDEN. Or else for want of idle time, could not again What should I do? while here I wasTenchain'd, reply. re9. SHAKIISPEARE. No glimpse of godlike liberty remain'd. DRYDEN. Thou canst not be so pleased at liberty, LIBERTY. As I shall be to find thou dar'st be free. DRYDEN. O liberty! thou goddess heavenly bright, Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight! He, in a loathsome dungeon doom'd to lie, Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, In bonds retain'd his birthright liberty, And smiling plenty leads thy wanton train. And shamed oppression, till it set him free. ADDISON: Italy. DRYDEN. IA wday, an hour of virtuous liberty The greatest glory of a free-born people Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. Is to transmit that freedom to their children. ADDISON. HAVARD: Rege't[tIs. When liberty is gone,, Yet sometimes nations will decline so lowv Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish. ADDISON. From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, But justice, and some fatal course annex'd, It makes the gloomy face of nature gay; Deprives them of their outward liberty, Gives beauty to the sun, and pleasure to the day. Their inward lost. ADDISON. MILTON. For freedom's battle, once begun, They bawl for freedom in their senseless moods, Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son, And still revolt when truth would set them free; Though baffled oft, is ever won. License they mean, when they cry liberty! BYRON: Giaour. MILTON. The wish-which ages have not yet subdued For orders and degrees In manll-to have no master save his mood. Jar not with liberty, but well consist. BYRON: Island. MILTON. Eternal spirit of the chainless mind! Justly thou abhorr'st Brightest in dungeons, liberty, thou art! That son, who on the quiet state of men For there thy habitation is the heart- Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue The heart, which love of thee alone can bind. Rational liberty. BYRON: Prisoner of Chillon. MILTON. LEIBERTY-LI'E. 299 I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs, My life, if thou preserv'st my life, By the known rules of ancient liberty. Thy sacrifice shall be; MILTON. And death, if death must be my doom, When will the world shake off such yokes? oh, Shall join my soul to thee. ADDISON. when Will that redeeming day shine out on men Life! we've been long together, That shall behold them rise, erect and free, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; As heav'n and nature meant mankind should be?'Tis hard to part when friends are dear; ~MOORE: Fzddge Fnaozilv. Perhaps'twill cost a sigh, a tear; Then steal away, give little warning: Our vanquish'd wills that pleasing force obey: Choose thine own time Choose thine own time; Her goodness takes our liberty away; Her goodness taes our liberty away; Say not "'Good-night;" but in some brighter And haughty Britain yields to arbitrary sway. clime PRIOR. Bid me " Good-morning."'I must have liberty, MRs. BARBAULD: Lz~fe. Withal as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; Say, would the tender creature, in despite And they that are most galled with my folly, Of heat by day, and chilling dews by night, They most must laugh. Its life maintain? SHAKSPEARE. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe: Not many lives, but only one, have weThere's nothing situate under heaven's eye Frail, fleeting manll! But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky. How sacred should that one life ever beSHAKSPEARE. That narrow span! They've chose a consul that will from them take Day after day fill'd up with blessed toil, Their liberties; make them of no more voice Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil! Than dogs, that are often beat for barking. H. BONAR. SHAKSPEARE. So to live that when the sun Might I but through my prison, once a clay, Of our existence sinks in night, Behold this maid, all corners else o' th' earth'Memorials sweet of mercies done Let liberty make use of. May shrine our names in memory's light, SHAKSPEARE. And the blest seeds we scatter'd bloom When liberty is lost, A hundred-fold in days to come. Let abject cowards live; but in the brave SIR J. BOWRING. It were a treachery to themselves,-enough Yet time, who changes all, had alter'd him To merit chains. In soul and aspect as in age: years steal THOMSON: Sop/lhonisba. Fire from the mind, as vigour from the limb: Let partial spirits still aloud complain, And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the Think themselves injured that they cannot reign; brim. And own no liberty, but where they may ByRON: C/zilde Adold. Without control upon their fellows prey. To know, to esteem, to love, —and then to part, WALLER. Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. COLERIDGE. LIFE. The game of life Then let us.fill Looks cheerful when one carries in one's heart This little interval, this pause of life, The unalienable treasure. WVith all the virtues we can crowd into it. COLERIDGE. ADDISON: Cazto. Nature to each allots his proper sphere, To make man mild and sociable to man, But that forsaken, we like comets err. To cultivate the wild licentious savage Toss'd through the void, by some rude shock With wisdom, discipline, and liberal arts, we're broke, Th' embellishments of life. And all our boasted fire is lost in smoke. ADDISON: Cato. CONGREVE. 300 LIFE. O life, thou nothing's younger brother! The same uneasiness which every thing So like, that we may take the one for t'other! Gives to our nature, life must also bring. Dream of a shadow! a reflection made SIR J. DENHAM. From the false glories of the gay reflected bow,, Lords of the world have but for life their lease, Is more a solid thing than thou! COWLEY. And that too, if the lessor please, must cease. SIR J. DENHAM. His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life I'm sure was in the right. Should some god tell me that I should be born, COWLEY: on Craszaw. And cry again, his offer I should scorn; Ashamed, when I have ended well my race, Ask, What is human life? the sage replies, To be led back to nmy first starting-place. With disappointment low'ring in his eyes: SIR J. DENHAM. A painful passage o'er a restless flood; A vain pursuit of fugitive false good; Live while you live, the epicure would say, A sense of fancied bliss and heart-felt care, And seize the pleasures of the present day; Closing at last in darkness and despair. Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries, COWPER: Hope. And give to God each moment as it flies: Lord, in my view let both united be; Whether we work or play, or sleep or wake, I live in pleasure when I live to thee. Our life doth pass, and with time's wings doth fly. DODDRIDGE: SIR J. DAVIES. EpIgram o a mis Family Arms. This work goeth fast on and prospereth: You are both fluid, changed since yesterday; Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth fly. Next day repairs but ill last day's decay: SIR J. DAVIES. Nor are, although the river keep the name, Our life so fast away doth slide Yesterday's waters and to-day's the same. As doth an hungry eagle through the wind; DONNE. Or as a ship transported with the tide, But dearest heart, and clearer image, stay! Which in their passage leaves no print behind. Alas! true joys at best are dreams enough: SIR J. DAVIES. Though you stay here, you pass too fast away; For even at first life's taper is a snuff. The youngest in the morning are not sure DONNE DONNE. That till the night their life they can secure. SIR J. DENHAM. When I consider life,'tis all a cheat, Yet, fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit; On their life no grievous burden lies, Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: W"ho are well-natured, temperate, and wise: o are w anad,, tempera and To-morrow's falser than the former day; But an inhuman and ill-temper'i mind Lies more, and while it says we shall be bless'd Not any easy part in life can find. With some new joys, cuts off what we possess'd. SIR J. DENIHAM. Strange coz'nage! none would live past years again, Look forward what's to come, and back what's past; Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; And from the dregs of life think to receive Thy life will be with praise and prudence What the first sprightly running could not give. graced; I'm tired of waiting for this chyrnic gold, What loss or gain may follow thou may'st guess: Then ilt thou be secure of the success. Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. Then wilt thou be secure of the success. SIR J. DENHAM. On what strange ground we build our hopes Oh, let me live my own, and die so too! To live and die is all I have to do. and fears: SIR. DENHAM. Man's life is all a mist, and in the dark Our fortunes meet us. Satiety from all things else doth come, Whether we drive, or whether we are driven, Then life must to itself grow wearisome. If ill,'tis ours; if good, the act of Heaven. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. ZIFE. 301 Had heav'n decreed that I should life enjoy, Could I but live till burdensome they prove, Heav'n had decreed to save unhappy Troy.'My life would be immortal as my love. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. They wish to live, This hour's the very crisis of your fate; Theerty desire to bear, Their pains and poverty desire to bear, Your good or ill, your infamy or fame, r golle your o rinfa r fes To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the And all the colour of your life, dependsair. On this important now. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Since ev'ry man who lives is born to die, Death stalks behind thee, and each flying hour And none can boast sincere felicity, Does some loose remnant of thy life devour. With equal mind what happens let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond Nothing but a blank remains, a dead void space; our care: A step of life, that promised such a race. Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend; DRYDEN. The world's an inn, and death the journey's end. To live uprightly, then, is sure the best; DRYDEN. To save ourselves, and not to damn the rest. If like a hundred years, or e'er so few, DRYDEN.'Tis repetition all, and nothing new: A fair where thousands meet, but none can First vegetive, then feels, and reasons last; stay; Rich of three souls, and lives all three to waste. An inn An inn where travellers bait, then post away. DRYDEN. FRANCIS FAWKES. Improperly we measure life by breath: Life is a jest, and all things show it; Such do not truly live who merit death. I thought so once, but now I know it. DRYDEN.GAY: My own E GAY: ~~y ozenz 0hafit/pI. Life with my Indamora I would choose; How short is life! Why will vain courtiers toil, But, losing her, the end of living lose. And crowd a vainer monarch for a smile? DRYDEN. GRANVILLE. Recall your gift, for I your pow'r confess; His conscience cheer'd him with a life well But first take back my life, a gift's that less. spent; DRYDEN. His prudence a superfluous something lent, Renew'd to life that she might daily die; Which made the poor who took, and poor who I daily doom'd to follow. gave, content. DRYDEN. WALTER HARTE. DRYDEN. Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; Fate sees thy life lodged in a brittle glass, Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows; Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom; And looks it through, but to it cannot pass. DRYDEN. Think on the sudden change of human scenes; Think on the various accidents of war; O frail estate of human things! Think on the mighty power of awful virtue; Now to our cost your emptiness we know. DRYDEN. Think on the Providence that guards the good. DR. S. JOHNSON. Hast thou no mark at which to bend thy bow? Catch, then, 0 catch the transient hour; Or, like a boy, pursuest the carrion crow Improve each moent as it flies; Improve each moment as it flies; With pellets and with stones from tree to tree, Life's a short stummer man a flower~A fruitless toil, and livest extempore? DRYDEN. He dies-alas! how soon he dies! DR. S. JOHNSON: W'inter.' An Ode. The points of honour poets may produce; The points of honour poets may produce; Enlarge my life with multitude of days!" Trappings of life,-for ornament, not use. In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays: DRYDEN. Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know If life sunk through you like a leaky sieve, That life protracted is protracted woe. Accuse yourself you lived not while you might. D{l. S. JOHNSON: DRYDEN. Vanity of znuman Wishes. 302 LJIFE. Delay is bad, doubt worse, depending worst Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong Each best day of our life escapes us first. Life much! Bent, rather, how I may be quit, Then, since we more than many, these truths Fairest and easiest, of this cumbrous charge. know, -MILTON. Though life be short, let us not make it so. Thouhliebeshorletsnot mkeO 0 pity and shame, that they who to live well BEN NSN pigrams. Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread Life is a weary interlude, Paths indirect, or in the midway faint. Which doth short joys, long woes include: MILTON. The world the stage, the prblogue tears, Who that hath ever been The acts vain hopes and varied fears; Could bear to be no more? The scene shuts up with loss of breath, Yet who would tread again the scene And leaves no epilogue but death. He trod through life before? BISHOP HENRY KING. JAMES MONTGOMERY. Tell me not, in mournful numbers,'Tis not the whole of life to live: "Life is but an empty dream!" Nor all of death to die. For the soul is dead that slumbers, JAMES MONTGOMERY. And things are not what they seem. They may rail at this life —fiom the hour I beLONGFELLOW: PsaJlZm of Life. gan it, Lives of great men all remind us I've found it a life full of kindness and bliss; We can make our lives sublime, And until they can show me some happier planet, And, departing, leave behind us More social and bright, I'll content me with Footprints on the sands of time: this. MOORE. Footprints that perhaps another, Sailin o'er lifes sl, The world had just begun to steal Sailing o'er life's solemn main, Salong a e sowek, Each hope that led me lightly on; A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother, I felt not as I used to feel, Seeing, shall take heart again. And life grew dark, and love was gone! LONGFELLOW: Pscalm of Life. MOORE. Who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Life is a waste of wearisome hours, Those thoughts'that wander through eternity, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowIn the wide womb of uncreated night, ers Devoid of sense and motion? Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns. MILTON.. MOORE. For man to tell how human life began Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? i train; MILTON. Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain; To measure life learn thou betimes, and know These, mix'd with art, and to due bounds conToward solid good what leads the nearest way. fined, MILTON. Make and maintain the balance of the mind; Taught to live The lights and shades whose Nwell-accorded strife The easiest way; nor with perplexing thoughts To inerutthwetolfGives all the strength and colour of our life. To interrupt the sweet of life. MILTON. POPE. Not love thy life, nor hate;* but what thou liv' st Like following life through creatures you dissect,'.You lose it in the moment you detect. Live well, how long or short permit to heav'n. MILTON. His leisure told him that his time was come, While life informs these limbs, the king replied, And lack of load made his life-burdensome. Well to deserve be all my cares employ'd. MILTON. POPE. LZIFE. 303 In known images of life, I guess Till by one countless sum of woes oppress'd, The labour greater as th' indulgence less. Hoary with cares, and ignorant of rest, POPE. We find the vital springs relax'd and worn; All that cheers or softens life: Compell'd our common impotence to mourn, The tender sister, daughter, friend, and wife. Thus through the round of age to childhood we POPE. return. PRIOR. My life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. Bid her exalt her melancholy wing, POPE. And raised from earth, and saved from passion, Stranger, cease thy care; sing Wise is the soul; but man is born to bear: Of human hope by cross event cestroy'd, Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales, Of useless wealth, and greatness unenjoy'd. And the good suffers, while the bad prevails. PRIOR. POPE. Be the fair level of thy actions laid Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, As temp'rance wills, and prudence may perAnd the gay conscience of a life well spent, suade, Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace. And try if life be worth the liver's care. POPE. PRIOR. Cease, man of woman born, to hope relief An age they live released From daily trouble and continued grief; From all the labour, process, clamour, woe, The hope of joy deliver to the wind, Which our sad scenes of daily action know. Suppress thy passions, and prepare thy mind. PRIOR. Free and familiar with misfortune grow, 13e usdt oroadiu-elSo vanishes our state, so pass our days; Be used to sorrow, and inured to woe;, By weakening toil and hoary age o'ercome, So life but opens now, and now decays; See thy decrease, and hasten to the tomb.,, PRIOR. TO live is scarce distinguish'd from to die. P.PRIOR. Teach the glad hours to scatter, as they fly, Soft quiet, gentle love, and endless joy. Our life is nothing but a winter's day: PRIOR. Some only break their fast, and so away; Others stay dinner, and depart full-fed; Such we find they are, as can control Tb'we siet, a u waving soul The deepest age but sups and goes to bed: The servile actions of our wav'ring soul,. s e a s He's most in debt that lingers out the day; Can fright, can alter, or can chain the will; Their ills all built on life, that fundamental ill. - PRIOR. * QUARLES. Others ill-fated are condemn'd to toil All was jollity, Their tedious life, and mourn their purpose Feasting and mirth, light wantonness and blasted laughter, With fruitless act. Piping and playing, minstrelsy and maskling, PRIOR. Till life fled from us like an idle dream, O impotent estate of human life! A show of mommery without a meaning. Where fleeting joy does lasting doubt inspire, ROWE. And most we question what we most desire. My life is but a wind, PRIOR. MWhich passeth by, and leaves no print behind. With endless pain this man pursues SANDYS. What if he gain'd he could not use; And t'other fondly hopes to see Life's but a wallking shadow; a poor player, What never was, nor e'er shall be. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, PRIOR. And then is heard no more: it is aitale O how short my interval of woe! Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Our griefs how swift, our remedies how slow! Signifying nothing. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 304 Z;IfE. 0, if this were seen, He hath a daily beauty in his life The happiest ybuth-viewing his progress That makes me ugly. through, SHAKSPEARE. What perils past, what crosses to ensue- our lives' sweetness! Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. That we the pain of death would hourly bear, SIHAKSPEARE. Rather than die at once. SHAKSPEARF. To ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, But thought's the slave of life, and life time's Their pangs of love, with other incident throes, fool; That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain And time, that takes survey of all the world, In life's uncertain voyage, I will do Must have a stop. Some kindness to them. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. This feather stirs! she lives! if it be so, This c~a~rol they began that hour, I It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That ever I have felt. How that a life was but a flower, SHAKSPEARE. In spring-time, etc. This life is best SHAKSPEARE. This life is best SHAKSPEARE. If quiet life is best; sweeter to you, He that cuts off twenty years of life, That have a sharper known. Cuts off so many years of fearing death. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. How brief the life of man O gentlemen, the time of life is short; Runs his erring pilgrimage 0, That the stretching of a span To spend that shortness basely were too long, Tat te stretching of a spa If life did ride upon a dial's point, SHAKSPEARE. Still ending at the arrival of an hour. SHAKSPEARE. The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: Te solemn temples, the great globe i Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve! The one my duty owes; but my fair name, The one my duty owes; but my fair name, And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, Despite of death, that lives upon my grave, Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. As dreams are made of, and our little life SHAKSPEARE. Is rounded with a sleep. I have set my life upon a cast, SHAKSPEARE. And I will stand the hazard of the die. SHAKSPEARE. Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, So minutes, hours, and days, weeks, months, andink he still has found May sigh to thinlk he still has found years, The warmest welcome at an inn. Past over, to the end they were created, SHENSTONE: On the Wi'ntdow of an Inn. Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. SHAKSPEARE. How sudden do our prospects vary here! And how uncertain ev'ry good we boast! There's nothing in this world can make me joy: Hope oft deceives us; and our very joys Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Hopeoft deceives us; and our very joys Sink with fruition, pall and rust away. Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. SHARKSPEARE. How wise are we in thought! how weak in practice! I send it through the rivers of your blood, Our very virtue, like our will, is-nothing. Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the SHIRLEY: Parricide. brain, And through the cranks and offices of man; The term of life is limited, The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins, Ne may a man prolong or shorten it; From me receive that natural competency The soldier may not move from watchful stead, Whereby they live. Nor leave his stand until his captain bed. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. -LIFE. -L1GHT. 305 O why do wretched men so much desire Vain man! to be so fond of breathing long, To draw their days unto the utmost date, And spinning out a thread of misery: And do not rather wish them soon expire, The longer life, the greater choice of evil; Knowing the misery of their estate, The happiest man is but a wretched thing, And thousand perils which them still await? That steals poor comfort from comparison. SPENSER. YOUNG: Busiris. Whoever doth to temperance apply Is not the mighty mind, that son of heav'n, His stedfast life, and all his actions frame, By tyrant life dethroned, imprison'd, pain'd? Trust me, shall find no greater enemy By death enlarged, ennobled, deify'd? Than stubborn perturbation to the same. Death but entombs the body; life the soul. SPENSER. YOUNG: Nigit ThSouZg/hts. Had but the heart that thrills a three years' boy That life is long which answers life's great end. A voice to speak,'twould say that life is joy! YOUNG: ig/iSt Thozohts. Note thou the youth whose impulse nought can tame, That life is action, tongue and limbs proclaim! LIGHT. The man whom well-spent years from dread release, O Light! which mak'st the light which makes Secure in knowledge, tells thee, life is peace; the day, And the gray sage who smiles beside the grave, Which sett'st the eye without, and mind Knows life is all, and death a dusty slave! within; JOHN STERLING. Lighten my spirit with one clear heav'nly ray; Which now to view itself doth first begin. i Say, Stella, feel you no content, SIR J. DAVIES. Reflecting on a life well spent? SWIFT. There fields of light and liquid ether flow, Purged from the pond'rous dregs of earth below. Even so luxurious men unheeding pass DRYDEN. An idle summer-life in fortune's shine; A season's glitter! thus they flutter on Then shook the sacred shrine, and sudden light From toy to toy, from vanity to vice, Sprang through the roof, and made the temple Till, blown away by death, oblivion comes bright. Behind, and strikes them from the book of life. DRYDEN. THOMSON: Seasons. Thou, stronger, may'st endure the flood of light; ~Where now, ye living vanities of life? And, while in shades I cheer my fainting sight, Ye ever-tempting, ever-cheating train, Encounter the descending excellence. Where are ye now, and what is your amount? DRYDEN. Vexation, disappointment, and remorse. Hail, holy light! offspring of heav'n, first-born! THOMSON: Seasons. MILTON. Circles are praised, not that abound The sacred influence of light appears. In largeness, but th' exactly round: MILTON. So life we praise that does excel Light from her native east Not in much time, but acting well. To journey through the airy gloom began, WALLER. Sphered in a radiant cloud; for yet the sun Not numerous are our joys when life is new, Was not. And yearly some are falling of the few. MILTON. YOUNG. Earth receives, The days of life are sisters; all alike; As tribute, such a sumless journey brought None just the same; which serve to fool us on, Of icorporeal speed, her warmth and light; Throuh blasted hopes, with change of fallacy; Speed to describe whose swiftness number fails. Through blasted hopes, with change of fallacy;MILTON. While joy is, like to-morrow, still to come: Nor ends the fruitless chase but in the grave. Light dies before her uncreating word. YOUNG: B;rothers. POPE. 20 306 IGHT. — L 0 GIC. —L 0 VE. As where the Almighty's lightning brand does Why will you fight against so sweet a passion, light, And steel your heart to such a world of charms? It dims the dazed eyes, and daunts the senses ADDISON. quite. quite.SER. Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love. Prime cheerer, light! ADDISON. Of all material beings first and best! Efflux divine. With what a graceful tenderness he loves! THOMSON. And breathes the softest, the sincerest vows! ADDISON. Light! Nature's resplendent robe; Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt Would one think'twere possible for love In gloom. To make such ravage in a noble soul? THOMSON. ADDISON. Oh, he was all made up of love and charms; LOGIC. Whatever maid could wish, or man admire. ADDISON. He was in logic a great critic, He ysinlo i gea rtic, Why wouldst thou urge me to confess a flame Profoundly skill'd in analytic; I long have stifled, and would fain conceal? He could distinguish and divide ADDISON. A hair'twixt south and southwest side. BUTLER: Hudiibras. When love's well timed,'tis not a fault to love; The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise, We system-makers can sustain Sink in the soft captivity together. The thesis which you grant was plain; ADDISON. And with remarks and comments tease ye, In case the thing before was easy. Thou know'st it is a blind and foolish passion, PRIOR. Pleased and disgusted with it knows not what. Can syllogisms set things right? ADDISON. No: majors soon with minors fight: My heart had still some foolish fondness for Or, both in friendly concert join'd,thee; The consequence limps false behind. PRIOR. But hence!'tis gohe; I give it to the winds. ADDISON. Talk logic with acquaintance, You strive in vain And practise rhetoric in your common talk. SHAKSPEARE. To hide your thoughts from him, who knew too well She studied well the point, and found The inward glowings of a heart in love. Her foe's conclusions were not sound; ADDISON. From premises erroneous brought, And therefore the deductions nought. For as his own bright image he survey'd, SWIFT. He fell in love with the fantastic shade. ADDISON. LOVE. If I disclose my passion, Mysterious Love! uncertain treasure, Our friendship's at an end; if I conceal it, Hast thou more of pain or pleasure? The world will call me false. O ADDISON. Endless torments dwell about thee, Yet who would live and live without thee? Thy words shoot through my heart, ADDISON. Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love. ADDISON. Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost In high ambition, or a thirst of greatness: To quell the tyrant love, and guard thy heart'Tis second life; it grows into the soul, On this weak side, where most our nature fails, Wainms ev'ry vein, and beats in ev'ry pulse. Would be a conquest worthy Cato's'son. ADDISON. ADI)ISON. L OVE. 307 What wouldst thou havenme do? consider Uwell'Had we never loved so kindly, The train of ills our love would draw behind it. Had we never loved so blindly, ADDISON. Never met, or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. The nymph, when nothing could Narcissus move, BURNS. Still dash'd with blushes for her slighted love. ADDISON. If nothing can oppugn his love, And virtue invious ways can prove, Passion unpitied and successless love What may not he confide to do, Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate That brings both love and virtue too? My other griefs. ADDISON. BUTLER: HRtdibras. ADDISON. Alas! Sempronius, wouldst thou talk of love Love is a fire which burns and sparkles To Marcia, whilst her father's life's in danger? In men as nat'rally as in charcoals, Thou might'st as well court the pale trembling Which sooty chymists stop in holes, vestal When out of wood they extract coals. While she beholds the holy flame expiring. BUTLER: zaHdifbras. ADDISON. Oh, Love! what is there in this world of ours She burns, she raves, she dies,'tis true; Which makes it fatal to be loved? A-, But burns, and raves, and dies, for you. ADDISON. why With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy Adieu for him bowers, The dull engagements of the bustling world! And made thy best interpreter a sigh? Adieu the sick impertinence of praise! BYRON. And hope, and action! for with her alone, By streams and shades, to steal these sighing Love bears within itself the very germ bours,,~ ~Of change, and how should this be otherhours, Is all he asks, and all that fate can give. FlDE ~asires of.tke Imagiznatio. That violent things more quickly find a term, Is shown through nature's whole analogies. Love is a passion whose effects are various: BYRON. It ever brings some change upon the soul, Some virtue, or some vice, till then unknown, Yet, it is love-if thoughts of tenderness, Degrades the hero, and makes cowards valiant. Tried in temptation, strengthen'd by distress, BROOKE: Gustavus Vase. Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime, And yet -oh! more than all! - untired by Learn to win a lady's faith time.; Nobly as the thing is high; BYRoN. Bravely, as for life and death, W~ith a loyal gravity. -Man's love is of man's life a thing apart; Lead her from the festive boards,'Tis woman's whole existence: man may Point her to the starry skies, range Guallrd her by your truthful wordls, The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the Pure from courtship's flatteries. mart; MRS. E. B. BROWNING. Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, She that would raise a noble love must find An few there are who these cannot And few there are whom these cannot Ways to beget a passion for her mind; She must be that which she to the world would BYRON. seem, For all true love is grounded on esteem: WTho loves, raves-'tis youth's phrenzy; but Plainness and truth gain more a generous heart the cure Than all the crooked subtleties of art. Is bitterer still. DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. BYRON: C/si/dae Haorz;'t. 308 LOVE. Few-none-find what they love, or could have Life without love's a load, and time stands still; loved, What we refuse to him, to death we give; Though accident, blind contact, and the strong And then, then only, when we love, we live. Necessity of loving, have removed CONGREVE. Antipathies. Antipathies.N: CGildead If there's delight in love,'tis when I see That heart which others bleed for, bleed for me. Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's heart, CONGREVE: Way of the World. Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs: You who men's fortunes in their faces read Do proper homage to thy idol's eyes, nDo propero huomage to thy idol's eyes, To find out mine, look not, alas, on me: But not too humbly, or she will desptho ise: But mark her face, and all the features heed; Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise. For only there is writ my destiny. For only there is writ my destiny. BYRON: Chiide Harola. COL COWLEY. Why did she love him? Curious fool, be still: Love's of a strangely open simple kind, Is human love the growth of human will? And think none sees it,'cause itself is blind. BYRON: Lara. COWLEY. Then crown my joys, or cure my pain; Impossibilities! oh, no; there's none, Give me more love, or more disdain; Could I bring thy heart captive home. The torrid or the frozen zone COWLEY. Bring equal ease unto my pain; I could not love, I'm sure, The temperate affords me none: One who in love were wise. Either extreme, of love or hate, COWLEY. Is sweeter than a calm estate. If her chill heart I cannot move, CAREW. Why, I'll enjoy the very love. COWLEY. No tears, Celia, now shall win My resolved heart to return; Hence love himself, that tyrant of my days. I have search'd thy soul within, COWLEY. And find nought but pride and scorn. Still new favourites she chose, CAREW. Till up in arms my passion rose, And cast away her yoke. Love no more is made COWLEY. By the fireside, but in the cooler shade. A mighty pain to love it is, CAREW. And'tis a pain that pain to miss; Love's soft sympathy imparts But of all pains the greatest pain That tender transport of delight It is to love and love in vain. That beats in undivided hearts. COWLEY: A4nacreon. CARTWRIGHT. Thou know'st-a face in whose each look Beauty lays ope love's fortune-book; Thou hast no faults, or I no faults can spy; eauty lays pe lve's frtune-bk; Thou art all beauty, or all blindness I. On whose fair revolutions wait C. CODRINGTON. The obsequious motions of love's fate. CRASHAW. In many ways does the full heart reveal Though Heaven's inauspicious eye The presence of the love it would conceal. Lay black on love's nativity, COLERIDGE. Her eye a strong appeal can give: And to be wroth with one we love, Beauty smiles, and love shall live. Doth work like madness in the brain. CRASHAW. COLERIDGE: Christabe[. She sees, she cries, but nowhere spies him: Love is lost, and thus she cries him. All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Love is lost, and thus she cries him. eRASHAW. Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, Love must free-hearted be, and voluntary; And feed his sacred flame. And not enchanted, or by fate constrain'd. COLERIDC:: Ctenevieve. SIR J. DAVRIES. LOVE. 309 Love, though most sure, A weather-beaten lover, but once known, Yet always to itself seems insecure. Is sport for every girl to practise on. SIR J. DENHAM. DONNE. Nor is my flame In parchment then, large as the fields, he draws So earthy as to need the dull material force Assurances, big as gloss'd civil laws. Of eyes, or lips, or cheeks. DONNE. SIR J. DENHAM. Must business thee from hence remove? Oh! that's the worst disease of love. These outward beauties are but the props and DoNNE. scaffolds On which we build our love, which, now made Dull sublunary lovers! love, perfect, Whose soul is sense, cannot admit Stands without those supports. Of absence,'cause it doth remove SIR J. DENHAM. The thing which elemented it. DONNE He faintly now declines the fatal strife; So much his love was dearer than his life! Love never fails to master what he finds, SIR J. DENHAM. But works a different way in different minds; The fool enlightens, and the wise he blinds. Fortunes, honour, friends, DRYDEN. Are mere diversions from love's proper object, Which only is itself. SIR J. DENHAM. Awakes the sleepy vigour of the soul, And, brushing o'er, adds vigour to the pool. All that I ask is but a short reprieve, DRYDEN. Till I forget to love, and learn to grieve. SIR J. DENHAM. My heart is yours; but, oh! you left it here, Abandon'd to those tyrants hope and fear; Why love among the virtues is not known, ontin, If they forced from me one kind look or word, It is, that love contracts them all in one. Could you not that, nor that small part, afford? DONNE.DRYEN. DRYDEN. I wonder much wvhat thou and I They know how fickle common lovers are: Did till we loved? WVere we not wean'd till They know how fickle common lovers are: Did then, loved? Were we not wean'd till Then oaths and vows are cautiously believed; ut s.cknd on childishpleasuressillilyFor few there are but have been once deceived. But suck'd on childish pleasures sillily? Or slumber'd we in the seven sleepers' den? DRYDEN DONNE. Fly the pursuit of my disastrous love; From my unhappy neighbourhood remove. No more can impure man retain and move DRYDEN. In that pure region of a worthy love, Than earthly substance can unforced aspire Me you have often counselld to remove And leave his nature to converse with fire. My vain pursuit of unregarded love. DONNE. DRYDEN. Disuse me from the queasy pain What poems think you soft, and to be read Of being beloved and loving. With languishing regards, and bending head? DONNE. DRYDEN. For, nor iln nothing, nor in things Arise, ye subtler spirits, that can spy Extreme and scattering bright, can love inhere. When love is center'd in a female's eye; DONNE. You that can read it in the midst of doubt, Poor heretics in love these, And in the midst of frowns can find it out. Which think to'stablish dangerous constancy; DRYDEN. But I have told them, since you will be true, The fate of love is such You shall be true to them who're false to you. That still it sees too little or too much. DONNE. DRYDEN. 31o 0O VE. Yet, as in duty bound, they serve him on; Love once given from her, and placed in you, Nor ease, nor wealth, nor life itself regard: Would leave no ground I ever would be true. For'tis their maxim, Love is love's reward. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Since love obliges not, I from this hour Hitherto she kept her love conceal'd, Assume the right of man's despotic power. And with those graces ev'ry day beheld DRYDEN. The graceful youth. TtDRYDEN. But love had clipp'd his wings and cut him short, The proverb holds, that to be wise and love Confined within the purlieus of the court. Is hardly granted to the gods above. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Love made his doubt his broad barbarian sound: Love him by parts in all your num'rous race,, By love, his want of words and wit he found. And from those parts form one collected grace;DRYiEN. DRYDEN. Then, when you have refined to that degree, Imagine all in one, and think that one is he. Was it his youth, his valour, or success? DRYDEN. These might perhaps be found in other men:'Twas that respect, that awful homage paid me, Had he lived to see her happy change, That fearful love which trembled in his eyes He would have cancell'd that harsh interdict, And with a silent earthquake shook his soul. And join'd our hands himself. DRYDEN DRYDEN. Love did his reason blind, You pine, you languish, love to be alone, And love's the noblest frailty of the mind. Think much, speak little, and in speaking sigh. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. In your excuse your love does little say; In a sad look or womanish complaint You might, howe'er, have took a fairer way. I melt to womanish tears, and if I stay, DRYDEN. I find my love my courage will betray. DRvDEN. That love which first was set will first decay; Mine, of a fresher date, will longer stay. What did I not her stubborn heart to gain? DRYDEN. But all my vows were answer'd with disdain. My' hopes pursue a brighter diadem: DRYDEN. Can any brighter than the Roman be? NWith inauspicious love a wretched swain I find my proffer'd love has cheapen'd me. Pursued the fairest nymph of all the plain; DRYDEN. She plunged him hopeless in a deep despair. Her lovers' names in order to run o'er, DRYDEN. The girl took breath full thirty times and more. DRYDEN. -I would have ask'd you, if I durst for shame, If still you loved: you gave it air before me. Do not wantonly my passion move: DRYDEN. I pardon nothing that relates to love. DRYDEN. Your soul's above the baseness of distrust: Nothing but love could make you so unjust. Bte whose firm faith no reason could remove DRYDEN. Will melt before that soft seducer, love. DRYDEN.'Tis in her heart alone that you must reign; You'll find her person difficult to gain. Could you see into my secret soul, DRYDEN. There you might read your own dominion Pains of love be sweeter far doubled. C.DRYDEN. Than all other pleasures are. DRYDEN. She still insults, and you must still adore: Yourself first made that title which I claim, Grant that the honey's much, the gall is more. First bid me love, and authorized my flame. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. LOVE. 31: She said she loved, — No, Aurengzebe, you merit all my heart, Loved me desertless; who with shame confess'd And I'm too noble but to give a part. Another flame had seized upon my breast. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Love softens me, and blows up fires which pass If she can make me blest! she only can: Through my tough heart, and melt the stubborn Empire and wealth, and all she brings beside, mass. Are but the train and trappings of her love. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. She changed her state; You misjudge; Resistless in her love, as in her hate. You see through love, and that deludes your DRYDEN. sight; This noble youth to madness loved a dame As what is straight seems crooked through the Of high degree, Honoria was her name. water. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. He had his calmer influence, and his mien fire which choked in ashes lay Did love and majesty together blend. A load too heavy for his soul to move, DRYDEN. Was upward blown below and brush'd away by love..With two fair eyes his mistress burns his breast; DRYDEN. He looks and languishes, and leaves his rest, Forsakles his food, and, pining for the lass, To her the weeping heav'ns become serene; Is joyless of the grove, and spurns the growing For her the ground is clad in cheerful green. DRYDEN. grass. DRYDEN. All other debts may compensation find; Pleased with his idol, he commends, admires, But love is strict, and will be paid in kind. Adores; and last, the thing adored desires. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Mine is a love which must perpetual be, What have I done? To see yyoutWhat have I donee? If you can be so just as I am true. To see my youth, my beauty, and my love DRYDEN. No sooner gain'd, but slighted and betrayed; My love your claim inviolate secures; And, like a rose just gather'd from the stalk, My love your claim inviolate secures;'Tis writ in,:fate, I can be only yours. But only smelt, and cheaply thrown aside, r DRYDEN. To wither on the ground! DRYDEN. How much I suffer'd, and how long I strove The ills of love, not those of fate, I fear; / Against th' assaults of this imperious love These I can brave, but those I cannot bear. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. S. I fear to try new love, Look on me as a man abandon'd o'er As boys to venture on the unknown ice To an eternal lethargy of love: That crackles underneath them. To pull and pinch and wound me, cannot cure, DRYDEN. And but disturbs the quiet of my death. Love various minds does variously inspire: DRYDEN. He stirs in gentle natures gentle fire, What secret springs their eager passions move! Like that of incense on the altar laid; How capable of death for injured love! But raging flames tempestuous souls invade: DRYDEN. A fire which every windy passion blows; With pride it mounts, and with revenge it glows. See their wide streaming wounds i they neitherDRYDEN. DRYDEN. came For pride of empire nor desire of fame: One she found Kings fight for kingdoms, madmen for applause; With all the gifts of bounteous nature crown'd But love for love alone, that crowns the lover's Of gentle blood; but one whose niggard fate cause. Had set him far below her high estate. DRYDEN. DRYDEN'. 312 LOVE. Laws are but positive; love's pow'r we see Now low'ring looks'presage approaching storms, Is nature's sanction, and her first decree. And now prevailing love her face reforms. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. New loves you seek, Love, fixt to one, still safe at anchor rides, New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break. And dares the fury of the winds and tides; DRYDEN. But, losing once that hold, to the wide ocean For I am young, a novice in the trade, borne, The fool of love, unpractised to persuade, It drives away at will, to ev'ry wave a scorn. And want the soothing arts that catch the fair, DRYDEN. But, caught myself, lie struggling in the snare; Have I not managed my contrivance well, And she I love, or laughs at all my pain, To try your love, and make you doubt of mine? Or knows her worth too well, and pays me with DRYDEN. disdain. DRYDEN. And must I own, she said, my secret smart, Maids, women, wives, without distinction fall; What with more decence were in silence kept? The sweeping deluge, love, comes on, and coversRYDEN. all. Your cavalcade the fair spectators view DRYDEN. From their high standings, yet look up to Since you can love, and yet your error see, you: The same resistless pow'r may plead for me; From your brave train each singles out a ray, With no less ardour I my claim pursue; And longs to date a conquest from your day. I love, and cannot yield her ev'n to you. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Love the sense of right and wrong confounds; You doubt not me; nor have I spent my blood Strong love and proud ambition have no bounds. To have my faith no better understood: DRYDEN. Your soul's above the baseness of distrust; Love's a malady without a cure; Nothing but love could make you so unjust. Fierce love has pierced me with his fiery dart; DRYDEN. He fires within, and hisses at my heart. For this'tis needful to prevent her art, DRYDEN. And fire with love the proud Phoenician's heart. You are too young your power to understand; DRYDEN. Lovers take wing upon the least command. She sought Sicheus through the shady grove, DRYDEN. Who answer'd all her cares, and equall'd all her love. TiWould you so dote upon your first desire DRYDEN. As not to entertain a nobler fire? DRYDEN. He shall ever love, and always be The subject of my scorn and cruelty. My wily nurse by long experience found, DRYDEN. And first discover'd to my soul its wound; "'Tis love," said she; and then my downcast How I have loved! excuse my falt'ring tongue; My spirit's feeble, and my pains are strong. eyes, DRYDEN. And guilty dumbness, witness'd my surprise. DRYDEN. O love! thou sternly dost thy power maintain, And wilt not bear a rival in thy reign; And when two hearts were join'd by mutual Tyrants and thou all fellowship disdain. love, DRYDEN. The sword of justice cuts upon the knot, And severs'em forever. I hate to see a brave bold fellow sotted,RYDEN. DRYDEN. Made sour and senseless, turn'd to whey, by love; If it were so, which but to think were pride, A drivelling hero, fit for a romance. My constant love would dangerously be tried. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. LO VE. 313 We're both love's captives;; but with fate so cross, Was plighted faith so weakly seal'd above, One must be happy by the other's loss. That for one error I must lose your love? DRYDEN. DRYDEN. She either from her hopeless lover fled, Well may he then to you his cares impart, Or with disdainful glances shot him dead. And share his burden where he shares his heart. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. To myself I owe this due regard: Thirst and hunger may be satisfied; Not to make love my gift, but my reward. But this repletion is to love denied. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. She loves me, ev'n to suffer for my sake, My love was such, And on herself would my refusal take. It could, though he supplied no fuel, burn; DRYDEN. Rich in itself, like elemental fire, Of my heart I now a present malke; Whose pureness doth no aliment require. Accept it as when early fruit we send, And let the rareness the small gift commend. He loved so fast, DRYDEN. As if he fear'd each day would be her last; Too true a prophet to foresee the fate Search her cabinet, and thou shalt find That should so soon divide their happy state. Each tiller there with love-epistles lined. DRYDEN DRYDEN. He, surprised, with humble joy survey'd Beauty, wealth, and wit, One sweet regard shot by the royal maid. And prowess, to the pow'r of love submit;DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The spreading snare for all mankind is laid, And lovers all betray, or are betray'd. The peaceful pow'r that governs love repairs DRYDEN. To feast upon soft vows and silent pray'rs. DRYDEN. Love was no more when loyalty was gone, The great supporter of his awful throne. I'm aning in his fvour, yet I love him. DRYDEN. D RYDEN. For this a hundred voices I desire, In love's voyage nothing can offend; To tell thee what a hundred tongues would tire, Women are never seasick. DRYDEN. Yet never could be worthily exprest: How deeply thou art seated in my breast. Be sure a general doom on man is past, DRYDEN. And all are fools or lovers, first or last. DRYDEN. Wise men love you in their own despite, Anise men love youding in their native wit no despite, He thinks by flight his mistress must be won, Are forced to put your folly on to please. And claims the prize because he best did run. Are forced to put your folly on to please. DRYDEN. DRDEN. DRYDEN. With smiling aspect you serenely move This quell'd her pride; but other doubts re- In your fifth orb, and rule the realms of love. 1m1ain'd, DRYDEN. That, once disdaining, she might be disdain'd. DRYDEN. He took a low'ring leave; but who can tell What outward hate might inward love conceal! I find your love, and would reward it too; DRYDEN. But anxious fears solicit my weak breast. Jove left the blissful realms above, DRYDEN. Such is the pow'r of mighty love. As in some weather-glass my love I hold, DRYDEN. Which falls or rises with the heat or cold;!Thou hast deserved more love than I can show; I will be constant yet. But'tis thy fate to give, and mine to owe. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 3I4 LOVE. I find she loves him much, because she hides it. In moving lines these few epistles tell Love teaches cunning even to innocence; What fate attends the nymph who loves too well. And when he gets possession, his first work GARTH. Is to dig deep within the heart, and there Sooner shall cats disport in water clear, Lie hid, and, like a miser in the dark, LiTo feast alone. dlikeamiserinthedarkAnd speckled mack'rels graze the meadows fair, T nDRYDEN. Than I forget my shepherd's wonted love. GAY. TiSme I dare thee to discover Say how this instrument of love began; Such aR youth and such a lover. And in immortal strains display the fan. DRYDEN. GAY. True love's a miser; so tenacious grown, Eftsoons, 0 sweetheart kind, my love repay, He weighs to the least grain of what's his own. And all the year shall then be holiday. DRYDEN. GAY. True constancy no time, no power, can move: Quench, Corydon, thy long-unanswer'd fire; Quench, Corydon, thy long-unanswer'd fire; He that hath known to change, ne'er knew to Mind what the common wants of life require. love. DRYDEN. GAY: Dione. The cause of love can never be assign'd: Loe! thou hast every bliss in store:'Tis in no face,-but in the.lover's mind.'Tis friendship, ad'tis something more; DRYDEN. Each other ev'ry wish they give: Not to know love is not to live. Force never yet a generous heart did gain; GAY:. fabes. We yield on parley, but are storm'd in vain! n change of torment would In change of torment would be ease: DRYDEN. Could you divine what lovers bear, Love endures no tie, Even you, Prometheus, would confess And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury. There is no vulture like despair. DRYDEN: froM the Latin. GRANVILLE. Condemn'd on Caucasus to lie, Love, like spring tides, full and high, on Swells in every youthful vein; Still to be dying, not to die; With certain pain, uncertain of relief: But each tide doth less supply, ti th qite shr i a True emblem of a wretched lover's grief. Till they quite shrink in again: GRANVILLE. If a flow in age appear,'Tis but rain, and runs not clear. The stone that labours up the hill, DRYDEN. ocking the lab'rer's toil, returning still, That love alone which virtue's laws control Is love. GRANVILLE. Deserves reception in the human soul. EURIPIDES. NO warning of the approaching flame; Swiftly, like sudden death, it came: Wayward beauty cloth not fancy move: I loved the moment I beheld. I loved the moment I beheld. A frown forbids, a smile engendereth love. GRANVILLE. FAIRFAX. A little hope-but I have none. Till fate shall with a single dart On air the poor chameleons live: Transfix the pain it cannot part. Denied ev'n that, my love can live. FENTON. GRANVILLE. Love is not in our power, This sun is set, but see in bright array Nay, what seems stranger, is not in our choice: What hosts of heavenly lights recruit the day! We only love where fate ordains we should, Love in a shining galaxy appears, And, blindly fond, oft slight superior merit. Triumphant still. FROWDE: Fail of Sa,-untum. GRANVILIE. LOVE. 3I5 I'll be this abject thing no more! Young I'd have him too; Love, give me back my heart again. Yet a man with crisped hair, GRANVILLE. Cast in thousand snares and rings Thy love, still arm'cd with fate, For love's fingers and his wings. Is dreadful as thy hate. BEN JONSON. GRANVILLE. Follow a shadow, it flies you; Though train'd in arms, and learn'd in martial Seem to fly it, it will pursue: arts, So court a mistress, she denies you; Thou choosest not to conquer men, but hearts. Let her alone, she will court you. GRANVILLE. BEN JONSON. I have no will but what your eyesMan while he loves is never quite depraved, I have no will but what your eyes ordain; Destined to love, as they are doom'd to reign. And womans triumph is a lover saved. GRANVILLE. Love is a plant of the most tender kind, Oh! only those That shrinks and shakes with ev'ry ruffling wind. Whose souls have felt this one idolatry GRANVILLE. Can tell how precious is the slightest thing Affection gives and hallows! A dead flower When love could teach a monarch to be wise, Will long be felt, remembrancer of looks And gospel light first dawn'd from Bullen's That made each leaf a treasure. eyes. L. E. LANDON. GRAY. I need not say how, one by one, Small is the soul's first,wound from beauty's Love's flowers have dropp'd from off love's dart, chain And scarce th' unheeded fever warms the heart; Enough to say that they are gone, Long we mistake it under liking's name,- Ad that they cannot bloom again. A soft indulgence, that deserves no blame. L E. LANDON. Excited, though, the smother'd fire at length Bursts into blaze and burns with open strength; They parted as all lovers part; That image which before but soothed the mind She with her wrong'd and breaking heart, Now lords it there, and rages unconfined; But he, rejoicing to be free, Mixing with all our thoughts, it wastes the day, Bounds like a captive from his chain, And when night comes it dreams the soul away. And wilfully believing she AARON HILL. Hath found her liberty again; Let us now, in whisper'd joy, Or if dark thoughts will cross his mind, Evening's silent hours employ: They are but clouds before the wind. Silence best, and conscious shades, L. E. LANDON. Please the hearts that love invades; Please the hearts that love invades; That proud heart had been given to one Other pleasures give them pain: Lovers all but love disdain. DR. S. JOHNSON. And now she only strove to hide The burning shame within. Know'st thou not yet, when love invades the L. E. LANDON. soul, That all her faculties receive his chains? And had he not long read That reason gives her sceptre to his hand, The heart's hush'd secret in the soft dark eye Or only struggles to be more enslaved? I Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek DR. S. JOHNSON. Colouring all crimson at his lightest look? L. E. LANDON. Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love; I strove not to resist so sweet a flame, Though I now write fifty years, But gloried in a happy captive's name; I have had, and have, my peers. Nor would I now, would love permit, be free I BEN JONSON. LORD LYTTELTON. 3I6 L; O VE. None without hope e'er loved the brightest What higher in her society thou find'st, fair; Attractive, humane, rational, love still. But love can hope where reason would despair. MILTON. LORD LYTTELTON. This not mistrust, but tender love enjoins. Not all her arts my steady soul shall move; MILTON. And she shall find indifference conquers love. Nor set thy heart, LORD LYTTELTON. Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine. Who ever loved that loved not at first sight? MILTON. MARLOWE: Hero and Leander. 0 nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; The thoughts, and heart enlarges; ath his seat Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, The thoughts, and heart enlarges; hath his seat n reason, and is judicious; is the scale While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. In reason, and is judicious; is the scale MILTON. By which to heav'nly love thou may'st ascend. MILTON. Oh! if there be an elysiium on earth, Be obedient, and retain It is thisUnalterably firm his love entire. When two that are link'd in one heavenly tie MILTON. Love on through all ills, and love on till they I no sooner in my heart divined, die. MOORE. My heart, which by a secret harmony Still moves with thine, join'd in connection Love was to his impassion'd soul sweet! Not, as with others, a mere part MILTON. Of its existence, but tie whole: The very life-breath of the heart. What seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now MOORE. Mealn, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd. MILTON. Oh! there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream. I pleased, and with attractive graces won, MOORE. The most averse, thee chiefly. To feel that we adore MILTON. To such refined excess, This sweet intercourse That, though the heart would burst with more, Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason We could not live with less. flow, MOORE. To brute denied, and are of love the food. Oh! colder than the wind that freezes Founts that but now in sunshine play'd, Hopeful to regain Is that congealing pang that seizes Thy love, from thee I would not hide The trusting bosom when betray'd. What thoughts in my unquiet breast are ris'n. MOORE. MILTON. Oh! what was love made for, if'tis not the How can I live without thee, how forego same Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly join'd, Through joy and through sorrow, through glory To live again in these wild woods forlorn? and shame? MILTON. MOORE..Well do vanish'd frowns enhance She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods. MILTON. The charms of every brightened glance, And dearer seems each dawning smile Her looks from that time infused For having lost its light awhile. Sweetness into my heart unfelt before. MOORE. MILTON. I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart; Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined. I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art. MILTON. MOORE. LOVE. 317 The lover now, beneath the western star, A something light as air,-a look, Sighs through the medium of his sweet segar, A word unkind or wrongly taken,And fills the ears of some consenting she Oh! love that tempests never shook, With puffs and vows, with smoke and constancy. A breath, a touch, like this has shaken. MOORE. MOORE. Can I again that look recall Love, sole lord and monarch of itself, That once would make me die for thee? Allows no ties, no dictates but its own. No, no! the eye that burns on all No, *no the eye that burns on all To that mysterious arbitrary power Shall never more be prized by me! Reason points out and duty pleads in vain. MOTTLEY: Ilpnerial Cptlives. In pleasure's dream, or sorrow's hour, In crowded hall, or lonely bower, Say, Stella, what is love, whose fatal power The businesshal of msouelyh bowe, Robs virtue of content, and youth of joy? The business of my soul shall be ThForever to remember thee! be What nymph or goddess in a luckless hour Forever to remlember thee! MOORE. Disclosed to light the mischief-making boy? MRS. MULSO. Oh, thou shalt be all else to me That heart can feel or tongue can feign; Love not! love not! the thing you love may I'll praise, admire, and worship thee, change; But must lnot, dare not love again. The rosy lip may cease to smile on you, MJIOORE. The kindly beaming eye grow cold and strange, Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast, The heart still warmly beat, and not for you And the heart, and the hand, all thy own to the MRS. NORTON. last. 0 Castalio! thou hast caught MOORE. My foolish heart; and, like a tender child, Then fare thee well! I'd rather make That trusts his plaything to another hand, My bower upon some icy lake I fear its harm, and fain would have it back. When thawing suns begin to shine, OTWAY. Than trust to love so false as thine! MOORE. Happy my eyes when they behold thy face: Thinkest thou My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating That I could live, and let thee go At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys. Who art my life itself? No-no! OTWAY. I loved her first; I cannot quit the claim, No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But will preserve the birthright of my passion. But as truly loves on to the close; OTWAY. As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets, Oh tyrant love! The same look which she turn'd when he Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim, rose. And arts but soften us to feel thy flame. MOORE. POPE. And when once the young heart of a maiden is Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, stolen, Andl mighty hearts are held in slender chains. The, maiden herself will steal after it soon. POPE. MOORE. Who love too much hate in the like extreme. Oh! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd, POPE. Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd. MOORE. The garlands fade, the vows are worn away; So dies her love, and so my hopes decay. Oh! had we never, never met, POPE. Or could this heart e'en now forget H-ow link'd, how bless'd we might have been, Hear what from love unpractised hearts endure; Had fate not frown'd so dark between! From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure. MOORE. POPE. 318 LO VE. The god of love retires;. Yet, guiltless too, this bright destroyer lives; Dim are his torches, and extinct his fires. At random wounds, nor knows the wounds she POPE. gives. POPE. Ah! come not, write not, think not once of me, Ah! come not, write not, think not once of me, Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty swain, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. POPE. -Not show'rs to larks, or sunshine to the bee, Are half so charming as thy sight to me. Love indulged my labours past, Matures my present, and shall bound my last. POPE. Anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd, Anid secret passions labour'd in her breast. Let mutual joys our mutual trust combine, POPE. And love, and love-born confidence, be thine. POPE. Then let this dictate of my love prevail. POPE. I'll fly from shepherds, flocks, and flow'ry For when success a lover's toil attends, plains; Few ask if fiaud or force attain'd his ends. From shepherds, flocks, and plains I may remove, POPE. Forsake mankind, and all the world but love. POPE. Thy place is here, sad sister; come away: Once, like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd; Deign to be loved, and ev'ry heart subdue! Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid. What nymph could e'er attract such crowds POPE. as you? POPE. From opening skies may streaming glories shine, And saints embrace thee with a love like mine. The birds shall cease to tune their ev'ning song, POPE. The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, And streams to murmur, ere I cease to love. 0 mighty love! from thy unbounded power POPE. How shall the human bosom rest secure? How shall our thoughts avoid the various snare, Sudden he view'd, in spite of all her art, Or wisdom to or caution' soul declare Or wisdom to our caution'd soul declare An earthly lover lurking at her heart. POPE. The different shapes thou pleasest to employ When bent to hurt, and certain to destroy? How loved, how honour'd once, avails thee not. PRIOR. POPE. Has thy uncertain bosom ever strove Now warm in love, now with'ring in thy bloom, With the first tumults of a real love? Lost in a convent's solitary gloom. Hast thou now dreaded and now bless'd his POPE. sway, By turns averse and joyful to obey? Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play, y turns averse and joyful to obey? PRIOR. Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay. / POPE. The infant flames, whilst yet they were conceal'd In tim'rous doubts, with pity I beheld; What should most excite a mutual flame, With easy smiles dispell'd the silent fear Your rural cares and pleasures are the same. That durst not tell me what I died to hear. POPE. PRIOR. Warn'd by the sylph, 0 pious maid, beware! Forced compliments and formal bows This to disclose is all thy guardian's care; Will show thee just above neglect; Beware of all, but most beware of man. The fire which in thy lover glows POPE. Will settle into cold respect. PRIOR. Nor at first sight, like most, admire the fair: For you he lives; and you alone shall share From thy foolish heart, vain maid, remove His last affection, as his early care. A useless sorrow and an ill-starr'd love. POPE. PRIOR. O VE. 319 You may neglect, or quench, or hate the flame When, fired by passion, we attack the fair, Whose smoke too long obscured your rising Delusive sighs and brittle vows we bear. name, PRIOR. And cquickly cold incldiff'rence will ensue For I was born to love, and thou to reign. When you love's joys thro' honour's optic view. PRIOR. PRIOR. How oft from pomp and state did I remove, In vain I strove to check my growing flame, To feed despair, and cherish hopeless love! Or shelter passion under friendship's name; PRIOR. You saw my heart. PRIOR. T me pertains not, she replies, To know or care where Cupid flies, The happy whimsey you pursue, What are his haunts, or which his way, Till you at length believe it true; Where he would dwell, or whither stray. Caught by your own delusive art, PRIOR. You fancy first, and then assert. PRIOR. Could thirst of vengeance, and desire of fame, Excite the female breast with martial flame? By thy each look, and thought, and care,'tis And shall not love's diviner pow'r inspire shown More hardy virtue and more gen'rous fire? Thy joys are centred all in me alone. PRIOR. PRIOR. Now gall is bitter with a witness; The god of love himself inhabits there, PRIOR. With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and care, His complement of stores, and total war.'Tis then that with delight I rove PRIOR. Upon the boundless depth of love: I bless my chains, I hand my oar, Shaleet Thehefury myaid loNor think on all I left on shore. PRIOR. Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd, And weeping follow me, as thou dost now, Henry in knots involved his Emma's name With idle clamours of a broken vow. Upon this tree; and as the tender mark PRIOR. Grew with the year, and widen'd with the bark, Venus had heard the virgin's soft address, Love! fantastic pow'r! that is afraid That as the wound the passion might increase. To stir abroad till watchfulness be laid, PRIOR. Undaunted then o'er cliffs and valleys strays, And leads his vot'ries safe through pathless Love, well thou know'st, no partnership allows; ways. Cupid averse rejects divided vows. PRIOR. PRIOR. When thus the gather'd storms of wretched love, Char-ge Venus to comnmand her son, In my swoln bosom, with long war had strove,,Wherever else she lets him rove, Laid all the civil bonds of manhood waste, To shun my house, and field, and grove; And scatter'd ruin as the torrent past. Peace cannot dwell with hate or love. PRIOR. Moved by my charms, with them your love may If love, alas be pain, the pain I bear cease; No thought can figure, and no tongue declare. And as the fuel sinks, the flame decrease. PIOs. PRIOR. In vain you tell your parting lover She soothes, but never can inthrall my mind: You wish fair winds may waft him over. Why may not peace and love for once be join'd? PRIOR. PRIOR. In her forehead's fair half-roulnd The coast Love sits in open triumph crown'd; Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost. He in the dimple of her chin PRIOR. In private state by friends is seen. PRIOR. 320.LOVE. I reason'd much, alas! but more I loved; In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed, Sent and recall'd, ordain'd and disapproved. In war, he mounts the warrior's steed PRIOR. In halls, in gay attire is seen, In hamlets, dances on the green: What is true passion, if unblest it dies? In hamlets, dances on the green: Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies?,, PRIOR. And man below, and saints above; For love is heaven, and heaven is love! Then shun the ill; and know, my dear, SCOTT: Lay of thze Last Minzstrel. Kindness and constancy will prove When change itself can give no more, Tne only pillars fit to bear'Tis easy to be true. So vast a weight as that of love. PRIOR. SIR C. SEDLEY: Reasonsfoor Conzstanzcy. But could youth last, and love still breed, The fire of love in youthful blood, Had joys no date, and age no need, Had joys no date, and age no need, Like what is kindled in brush-wood, Then these delights my mind might move But for a moment burns. To live with thee, and be thy love. SHADWELL. RALEIGH. Writers say, as the most forward bud Urge your success; deserve a lasting name; Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, She'll crown a grateful and a constant flame. Even so by love the young and tender wit ROSCOMMON. Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, With easy freedom and a gay address Losing his verdure even in the prime. A pressing lover seldom wants success. SHAKSPEARE. ROWE. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud My heart was made to fit and pair within, The eating canker dwells, so eating love Simple and plain, and fraught with artless ten- Inhabits in the finest wits of all. derness. SHAKSPEARE. derness. ROWE. He is far gone, and, truly, in my youth Fools that we are, we know that ye deceive us, I suffer'd much extremity for love, Yet act as if the fraud was pleasing to us, Very near this. SHAKSPEARE. And our undoing joy. ROWE. I The pale complexion of true love, Such is love, And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain. And such the laws of his fantastic empire; SHAKSPEARE. The wanton boy delights to bend the mighty, This love of theirs myself have often seen, Ani-d scoffs at the vain wisdom of the wise. Haply when they have judged me fast asleep. ROWE. SHAKSPEARE. Have I not set at naught my noble birth, He wooes both high and low, both rich and A spotless fame, and an unblemish'd race, poor. The peace of innocence and pride of virtue? SHAKSPEARE. My prodigality has given thee all. You know that love ROWRE. Will creep in service where it cannot go. Love is, or ought to be, our greatest bliss; SHAKSPEARE. Since every other joy, how dear soever, lover may bestride the gossamer Gives way to that, and we leave all for love. That idles in the wanton summer air, RowE: Laidy 7anze Gr-ey. And yet not fall; so light is vanity. SHAKSPEARE. o love! how are thy precious sweetest moments Thus ever cross'd, thus vex'd with disappoint- To sense'tis gross ments! You love my son: invention is ashamed, Now pride, now fickleness, fantastic quarrels, Against the proclamation of thy passion, And sullen coldness, give us pain by turns! To say thou dost not. ROWE: Ulysses. SHAKSPEARE. LOVE. 32I Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Brown groves, Should without eyes see pathways to his ill! Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, SHAKSPEARE. Being lass-lorn. SHAKSPEARE. There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it. She's so conjunctive to my life and soul, SHAKSPEARE. That as the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her. Such as I am all true lovers are; SHAKSPEARE. Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature What man who knows That is beloved. What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose SHAKSPEARE. But must be, will his free hours languish out She will not fail; for lovers break not hours, For assured bondage? SAKSPEARE Unless it be to come before their time: So much they spur their expedition. With love's light wings I did o'erperch these SHAKSPEARE. walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out. If thou remember'st not the slightest folly SHAKSPEARE. That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved. How rarely does it meet with this time's guise SHAKSPEARE. When man was will'd to love his enemies! Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in SHAKSPEARE. taste: For vtaste: not love a Hercules A contract of true love to celebrate, For valour, is not love a Hercules? Forvalour, isntloeaAnd some donation freely to estate Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? On the blest lovers. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell; Gentle lady, It fell upon a little western flower, When first I did impart my love to you, Before milk-white, now purple with love's I freely told you, all the wealth I had wound. AKEARwound. E Ran in my veins. SHAKSPEARE.SHAKSPEARE. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Love's not love Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. When it is mingled with regards that stand SHAKSPEARE. Aloof from th' entire point. I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye; SHAKSPEARE. That liked, but had a rougher task in hand This ring, Than to drive liking to the name of love. Which when you part from, lose, or give away, SHAKSPEARE. Let it presage the ruin of your love, Now our joy, And be my'vantage to exclaim on you. Although our last though not our least young SHAKSPEARE. love, Sing no more ditties, sing no mo What say you? SHAKSPEARE. Of dumps so dull and heavy; The frauds of men were ever so, Since thou canst talk of love so well, Since summer first was leafy. Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. This is the very ecstasy of love, Love is a smoke raised with a fume of sighs: Whose violent property forgets itself, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. And leads the will to desperate undertakings. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The expedition of my violent love How furious and impatient they be, Outruns the pauser, reason. And cannot brook competitors in love. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE.: 21 322 LOVE. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate 0 spirit of love, how quick and fresh art tho u! Upon your grace, and not with duteous love That, notwithstanding thy capacity Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there, With hate in those where I expect most love. Of what validity and pitch soe'er, SHAKSPEARE. But falls into abatement and low price, Love is your master, for he masters you: Even in a minute SHAKSPEARE. And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. /Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me, SHAKSPEARE.!Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, Upon my knees ~iWar with good counsel, set the world at naught, cMade wit with musing weak, heart-sick with I charm you by my once-commended beauty, tog. By all your vows of love, and that great vow thought. Which did incorporate and make us one. SHAKSPEARE. I hold him but a fool, that will endanger Against all checks, rebukes, and manners, His body for a girl that loves him not. I must advance the colours of my love, SHAKSPEARE. And not retire. I would I were thy bird. SHAKSPEARE. Sweet, so would I; Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. A beauty-waning and distressed widow, SHAKSPEARE. Ev'n in the afternoon of her best days, Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye. This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, SHAKSPEARE. May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Under the colour of commending him, SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I have access my own love to prefer. SHAKSPEARE. I have done penance for contemning love, Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd All hearts in love use their own tongues; me Let every eye negotiate for itself, With bitter fasts and penitential groans. And trust no agent. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Never durst poet touch a pen to write, Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio, Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs. If I achieve not this young modest girl! SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. She is my essence, and I leave to be, I here do give thee that with all my heart, If I be not by her fair influence Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive. I would keep from thee. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Be thou as thou wFast wont to be, You are already love's firm votary, See as thou wast wont to see; And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower SHAKSPEARE. Hath such force and blessed power. Love adds a precious seeing to the eye. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. If my offence be of such mortal kind, Thou hast given me, in this beauteous face, That neither service past, nor present sorrows, A world of earthly blessings to my soul, Can ransom me into his love again, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. But to know so must be my benefit. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Notwithstanding all her sudden quips, I have acquainted you The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page, Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love Who mutually hath answer'd my affection. The more it grows, and fawneth on her still. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. LOI E. 323 Love is blind, and lovers cannot see I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, The pretty follies that themselves commit: But qualify the fire's extreme rage, For if they could, Cupid himself would blush Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. To see me thus transformed to a boy. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. A love that makes breath poor, and speech unLove will not be spurr'd to what it loathes. able; SHAKSPEARE. Beyond all manner of so much I love you. SHAKSPEARE. Lay lime to tangle her desires By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes It is my love that calls upon my name: Should be full fraught with serviceable vows. How silver sweet sound lovers' tongues by night! SHAKSPEARE. Like softest music to attending ears. SHAKSPEARE. What is love?'tis not hereafter: Present mirth hath present laughter; Love that comes too late, VWhat's to come is still unsure. Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, SHAKSPEARE. To the great sender turns a sour offence. SHAKSPEARE. They love the least that let men know their love. SHAKSPEARE. Unhappy that I am! I cannot heave My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty The next thing then she waking looks upon, According to my bond, no more nor less. On meddling monkey, or on busy ape, SHAKSPEARE. She shall pursue it with the soul of love. Blunt not his love; SHAKSPEARIE. Nor lose the good advantage of his grace, Love is full of unbefitting strains, By seeming cold. SHAKSPEARE. All wanton as a child, skipping in vain. SHAKSPEARE. The time was once, when thou unurged wouldst How wayward is this foolish love, vow That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse, That never words were music to thine ear, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! Unless I spake.,SHASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. All thy vexations My love is thaw'd, Me lvWe i, Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Which, like a waxen image'gainst a fire,.10,~ b, Hast strangely stood the test. Bears no impression of the thing it was. SHAKSPEARE. You dote on her that cares not for your love. Every night he comes With music of all sorts, and songs composed To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us What though I be not fortunate; To chide him from our eaves, for he persists But miserable most, to love unloved! As if his life lay on't. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. This aspect of mine I've charged thee not to haunt about my doors; The best-regarded virgins of our clime In honest plainness thou hast heard me say, Have loved. My daughter's not for thee. SHAKSPEARE. Do not fall in love with me; For I am falser than vows made in wine. O thou, that dost inhabit in my breast, SHAKSPEARE. Leave not the mansion so long tenantless; Lest growing ruinous the building fall, Love moderately: long love doth so; And leave no memory of what it was! Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE.' 324 L OyE. Fye, fye, unreverend tongue! to call her bad, O'tis the course of love, and still approved, Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd When women cannot love where they're beloved. With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Affection is a coal that must be cool'd, Here she stands: Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire. Take but possession of her with a touch; SHAKSPEARE. I dare thee but to breathe upon my love. SHAKSPEARE. My love doth so approve him That even his stubbornness, his checks and I am of ladies most deject and wretched, frowns, That suck'd the honey of his music vows. Have grace and favour in them. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly When love begins to sicken and decay, loves. It useth an enforced ceremony. SHAKSP-ARE. SHAKSPEARE. As much love in rhyme Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all. As seek to quench the fire of love with words SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the Too early seen unknown, and known too late. mind; SHAKSPEARE. And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. SIIAKSPEARE. Prosperity's the very bond of love; Whose fresh complexion and whose heart to Reason thus with reason fetter: Love sought is good, but given unsought is Affliction alters. better. H SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. \ tThey do not love that do not show their love. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, SHAKSPEARE. Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! SHAKSPEARE. A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon If thou hast not sat as I do now, I Than love that would seem hid: love's night is Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, noon. SHAKSPEARE. Thou hast not loved. SHAKSPEARE. I cannot love him: Things base and vile, holding no quality, Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; SHAKSPEARE. In voices well divulged, free, learn'd, and valiant, To be in love where scorn is bought with groans; And in dimensions, and the shape of nature, Coy looks, with heart-sore sighs; one fading A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him: moment's mirth, He might have took his answer long ago. With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: SHAKSPEARE. If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; Ifhapywo, pers gThe man that has a tongue, I say, is no man, If lost, why then a grievous labour won. SHAKSPEARE. If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. SHAKSPEARE. Why, what would you?Make me a willow cabin at your gate, If she do frown,'tis not in hate of you, And call upon my soul within the house; But rather to beget more love in you. Write loyal cantons of contemned love. If she do chide,'tis not to have you gone. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. LOVE. 325 But though I loved you well, I woo'd you Believe not that the dribbling dart of love not; Can pierce a complete bosom. And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man; SHAKSPEARE. Or, that we women had men's privilege Or, theatiwe women. had men'sprivilegeAh me! -for aught that I could ever read, Of speaking first. SHAKSPEARE. Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. She never told her love, SHAKSPEARE. But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek; she pined in Forgive me that I do not dream on thee, thought; Because thou seest me dote upon my love. And with a green and yellow melancholy, SHAKSPEARE. She sat (like patience on a monument) But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Smiling at grief. Would'st thou then counsel me to fall in love? SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE.'Twas pretty, though a plague,'Twas pretty, though a plague, Since his exile she hath despised me most, To see him every hour; to sit and draw Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me, His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, That I am desperate of obtaining her. In our heart's table; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy He did hold me dear Must sanctify his relics. Above this world; adding thereto, moreover, SHAKSPEARE. That he would wed me, or else die my lover. O how this spring of love resembleth SHAKSPEARE. The uncertain glory of an April day; If ever Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, You meet in some fresh cheek the power of And by-and-by a cloud takes all away. fancy, SHAKSPEARE. Then you shall know the wounds invisible That love's keen arrows make. Methinks I feel this youth's perfections Steal with an invisible and subtle stealth, SHAKSPEARE. ro creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What passion hangs these weights upon my SHAKSPEARE. tongue? I cannot speak to her; yet she urged conference. I know not why SHAKSPEARE. I love this youth; and I have heard you say, Love's reason without reason. Love doth to her eyes repair SHAKSPEARE. To help him of his blindness. SHAKSPEARE. All fancy-sickl she is, and pale of cheer With sighs of love. Love cools, friendship falls off, SHAKSPEARE. Brothers divide. SHAKSPEARE. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; If you do sorrow at my grief in love, Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor mine heart, By giving love, your sorrow and my grief That thought her like her seeming: it had been Were both extermined. vicious SHAKSPEARE. To have mistrusted her. I firmly vow SHAKSPEARE. Never to woo her more; but do forswear her, It were all one As one unworthy all the former favours That I should love a bright particular star, That I have fondly flatter'd her withal. And think to wed it; he is so above me: SHAKSPEARE. In his bright radiance and collateral light But my poor heart first set free, Must I be comforted; not in his sphere. Bound in those icy chains by thee. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 326 LOVE. Love like a shadow flies, when substance love Although I joy in thee, pursues; I have no joy of this contract to-night; Pursuing that which flies, and flying what It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, pursues. Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be SHAKSPEARE. Ere one can say, It lightens! She that hath a heart of that fine frame, SHAKSPEARE. To pay this debt of love but to a brother, Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, How will she love when the rich golden shaft With feigning voice, verses of feigning love; Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else And stolen the impression of her fantasy And stolen the impression of her fantasy That live in her! SHAKSPEARE. With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; mesHis soul is so enfetter'd to her love, sengers That she may make, unmake, do what she list. Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth. SHAKSPEARE.. SHAKSPEARE. Farewell; the leisure, and the fearful time, Love's heralds should be thoughts Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love, Which ten times faster glide than the. sunbeams, And ample interchange of sweet discourse. Driving back shadows over low'ring hills. SHAKSPEARE. Therefore do. nimble-pinion'd doves draw love; A contract of eternal bond of love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, SHAKSPEARE. Attested by the holy close of lips, No style is held for base, where love well Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings. named is. SHAKSPEARE. SIR P. SIDNEY. kI know I ylve in vain, strive against hoI; Love which lover hurts is inhumanity. Yet in this captious and intenible sieve SIR P. SIDNEY. I still pour in the waters of my love. Keen are the pangs -- I: ]A~PEAKSPw ARE. Of hapless love, and passion unapproved: My love to Hermia But where consenting wishes meet, aid vows, Is melted as the snow; seems to me now Reciprocally breathed, confirm the tie; As the remembrance of an idle gawd, Joy rolls on joy, an inexhausting stream! Which in my childhood I did dote upon. And virtue crowns the sacred scene. SHAKSPEARE. SMOLLETT: Re- icide. Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; As love can exquisitely bless, For, Get you gone, she doth not mean Away! Love only feels the marvellous of pain, SHAKSPEARE. Opens new veins of torture in the soul, And wakes the nerve where agonies are born. Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves SMOLLETT: Regcidc. to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand No man condemn me who has never felt And clepe thyself my love; then didst thou A woman's pow'r, or tried the force of love: utter, All tempers yield and soften in those fires: " I am yours forever." Our honours, interests, resolving down, SHAKSPEARE. Run in the gentle current of our joys. SOUTHERN. Here I clip The anvil of my sword; and do contest They sin who tell us Love can die: As hotly and as nobly with thy love, With life all other passions fly, As ever in ambitious strength I did All others are but vanity. Contend against thy valour. SOUTHEY: Curse of Kehaszaa. SHAKSPEARE. Love is indestructible: Nature gives her o'er; Its holy flame forever burneth; For scorn at first makes after love the more. From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. SHAKSPEARE. SOUTHEY: Curse of KeAehama. LOVE. 327 The joys of love, if they should ever last My frail fancy, fed with full delight, Without affliction or disquietness Doth bathe in bliss, and mantleth most at That worldly chances do among them cast, ease; Would be on earth too great a blessedness, Ne thinks of other heaven~ but how it might Liker to heaven than mortal wretchedness. Her heart's desire with most contentment SPENSER. please. SPENSER, True he it said, whatever man it said, That love with gall and honey doth abound: For unto knight there is no greater shame But if the one be with the other weigh'd, Than lightness and inconstancy in love. For every drachm of honey therein found SPENSER. A pound of gall doth over it redound. Penelope, for her Ulysses' sake, SPENSER. Devised a web her wooers to deceive: Albee my love he seeks with daily suit, In which the work that she all day did make, His clownish gifts and curtesies I disdain; The same at night she did unreave. His kids, his cracknels, and his early fruit. SPENSER. SPENSER. Joy of my life, full oft for loving you One loving hour I bless my lot, that was so lucky placed; For many years of sorrow can dispense; But then the more your own mishap I rue, A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sour. That are so much by so mean love embased. SPENSER. SPENSER. Each to these ladies' love did countenance,, With fawning words he courted her awhile, And to his mistress each himself strove to adAnd looking lovely, and oft sighing sore, vance. SPENSER. Her constant heart did court with divers guile; But words and looks and sighs she did abhor. Yet is my truth yplight And love avow'd to other lady late, That to remove the same, I have no might: Her ivory forehead, full of bounty brave, To change love causeless is reproach to warlike Like a broad table, did itself dispread, knight. For love his lofty triumphs to engrave, SPENSER. And write the battles of his great godhead. It was my fortune, common to that age, SPENSER. To love a lady fair, of great degree, The doubts and dangers, the delays and woes, The which was born of noble parentage, The feigned friends, the unassured foes, And set in highest seat of dignity. Do make a lover's life a wretched hell. SPENSER. Her joyous presence and sweet company Nor this nor that so much doth make me mourn, In full content he there did long enjoy; n c en e loBut for the lad whom long I loved so dear Ne wicked envy, nor vile jealousy, Now loves a lass that all his love doth scorn; His dear delights were able to annoy. HsereitaSPENSER. He plunged in pain his tressed locks doth teali SPENSER. SPENSER. The herald of love's mighty king, In whose coat-armour richly are display'd With one look she doth my life dismay, All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring. And with another doth it straight recure. SPENSER. SPENSER. Love they him call'd that gave me the check- From that day forth, I cast in careful mind mate; To seek her out with labour and long time. But better might they have behote him hate. SPENSER. SPENSER. But were thy years green as now be mine, Thy muse too long slumbereth in sorrowing, Then wouldst thou learn to carol of love, Lulled asleep through love's misgovernance. And hery with hymns thy lass's glove. SPENSER. SPENSER. 328 LOVE. Such is the power of that sweet passion, Why so pale and wan, fond lover? That it all sordid baseness doth expel. Pr'ythee, why so pale? SPENSER. Will, when looking well can't move her, I'll teach mine eyes, with meek humility, Looking ill prevail? SIR J. SUCKI,.NG. Love-learned letters to her eyes to read; Which her deep wit, that true heart's thought Quit, quit, for shame; this will not move, can spell, This cannot take her: Will soon conceive, and learn to construe well. If of herself she will not love, SPENSER. Nothing can make her. SIR J. SUCKLING. So oft as homeward I from her depart, I go like one that, having lost the field, Out upon it! I have loved Is prisoner led away with heavy heart. Three whole days together; SPENSER. And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Fondness it were for any, being free, SIR J. SUCI(LING. To covet fetters, though they golden be. SPENSER. We shorten'd days to moments by love's art, Whilst our two souls And let fair Venus, that is queen of love, Perceived no passing time, as if a part With her heart-quelling son, upon you smile. Our love had still been of eternity. SIR J. SUCKLING. I love thilk lass: alas, who do I love? Love why do we one passion call; She deigns not my good will, but doth reprove, When'tis a compound of them all And of my rural music holdeth scorn. Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet, In all their equipages meet; By that count which lovers' books invent, Where pleasures mix'd with pains appear, The sphere of Cupid forty years contains; Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear. Which I have wasted in long languishment, SWIFT. That seem'd the longer for my greater pains. By poets we are well assured SPENSER. That love, alas! can ne'er be cured; If when she appears in th' room A complicated heap of ills, Thou dost not quake and art struck dumb, Despising bolusses and pills. SWIFT. Know this, Tnow losthis iss;, sLove such nicety requires, One blast will put out all his fires. And to love true, SWIFT. Thou must begin again, and love anew. Vanessa, though by Pallas taught, By love invulnerable thought, I do confess Searching in books for wisdom's aid, The blind lad's pow'r, while he inhabits there; Was in the very search betray'd. But I'll be ev'n with him, nevertheless. SWIFT. SIR J. SUCKLING. How can heav'nly wisdom prove The crafty boy, that had full oft essay'd An instrument to earthly love? To pierce my stubborn and resisting breast, Know'st thou not yet that men commence But still the bluntness of his darts betray'd. Thy votaries for want of sense? SIR J. SUCKLING. SWIFT. Then let him, that my love shall blame,'Tis better to have loved and lost, Or clip love's wings, or quench love's flame. Than never to have loved at all. SIR J. SUCKLING. TENNYSON: Zn Meoriam. But, alas! no sea I find Ye fair! Is troubled like a lover's mind. Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts. SIR J. SUCKLING. THOMSON. LOVE. 329 Dear youth, by fortune favour'd, but by love, They that are to love inclined, Alas! not favour'd less, be still as now Sway'd by chance, not choice or art, Discreet. To the first that's fair or kind THOMSON. Make a present of their heart. Agony unmix'd, incessant gall, WALLER. Corroding every thought, and blasting all ~~~Love's paradise. ~Celia, for thy sake I part Love's paradise. THOMSON. With all that grew so near my heart; And that I may successful prove, And let the aspiring youth beware of love, Transform myself to what you love. Of the smooth glance beware; for'tis too late, WALLER. When on his heart the torrent-softness pours: Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame Here the proud lover, that has long endured Dissolves in air away. Some proud nymph's scorn, of his fond passion's THOMSON: Seasons.. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all It is not that I love you less In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent. Than when before your feet I lay; THOMSON: Seasons. But to prevent the sad increase Those fond sensations, those enchanting dreams, Of hopeless love, I keep away. Which cheat a toiling world from day to day, WALLER. And form the whole of happiness they know. None so lovely, sweet, and fair, THOMSON: Saojlonisba., Or do more ennoble love. Why should we kill the best of passions, love? WALLER. O-t-bids the hero, bids ambition rise In love, the victors from the vanquish'd fly; To nobler heights, inspires immortal deeds, They fly that wound, and they pursue that die. Ev'n softens brutes, and adds a grace to virtue.WALLER. THOMSON: Soizhonisba. Love Fair course of passion, where two lovers start And run together, heart still yoked with heart. Can answer love, and render bliss secure. WALLER. THOMSON. Such their guiltless passion was, Love is a medley of endearments, jars, As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart Suspicions, quarrels, reconcilements, wars, Of innocence and undissembling truth. Then peace again. THOMSON. WALSH. Alone amid the shades, Love's like a torch, which, if secured from Still in harmonious intercourse they lived blasts, The rural day, and talk'd with flowing heart, Will faintly burn; but then it longer lasts: Or sigh'd, and look'd unutterable things. Exposed to storms of jealousy and doubt, THOMSON: Seasons. The blaze grows greater, but'tis sooner out. A lover is the very fool of nature, WALSH. Made sick by his own wantonness of thought, Ill-grounded passions quickly wear away; THOMSONHis fever'd fancy. isb. What's built upon esteem can ne'er decay. THOMSON: Sothonisba. W s WALSH. Oh, never may suspicion's gloomy sky Chill the sweet glow of fondly trusting love! To all oliging, yet reserved to all, ~Nor ever may he feel the scowling eye None could himself the favour'd lover call. Of dark distrust his confidence reprove! WALSH. MRS. TIGHE: Psyche. But how perplex'd, alas! is human fate! The gay, the wise, the gallant, and the grave, I whom nor avarice nor pleasures move, Subdued alike, all but one passion have. Yet must myself be made a slave to love. WALLER. WALSH. 330 L OVE. —LUXUR Y. Mightier far Luxury Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Held out her lure to his superior eye, Of magic potent over sun and star, And grieved to see him pass contemptuous by. Is love, though oft to agony distrest, MADDEN. And though his favourite seat be feeble woman's Solomon lived at ease, nor aim'd beyond breast. WORDSWORTH. Higher design than to enjoy his state. MILTC)N. Ladies, whose love is constant as the wind; If all the world Cits, who prefer a guinea to mankind. TYIOUNG. Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but The young and gay declining, Alma flies frieze, At nobler game, the mighty and the wise: The All-giver would be unthank'd, would be By nature more an eagle than a dove, unpraised. She impiously prefers the world to love. MILTON. YOUNG. But just disease to luxury succeeds; And ev'ry death its own avenger breeds. LUXURY. POPE.'Tis use alone that sanctifies expense, With costly cates Rome stain'd her frugal board;'Tis use alone that sanctif, Then with ill-gotten gold she bought a lord; And splendour borrows all her rays from sense. Corruption, discord, luxury combined, Down sunk the far-famed mistress of mankind. In the fat age of pleasure, wealth, and ease, ARBUTHNOT. Sprung the rank weed, and thrived with large increase. War, and luxury, more direful rage POPE. Thy crimes have brought, to shorten mortal Then, grown wanton by prosperity, breath, Studied new arts of luxury and ease. With all the num'rous family of death. RoscoMMON. DRYDEN. Superfluity comes sooner O luxury! thou cursed by heaven's decree, By white hairs, but competency lives longer. How ill-exchanged are things like these for thee! SHAKSPEARE. How do thy potions, with insidious joy, I have disabled mine estate, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! By showing something a more swelling port - GOLDSMITH: Deseited YVila6e. Than my faint means would grant continuance; These thoughts he strove to bury' in expense, Nor do I now make moan, to be abridged Rich meats, rich wines, and vain magnificence. From such a noble rate. WALTER HARTE. SHAKSPEARE. MAX. 33I MAN. A creature of a more exalted kind Was wanted yet, and then was man design'd, Though sprightly, gentle; though polite, sincere; Conscious of thought. And only of thyself a judge severe. Conscious of thought. DRYDEN. BEATTIE. For we are animals no less, Vain men, how vanishing a bliss we crave: Although of different species. Now warm in love, now with'ring in the grave. BUTLER: Hzrdibras. DRYDEN. O ignorant poor man! what dost thou bear Men are but children of a larger growth: Lock'd up within the casket of thy breast? Our appetites are apt to change as theirs, What jewels and what riches hast thou there? And full as craving too, and full as vain. What heav'nly treasure in so weak a chest? DRYDEN. SIR J. DAVIES. Mankind one day serene and free appear; Oh! what is man, great Maker of mankind! The next, they're cloudy, sullen, and severe; That thou to him so great respect dost bear! New passions, new opinions, still excite; That thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind, And what they like at noon, they leave at night. Mak'st him a king, and ev'n an angel's peer. GARTH. SIR J. DAVIES. Consider, man, weigh well thy frame: And if that wisdom still wise ends propound, The king, the beggar, are the same; Why made he man of other creatures king; Dust form'd us all. Each breathes his day, When, if he perish here, there is not found Then sinks into his native clay. In all the world so poor and vile a thing? GAY: Fables. SIR J. DAVIES. Even the peasant dares these rights to scan, The wits that dived most deep, and soar'd most And learn to venerate himself as man. high, GOLDSMITH. Seeking man's pow'rs, have found his weakness such. These little things are great to little man. SIR J. DAVIES. GOLDSMITH: Traveller. God, when heav'n and earth he didicreate, Man's feeble race what ills await! Form'd man, who should of both participate. Labour and penury, the racks of pain, SIR J. DENHAM. Disease and sorrow's sweeping train, And death, sad refuge from the storms of fate. How dull and how insensible a beast' Is man, who yet would lord it o'er the rest! GRAY: Pr-og-ress of Poesy. Philosophers and poets vainly strove Nobler birth In every age the lumpish mass to move. Of creatures animate with gradual life, DRYDEN. Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in man. Man is but man, inconstant still, and various! MILTON. There's no to-morrow in him like to-day! In their looks divine Perhaps the atoms rolling in his brain The image of their glorious Maker shone, Make him think honestly the present hour; Truth, wisdom, sanctitude serene and pure. The next, a swarm of base ungrateful thoughts MILTON. May mount aloft. God on thee DRYDEN. Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd; That crawling insect, who from mud began, Inward and outward both, his image fair. Warm'd by my beams, and kindled into man! MILTON. DRYDEN. Nor think though men were none Man, the tyrant of our sex, I hate; That heav'n would want spectators, God want A lowly servant, but a lofty mate. praise. DRYDEN. MILTON. Man must be known, his strength, his state, So deep a malice to confound the race And by that tenure he holds all of fate. Of mankind in one root. DRYDEN. MILTON. 332.MAN. Trust not a man: we are by nature false, With too much knowledge for the skeptic's side, Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and inconstant; With too much weakness for the stoic's pride, When a man talks of love, with caution hear him; Man hangs between. But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee. POPE. OTWAY: OJ2)han. They bore as heroes, but they felt as men. Behold the child, by nature's kindly law, POPE. Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw; Thus the mercury of man is fix'd, Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, Strong grows the virtue with his nature mix'd; A little louder, but as empty quite;- The dross cements what else were too refined, Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage, And in one int'rest body acts with mind. And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age, POIE. Pleased with this bauble still, as that before, Till tired, he sleeps, and life can charm no more. On human actions reason though you POPE. It may be reason, but it is not man. POPE. See the same man in vigour, in the gout; Alone, in company; in place, or out; What would this man? Now upward will he Early at business, and at hazard late; soar, Mad at a fox-chase, wise in a debate; And, little less than angel, would be more: Drunk at a borlough, civil at a ball; *Now, looking downward, just as grieved appears Friendly at Hackney, faithless at Whitehall. To want the strength of bulls or fur of bears. POPE. POPE. Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find) Still by himself abused or disabused; Is not to act or think beyond mankind; Created half to rise, and half to fall; No pow'rs of body or of soul to share, Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; But what his nature and his state can bear. Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd; POPE. The glory, jest, and riddle of the world. Why has not man a microscopic eye? POPE. For this plain reason, man is not a fly; Vast chain of being, which from God began, Say what the use, were finer optics given, Nature's ethereal, human; angel, man. T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n? POPE.Nature's ethereal, human; angelmPOPE. POPE. Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest, Expatiate fee o'er all the scene of man; Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest? Almighty maze! but not without a plan. POPE. POPE. Man is a very worm by birth, As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, Vile reptile, weak and vain! As the rapt seraph that adores and burns. Awhile he crawls upon the earth, POPE. Then shrinks to earth again. POPE. WVeak, foolish man! will heaven reward us there With the same trash mad mortals wish for here? So man, who here seems principal alone, POPE. Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown; Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal: There must be somewhere such a rank as man;'Tis but a part we see, and not the whole. And all the question, wrangle e'er so long, POPE. is only this, If God has placed him wrong? POPE. Prepared I stand: he was but born to try The lot of man, —to suffer and to die. Not always actions show the man; we find POPE. Who does a kindness is not therefore kind; Perhaps prosperity becalm'd his breast, Know then thyself, presume not God to scan: Perhaps the wind just shifted from the east. The proper study of mankind is man. POPE. POPE. IMA. 333 Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, I dare do all that may become a man; Now green in youth, now withering on the Who dares do more, is none. SHAKSPEARE. ground: Another race the following spring supplies; A combination and a form indeed, They fall successive, and successive rise. Where every god did seem to set his seal POPE. To give the world assurance of a man. Man, foolish man! StHAKSPEARE. Scarce know'st thou how thyself began; But man we find the only creature Scarce hadst thou thought enough to prove thou Who, led by folly, combats nature; art; Who, when she loudly cries, Forbear! Yet, steel'd with studied boldness, thou dar'st With obstinacy fixes there; try And, where his genius least inclines, To send thy doubting Reason's dazzled eye Absurdly bends his whole designs. Through the mysterious gulf of vast immensity. SWIFT. PRIOR. Vain human kind! fantastic race! On thy chin the springing beard began Thy various follies who cal trace? To spread a doubtful down, and promise man. Self-love, ambition, envy, pride, PRIOR. Their empire in our hearts divide. The vile worm, that yesterday began SWIFT. To crawl; thy fellow-creature, abject man. What were unenlighten'd man? PRIOR. A savage roaming through the woods and wilds Thyself but dust, thy stature but a span; In quest of prey. - THOMSON. A moment thy duration, foolish man! PRIOR. Man is thy theme, his virtue or his rage Drawn to the life in each elab'rate page. But what a thoughtless animal is man,- -WLLER Hown ver tive in his own trepan! ROSCOMMON. More danger now from man alone we find Than from the rocks, the billows, and the wind. This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth WALLER. The tender lFavyes of hope, to-morrow blossoms, No forest, cave, or savage den And bears his\blushing honours thick upon him Holds more pernicious beasts than men; The third dayXcomes a frost, a killing frost, Vows, oaths, and contracts they devise, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely And tell us they are sacred ties. His greatness is a ripening, nips his root; WALLER. And then he falls as I do. SHARSPEARE. How poor, how rich, how abject, howv august, How complicate, how wonderful is man! Hi-s life was gentle; and the elements How passing wonder He who made him such! So mix't in him that nature might stand up, OUNGit Toug/ts. And say to all the world,-This is a man! SHAKSPEARE. Ah! how unjust to nature, and himself, Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man! If that the heavens do not their visible spiritsOUNG: Isto t, 7tl iZog/!s. Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, And all may do what has by, And all may do what has by man been done. Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep. SHAKSPEARE. Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade! Digressing from the valour of a man. YOUNG: Paroiaorsse of yob. SHAKSPEARE. This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun, I do not think Those skies, through which it rolls, must all So fair an outward, and such stuff within, have end. Endows a man but him. What then is man? the smallest part of nothing. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG: Revclege. 334 MANN;ERS. MANNERS. Love taught him shame; and shame, with love What are these wondrous civilizing arts, at strife, Soon taught the sweet civilities of life. This Roman polish, and this smooth behaviour, DRYDEN. That render man thus tractable and tame? ADDISON. He bore his great commission in his look; But sweetly temper'd awe, and soften'd all he The maid improves her charms With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom, spoke. DRYDEN. And sanctity of manners. ADDISON. Bertram has been taught the arts of courts, To gild a face with smiles, and leer a man to And rash enthusiasm in good society ruin. Were nothing but a moral inebriety. DRYDEN. BYRON. In minds and manners, twice opposed we see; What's a fine person, or a beauteous face, In the same sign, almost the same degree. Unless deportment gives them decent grace? DYDEN. Bless'd with all other requisites to please, Some want the striking elegance of ease: His brutal manners from his breast exiled, -The curious eye their awkward movement tires, His mien he fashion'd, and his tongue he filed. They seem like puppets led about by wires. DRYDEN. CHURCHILL: Rosciad. Nothing reserved or sullen was to see; Our sensibilities are so acute, But sweet regards. The fear of being silent makes us mute. DRYDEN. COWPER. Good manners bound her to invite A morlal, sensible, and well-bred man The stranger dame to be her guest that night. Will not affront me, and no other can. DRYDEN. COWPER: Conversation. Attend the court, and thou shalt briefly find Her air, her manners, all who saw admired; In that one place the manners of manlkind; Courteous, though coy, and gentle, though re- Hear the indictments, then return again, tired; Call thyself wretch, and, if thou dar'st, comThe joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, plain. DRYDEN. And ease of heart her every look convey'd. The gen'ral voice CRABBE: Parish Regfister. Sounds him, for courtesy, behaviour, language,'Tis true (as the old proverb doth relate) And ev'ry fair demeanour, an example: Equals with equals often congregate. Titles of honour add not to his worth, SIR J. DENHAM. Who is himself an honour to his title. JOHN FORD. Oh, monstrous, superstitious puritan, Of refined manners, yet ceremonial man, The one intense, the other still remiss, That, when thou meet'st one, with inquiring Cannot well suit with either; but soon prove eyes Tedious alike. Dost search, and, like a needy broker, prize MILTON. The silk and gold he wears. Those thousand decencies, that daily flow DONNE. From all her words and actions. He the stubborn soil manured, MILTON. With rules of husbandry the rankness cured;'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Tamed as to manners. Blunt truths more mischief than nice falseDRYDEN. hoods do. But never was there a man, of his degree, Men must be taught as if you taught them not, So much esteemed, so well beloved, as he: And things unknown proposed as things forgot. So gentle of condition was he known, Without good breeding truth is disapproved; That through the court his courtesy was blown. That only makes superior sense beloved. DRYDEN. POPE. -MA7VNNERS. ~335 Form'd by thy converse happily to steer Beyond the fix'd and settled rules From grave to gay, from lively to severe; Of vice and virtue in the schools, Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease, The better sort shall set before'eih Intent to reason, or polite to please. A grace, a manner, a decorum. POPE. PRIOR. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, The nymph did like the scene appear, Might hide her faults; if belles had faults to Serenely pleasant, calmly fair; hide. Soft fell her words as blew the air. POPE. PRIOR. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought; Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time; But never, never reach'd one gen'rous thought: Some that will evermore peep through their eye, Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour; And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper; Content to dwell in decencies forever. And others of such vinegar aspect POPE. That they'll not show their teeth in way of My lord advances with majestic mien, smile, Smit with the mighty pleasure to be seen. Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. A decent boldness ever meets with friends, This is some fellow Succeeds, and even a stranger recommends. Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth POPE. affect A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb All manners take a tincture from our own, Quite from his nature. Or come discolour'd through our passions shown. SHAKSPEARE, POPE. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, Of manners gentle, of affections mild; Or else a rude despiser of good manners, In wit a man, simplicity a child. / That in civility thou seem'st so empty? POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Of softest manners, unaffected mind; Proud Italy Lover of peace, and friend of human kind. POPE. Whose manners still our tardy apish nation Limps after in base awkward imitation. Trifles themselves are elegant in him. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. What reverence he did throw away on slaves, Manners with fortunes, humours turn with Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles. climes, SHAKSPEARE. Tenets with books, and principles with times. POPE. Oh form! How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, Thus affable and mild the prince precedes, Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls And to the dome th' unknown celestial leads. POPE. To thy false seeming! SHAKSPEARE. Morality, by her false guardians drawn, Thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge Chicane in furs, and casuistry in lawn. And manners, to intrude where I am graced. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, she is And catch the manners living as they rise;. And catch the manners living as they rise; Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can, And he's composed of harshness. But vindicate the ways of God to man. SIAAhSPFARE. POPE. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Charm'd by their eyes, their manners I acquire, Which gives men stomach to digest his words And shape my foolishness to their desire. With better appetite. PRIOR. SHAKSPEA RE. 336 MA NNERS. -MAf TRIMONY. You needs must learn, lord, to amend this fault; Yet, of manners mild, Though sometimes it shows greatness, courage, And winning every heart, he knew to please, blood, Nobly to please; while equally he scorn'd Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, Or adulation to receive or give. Defect of manners, want of government, THOMSON. Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain. SHAKSPEARE. Ease in your mien, and sweetness in your face, You speak a siren, and you move a grace; These kinds of knaves, in plainness, Nor time shall urge these beauties to decay, Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends While virtue gives what years shall steal away. Than twenty silky ducking observants, TICKELL. That stretch their duties nicely. SHAKSPEARE. Your looks must alter, as your subject does; From kind to fierce, from wanton to severe. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, WALLER. Forgets the shows of love to other men. SHAKSPEARE. In simple manners all the secret lies: Be kind and virtuous, you'll be blest and wise. A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue; YOUN;. Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks. SHAKSPEARE. Stiff forms are bad, but let not worse intrude, Nor conquer art and nature to be rude. The thorny point YOUNG. Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility. In glitt'ring scenes o'er her own heart severe; SHAKSPEARE. In crowds collected, and in courts sincere. YOUNG. Men's evil manners live in brass, their virtues We write in water. SHA KSPEARE. MATRIMONY. You are above No little scribbler is of wit so bare, The little forms which circumscribe your sex. SOUTHERN. But has his fling at the poor wedded pair. ADDISON. How else, said he, but with a good bold face, A senator of Rome, while Rome survived, And with big words, and with a stately pace? Would not have match'd his daughter with a SPENSER. king. A DDISON. Let be thy bitter scorn, And leave the rudeness of that antique age No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast, To them that lived therein in state forlorn. Nor blasted were their wedded days with SPENSER. strife Each season look'd delightful, as it past, Study with care politeness, that must teach The mdsfomofgsranofsec: To the fond husband and the faithful wife. The modish forms of gesture and of speech: BEATIE: ise. In vain formality, with matron mien, And pertness apes with her familiar grin; Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet They against nature for applauses strain, To think how monie counsels sweet, Distort themselves, and give all others pain. How monie lengthen'd sage advices, BENJ. STILLINGFLEET. The husband frae the wife despises. BURNS. What fairer cloak than courtesy for fraud? EARL OF STIRLING. A widow who, by solemn vows, Contracted to me for my spouse, Some clergy too she would allow, Combined with him to break her word, Nor quarrell'd at their awkward bow. And has abetted all. SWIFT. BUTLER: Huit)ciras. MA TRIMONY 337 Find all his having and his holding Marriage-rings are not of this stuff: Reduced t' eternal noise and scolding;. Oh! why should aught less precious or less The conjugal petard that tears tough Down all portcullises of ears. Figure our loves? DONNE. BUTLER: Hudibras. Thou dost protest thy love, and would it show Few-none-find what they love or could have By matching her as she would match her foe. DONNE. loved: DONNE. Though accident, blind accident, and the strong All of a tenor was their after-life, Necessity of loving, have removed No day discolour'd with domestic strife; Antipathies-but to recur, ere long, No jealousy, but mutual truth believed, Envenom'd with irrevocable wrong. Secure repose, and kindness undeceived. BYRON: Childe Harold. DRYDEN. Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare, Some country girl, scarce to a courtsy bred, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might Would I much rather than Cornelia wed, despair. If, supercilious, haughty, proud, and vain, BYRoN: Eng. Bards and Scot. Reviewers. She brought her father's triumphs in her train. But a smooth and steadfast mind, DRYDEN. Gentle thoughts and calm desires, et thu cm e, What if I ne'er consent to make you mine; Hearts with equal love combined, Kit neqy lves, My father's promise ties me not to time, K indle never-dying fires. CAREW. And bonds without a date, they say, are void. DRYDEN. Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasThese truths with his example you disprove Married in haste, we may repent at leisure. Who with his wife is monstrously in love. CONGREVE: Old Bachelor. DRYDEN. But, whether marriage bring joy or sorrow, Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers,, Make sure of this day, and hang to-morrow. We, who improve his golden hours, DRYDEN. By sweet experience know That marriage, rightly understood, They soon espoused; for they with ease were Gives to the tender and the good join'd, A Paradise below. Who were before contracted in the mind. COTTON. DRYDEN. Misses! the tale that I relate This yoke of marriage from us both remove, This lesson seems to carry,- Where two are bound to draw, though neither Choose not alone a proper mate, love. But proper time to marry. DRYDEN. COWPER. The kindest and the happiest pair One thought the sex's prime felicity Will find occasion to forbear; Was from the bonds of wedlock to be free, And something, every day they live, And uncontroll'd to give account to none. To pity, and perhaps forgive. DRYDEN. COWPER: Metutal Forbearance. 0 fatal maid! thy marriage is endow'd With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutilian blood. The hour of marriage ends the female reign, DRYDEN. And we give all we have to buy a chain; Hire men to be our lords who were our slaves, Ill bears the sex a youthful lover's fate, And bribe our lovers to be perjured knaves. When just approaching to the nuptial state. JOHN CROWNE. DRYDEN. Nor in a secret cloister doth he keep The roofs with joy resound; These virgin spirits until their marriage-day. And Hymen, Io Hymen, rung around. SIR J. DAVIES. DRYDEN. 22 338 JMA TRIMONVYE Since I am turn'd the husband, you the wife, The husband's sullen, dogged, shy, The matrimonial victory is mine, The wife grows flippant in reply; Which, having fairly gain'd, I will resign. He loves command and due restriction, DRYDEN. And she as well likes contradiction. She never slavishly submits: He had such things to urge against our marriage She'll have her will, or have her fits; As, now declared, would blunt my sword in battle He this way tugs, she that way draws, And both find fault with equal cause. And dastardize my courage. DRYDEN. GAY: Fablels. I love my husband still Nuptials of form, of int'rest, or of state, I love my husband still; Those seeds of pride, are fruitful in debate; But love him as he was when youthful grace Let happy men for generous love declare, Let happy men for generous love declare, And the first down began to shade his face. DRYDEN. And choose the needy virgin, chaste and fair. GLANVILLE. Then, mixing pow'rful herbs with magic art, She changed his form who could not change So, with decorum all things carried, his heart. Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was DRYDEN. married. GOLDSMITH. Thou shalt secure her helpless sex from harms, And she thy cares will sweeten with her charms. Follow, ye nymphs and shepherds all, DRYDEN. Come celebrate this festival, And merrily sing and sport and play; Short were her marriage joys; for in the primeTis Ariana's nuptial day.,Of youth her lord expired before his time. GRANVILLE. DRYDEN. 0 marriage! marriage! what a curse is thine'With him she strove to join Lavinia's hand,s alone consent, and hearts abhor:But dire portents the purposed match withstand.ARON HILL. DRYDEN. TDRYDEN. here have been wedlock's joys of swift decay, Errors of wives reflect on husbands still. Like lightning, seen at once and shot away; DRYDEN. But theirs were hopes which, all unfit to pair, Secrets of marriage still are sacred held; Like fire and powder, kiss'd, and flash'd to air. Their sweet and bitter by the wise conceal'd. Thy soul and mine, by mutual courtship won, DRYDEN. Meet like two mingling flames, and make but With unresisted might the monarch reigns: one. He levels mountains, and he raises plains; Union of hearts, not hands, does marriage make, And, not regarding diff'rence of degree, And sympathy of mind keeps love awake. Abased your daughter, and exalted me. AARON HILL. DRYDEN. Where many a man at variance with his wife In bond of virtuous love together tied, With soft'ning mead and cheese-cake ends the strife. Together served they, and together died. DR. WVi. KING. FAIRFAX. To all married men be this caution, Wedded love is founded on esteem, Which they should duly tender as their life,Which the fair merits of the mind engage; Neither to dote too much, nor doubt a wife. For those are charms which never can decay, MASSINGER: Picture. But time. which gives new whiteness to the O, we do all offend! swan, There's not a day of wedded life, if we Improves their lustre. FENTON: Zllariasmnie. Count at its close the little, bitter sum Of thoughts and words and looks unkind and He sighs with most success that settles well. froward, GARTIH. Silence that chides, and woundings of the eye, Will she with huswife's hand provide thy meat, But prostrate at each other's feet we should And ev'ry Sunday morn thy neckcloth plait? Each night forgiveness ask. GAY. MATIURIN: Bertramz. MA TRIM-ONY 339 He never shall find out fit mate, but such Conjugal affection, As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, HIath led me on, desirous to behold Through her perverseness, but shall see her Once more thy face..gaind MILTON. gain'd By a far worse. MILTON. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe with taper clear, The virgin quire for her request And pomp, and feast, and revelry, The god that sits at marriage-feast; and an Z>~, ~With mask and antic pageantry. He at their invoking came, MILTON. But with a scarce well-lighted flame. The pure, open, prosperous love, That, pledged on earth, and seal'd above, Hail! wedded love, Grows in the world's approving eyes, Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets! In friendship's smile, and home's caress; MILTON. Collecting all the heart's sweet ties The virgins also shall on feastful days Into one knot of happiness. Visit his tomb with flow'rs, only bewailing His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, And if division comes, it soon is past; From whence captivity and loss of eyes. Too sharp, too strange an agony to last! MILTON. And like some river's bright, abundant tide, God's universal law Which art or accident had forced aside, Gave to the man despotic power The well-springs of affection, gushing o'er, Over his female in due awe, Back to their natural channels flow once more. Nor from that right to part an hour, MRS. NORTON. Smile she or lour. Yet here and there we grant a gentle bride, MILTON. Whose temper betters by the father's side; Ofttimes nothing profits more Unlike the rest that double human care, Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right, Fond to relieve, or resolute to share: Well managed; of that skill the more thou Happy the man whom thus his stars advance! know'st, The curse is general, but the blessing chance. The more she will acknowledge thee her head. PARNELL: Hesiod. MILTON. There swims no goose so gray but, soon or late, In us both one soul, She finds some honest gander for a mate. Harmony to behold in wedded pair! POPE. More grateful than harmonious sounds to th' There are, whom heav'n has blest with stores ear. MILTON. of wit, Yet want as much again, to manage it; What thou art is mine: For wit and judgment ever are at strife, Our state cannot be sever'd; we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself. Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife. One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself. MILTON. Of fellowship I speak, The fool whose wife elopes some thrice a Such as I see, fit to participate quarter, All rational delight, wherein the brute For matrimonial solace dies a martyr. Cannot be human consort. POPE. - MILTON. Chloe, blind to wit and worth, Defaming as impure what God declares Weds the rich dulness of some son of earth. Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. POPE. MILTON. If her sire approves, These are the product Let her espouse her to the peer she loves. Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'st, POPE. Where good with bad were match'd. Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake. MILTON. POPE.. 340 MA TRIMONY. Purest love's unwasting treasure; As are those dulcet sounds in break of day Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure: That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear Sacred Hymen! these are thine. And summon him to marriage. POPE. SHAKSPEAR E. Sometimes my plague, sometimes my darling, You'll prove a jolly surly groom, Kissing to-day, to-morrow snarling. That take it on you at the first so roundly. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. Bid her instant wed, Nothing can or shall content my soul And quiet dedicate her remnant life Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife. To the just duties of an humble wife. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. If you shall marry, Will you be only and forever mine? You give away this hand, and that is mine; From this dear bosom shall I ne'er be torn? You give away heav'n's vows, and those are Or you grow cold, respectful, or forsworn? mine! PRIOR. You give away myself, which is known mine. SHAKSPEARE. And now your matrimonial Cupid,, Lash'd on by time, grows tired and stupid: The priest let fall the book, For story and experience tell us And as he stoop'd again to take it up, That man grows old, and woman jealous. The mad-brain'd bridegroom gave him such a Both would their little ends secure; cuff He sighs for freedom, she for power: That down fell priest and book, and book and His wishes tend abroad to roam; priest. SHAKSPEARE. And hers to domineer at home. PaR~IOaR. That I see thee here, Thou noble thing 1 more dances my rapt heart Did I but purpose to embark with thee Than when I first my wedded mistress saw While gentle zephyrs play in prosp'rous gales, Bestride my threshold. SHAKSPEARE. But would forsake the ship, and make the shore, When the winds whistle and the tempests roar? Her only fault (and that is faults enough) PRIOR. IS, that she is intolerably curst, Our meeting hearts And shrewd, and froward: so beyond all measConsented soon, and marriage made us one. ure, ROWE. That were my state far worser than it is, I would not wed her for a mine of gold. When souls that should agree to will the same, SHAKSPEARE. To have one common object for their wishes, Look different ways, regardless of each other, But that I love the gentle Desdemona Think what a train of wretchedness ensues! ROWE. I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumspection and confine Are we not one?' are we not join'd by heav'n? For the sea's worth. Each interwoven with the other's fate? SHAKSPEARE. Are we not mix'd like streams of meeting rivers, How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it Whose blended waters are no more distin- That thou art then estranged from thyself? guish'd, Thyself I call it, being strange to me. But roll into the sea one common flood? SHAKSPEARE. ROWE: Falir Peffent. iThou art an elm, my husband; I a vine, For marriage is a matter of more worth Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Than to be dealt in by attorneyship; Makes me with thy strength to communicate. For what is wedlock forced but a hell, SHAKSPEARE. An age of discord and continual strife? Honest company, I thank you all, Whereas the contrary bringeth forth happiness, That have beheld me give away myself. And is a pattern of celestial bliss. To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. MA TRIMONY 341 My heart's dear love is set on his fair daughter; I am enjoin'd by oath, if I fail As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine, Of the right casket, never in my life And all combinred save' what thou must com- To woo a maid in way of marriage. bine SHAKSPEARE. By holy marriage. -SHAKSPEARE. Therein she doth evitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours Now go with me, and with this holy man, Which forced marriage would have brought Into the chantry by; upon her. And underneath that consecrated roof SHAKSPEARE. Plight me the full assurance of that faith. Let still the woman take SHAKSPEARE. An elder than herself; so wears she to him, In the temple, by and by with us, So sways she level in her husband's heart. These couples shall eternally be knit. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Thou sayst his meat was sauced with thy upThe match braidings; Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle- Unquiet meals make ill digestions. man SHAKSPEARE. Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities, The instances that second marriage move Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter. Are base respects of thrift, but none of love. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I must confess, your offer is the best: The main consents are had, and here we'll stay And let your father make her the assurance,, To see our widower's second marriage day. She is your own; else you must pardon me: If you should die before him, where's her dower? SHAKSPEARE. God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one. Your daughter hath made a gross revolt: SHAKSPEARE. Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes In an extravagant and wheeling stranger. Here's eight that must take hands SHAKSPEARE. To join in Hymen's bands. SHAKSPEARE. How I firmly am resolved, you know; That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter I have thrust myself into this maze, Before I have a husband for the elder. Haply to wive and thrive as best I may. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, Razing the characters of your renown. To want the bridegroom, when the priest attends To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage! SHASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. This done, our day of marriage shall be yours, Er~e yet the salt of most unrighteous tears One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, SHAKSPEARE. She married. Her father counts it dangerous SHAKSPEARE. That she would give her sorrows so much sway; They make marriage vows And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, As false as dicers' oaths. To stop the inundation of her tears. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. They'll sit by th' fire, and presume to know He is the half part of a blessed man, What's done i' the Capitol: who's like to rise, Left to be finished by such as she; Who thrives, and who declines: side factions, And she a fair divided excellence, and give out Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. Conjectural marriages. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 342- MA TRIM ONY.-MEDICIVE. Fathers their children and themselves abuse, Say, shall I love the fading-beauty less, That wealth a husband for their daughters Whose spring-tide radiance has been wholly choose. mine? SHIRLEY: School of Compliments. No-come what will, thy steadfast truth I'll bless; At last'such grace I found, and means I wrought, In-youth, in age, thine own-forever thine. That I that lady to my spouse had won; A. A. WATTS. Accord of friends, consent of parents sought, Affiance made, my happiness begun. Wedlock's a saucy, sad, familiar state, SPENSER. Where folks are very apt to scold and hate: Love keeps a modest distance, is divine, Ensample make of him, your hapless joy, Obliging, and says ev'rything that's fine And of myself, now mated as you see, DR. WOLCOTT. Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy Did soon pluck down, and curb'd my liberty. Abroad too kind, at home'tis steadfast hate, SPENSER. And one eternal tempest of debate. YOUNG: Love of btme. From that day forth, in peace and joyous bliss, They lived together long without debate; Nor private jars, nor spite of enemies, Could shake the safe assurance of their state. SPENSER. M EDICINE.'Tis not amiss, e'er y'are giv'n o'er, He, in the first flower of my freshest age,, Betrothed me untotheonTo try one deep'rate med'cine more; Betrothed me unto the only heir And where your case can be no worse, Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage. SPENSER. The desp'ratest is the wisest course. BUTLER: Hudib-ras. Be advised for the best Unhappy, from whom still conceal'd does lie Ere thou thy daughter link in holy band ro Of herbs and roots the harmless luxury. Of wedlock to that new unknown guest. COWLEY. SPENSER. No chymist yet the elixir got, Strephon sigh'd so loud and strong, But glorifies his pregnant pot, He blew a settlement along; If by the way to him befall And bravely drove his rivals down, Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal. With coach-and-six, and house in town. DONNE. SWIFT. We seem ambitious God's whole work to undo; Now love is dwindled to intrigue, -With new diseases on ourselves we war, And marriage grown a money league. d marriage grown a money league.And with new physic, a worse engine far. SWIFT. DONNE. He mark'd the conjugal dispute; Nell roar'd incessant, Dick sat mute. The ladies sought around SWIFT. For virtuous herbs; which, gather'd from the ground, But happy they! the happiest of their kind! They squeezed the juice, and cooling ointment Whom gentle stars unite, and in one fate made. Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings )RYDEN. blend. THOMSON: Seasons. Physic can but mend our crazy state; Patch an old building, not a new create. Thrice happy is that humble pair, DRYDEN. Beneath the level of all care, Over whose heads those arrows fly Perhaps a fever (which the gods forefend) Of sad distrust and jealousy. May bring your youth to some untimely end. WALLER. DRYDEN. IMEDICIVNE. -MEDITA TiVON. $343 He intent on somewhat that may ease For when no healing art prevail'd, Unhealthy mortals, and with curious search When cordials and elixirs fail'd, Examines all the properties of herbs. On your pale cheek he dropp'd the show'r JOHN PHILIPS. Revived you like a dying flow'r. WALLER. Bright Helen mix'd a mirth-inspiring bowl, Temper'd with drugs of sov'reign use t' assuage The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage. MEDITATION. POPE. The mind contracts herself, and shrinketh in, 0, mickle is the powerful grace that lies And to herself she gladly doth retire. In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities. SIR J. DAVIES. SHAKSPEARE. Intent he seem'd, In such a night And pond'ring future things of wondrous Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs weight. That did renew old _Eson. DRYDEN. SHARSPEARE. Thought following thought, and step by step In this point on All his tricks founder; and he brings his physicordering desert wild, He enter'd now the bordering desert wild, After his patient's death. SHAKSPEARE. Af. SHARSPEARE. And, with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, I will not let him stir, His holy meditation thus pursued. Till I have used th' approved means I have, MILTON. With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers,'Tis haost true To make of him a formal man again. SHAIRSPEARE. That musing meditation most affects The pensive secrecy of desert cell. I bought an unction of a mountebank, MILTON. So mortal, that but dip a knife in it, He, with honest meditations fed, When it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare, Into himself descended. MILTON. Collected from all simples thatbhave virtue Under the moon, can save. I all the livelong day Consume in meditation deep, recluse Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, From human converse; nor at shut of eve For things that are not to be remedied. Enjoy repose. JOHN PHILIPS. SHAKSPEARE,. No more these scenes my meditation aid, Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive, Or lull to rest the visionary maid. It is applied to a deathful wound. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. He is divinely bent on meditation; No medicine in the world can do thee good; And in no worldly suits would he be moved, In thee there is not half an hour's life. To draw him from his holy exercise. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Vein-healing vervain, and head-purging dill, Them among Sound savory, and basil hearty hale. There sat a man of ripe and perfect age, SPENSER. Who did them meditate all his life long. He meant his corrosives to apply, SPENSER. And with strict diet tame his stubborn malady. SPENSER.'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heav'n, Not one foretells I shall recover; And how they might have borne more welcome But all agree to give me over. news. SWIFT. YOUNG: NzhZt Thoztghts. 344 MELANCHOL Y. MELA NCHO LY. I Should I not seek The clemency of some more temp'rate clime, From other care absolved, the busy mind To purge my gloom; and, by the sun refined, Finds in yourself a theme to pore upon: Bask in his beams, and bleach me in the wind'? It finds you miserable, or makes you so. DRYDEN. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: Art of Pireserving Health. Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad; Both are the reasonable soul run mad. Ah, what is mirth, but turbulence unholy, DRYDEN. When with the charm compared of heavenly melancholy? When the sun sets, shadows that show'd at noon BEAT'rIE: Minstrel. But small, appear most long and terrible: The spleen with sullen vapours clouds the brain, when we tink fate hovers o'er our heads, And inds the spirit in its heavy chain; Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds: And binds the spirit in its heavy chain; Howe'er the cause fantastic may appear, Owls, ravens, crickets, seem the watch of death; Howe'er the cause fantastic may appear, The effect is real, and the pain sincere. Nature's worst vermin scare her godlike sons: SIR R. BLACKMORE. Echoes, the very leavings of a voice, Grow babbling ghosts, and call us to our graves. If thou wilt think of moments gone, Each mole-hill thought swells to a huge Of joys as exquisite as brief, Olympus; Know, mem'ry, when she lingers on While we, fantastic dreamers, heave and puff Past pleasure, turns it all to grief. And sweat with our imagination's weight. SIR J. BOWRING: firom the Spanish. LEE: adZits. Melancholy For the air of youth Sits on me as a cloud along the sky, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood shall reign Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor A melancholy damp of cold and dry, yet To weigh thy spirits down, and (last) consume Descend in rain, and end; but spreads itself The balm of life.'Twixt heaven and earth, like envy between man MILTON. And man,-an everlasting mist. I feel my genial spirits droop, BYRON. My hopes all flat; nature -within me seems In all her functions weary of herself. Melancholy is a fearful gift: MILTON. What is it but the telescope of truth? Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy. Which strips the distance of its fantasies, MILTON. And brings life near in utter darkness, Making the cold reality too real. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed BYRON. From anguish of the mind and humours black, That mingle with thy fancy. When dinner has opprest one, MILTON. I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour Hail, divinest melancholy! Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four. Whose saintly visage is too bright BYRON. To hit the sense of human sight. MILTON. With eyes upraised, as one inspired, These pleasures, melancholy, give, Pale Melancholy sat retired, And I with thee will choose to live. And from her wild sequester'd seat, MILTON. In notes by distance made more sweet, Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive Ah, why th' ill-suiting pastime must I try? soul. To gloomy care my thoughts alone are free: COLLINS: Passions. Ill the gay sports with troubled hearts agree, POPE. This melancholy flatters, but unmans you, What is it else but penury of soul, Nay, half in heaven, except (what's mighty odd) A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind? A fit of vapours clouds this demi-god. DRYDEN. POPE. MZEANCHOLI Y: 345 All seems infected that th' infected spy, Through these sad shades, this chaos in my As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. soul, POPE. Some seeds of light at length began to roll; The rising motion of an infant ray Umbriel, a dusky melancholy sprite e a dsl telaco lit Shot glimm'ring through the cloud, and promAs ever sullied the fair face of light, Down to the central earth, his proper scene, ised day. PRIOR. Repairs to search the gloomy cave of spleen. POPE. Go —you may call it madness, folly,You shall not chase my gloom away; Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin; There's such a charm in melancholy, That single act gives half the world the spleen. I would not, if I could, be gay! POPE. ROGERS. But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, thee Black melancholy sits, and round her throws Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? A death-like silence, and a dread repose: Why dost thou bend thy eyes upon the earth, Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, And start so often when thou sitt'st alone? Shades every flower, and darkens every green, Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And giv'n thy treasures and my rights of thee And breathes a browner horror on the woods. To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? POPE: Eloisa. SHAKSPEARE. In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, And ever-musing melancholy reigns, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, What means this tumult in a vestal's veins? And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, POPE: Eloisa. Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? To ease the soul of one oppressive weight, SHAKSPEARE. This quits an empire, that embroils a state: The same adust complexion has imped This is in thee a nature but affected, The same adust complexion has impell'd A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung Charles to the convent, Philip to the field. A p From change of fortune. SHAKSPEARE. If, while this wearied flesh draws fleeting breath, Not satisfied with life, afraid of death, Noaisid f, a, O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; If haply be thy will that I should know O If haply be thy will that I should know And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose Glimpse of delight, or pause from anxious woe; Will be some danger. From now, from instant now, great Sire, dispel SHAKSPEARE. The clouds that press my soul. PRIOR. How now, my lord? why do you keep alone? Of sorriest fancies your companions make? Vexatious thought still found my flying mind,SHAKSPEARE. Nor bound by limits, nor to place confined, How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Haunted my nights, and terrified my days, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Stalk'd through my gardens, and pursued my SHArSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. ways; Nor shut from artful bow'r, nor lost in winding Give me a bowl of wine: maze. I have not that alacrity of spirit PRIOR. Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing folly, Lies all neglected, all forgot; He perhaps, And pensive, wav'ring, melancholy, Out of my weakness and my melancholy, Thou dread'st and hop'st thou know'st not As he is very potent with such spirits, what. Abuses me to damn me. PRIOR. SHAXKSPEARE. 346 MAEIANCHOL -MEMOR Y. My heavy son Let melancholy rule supreme, Private in his chamber pens himself. Choler preside, or blood, or phlegm, SHAKSPEARE. It makes no diff'rence in the case, In sooth, I know not why I am so sad; Nor is complexion honour's place. It wearies me; you say it wearies you: SWIFT. But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, Retiring full of meditation sad, What stuff'tis made of, whereof it is born, He mourns the weakness of these latter times. I am to learn. THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE. And leaves the semblance of a lover, fix'd Oh, hateful error, melancholy's child! In melancholy deep, with head declined, Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men And love-dejected eyes. The things that are not? THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE. How vain all outward effort to supply Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth; The soul with joy! The noontide sun is dark, Turn melancholy forth to funerals. And music discord, when the heart is low. SHAKSPEARE.YOUNG: BrotAers. We're not ourselves, When nature, being opprest, commands the mind To suffer with the body. MEMORY. SHAKSPEARE. Still must I cherish the dear sad remembrance, A trusty villain, very oft, At once to torture and to please my soul. When I am dull with care and melancholy, ADDISON. Lightens my humour with his merry jest. Of joys departed, Nor to return, how painful the remembrance! Who alone suffers, suffers most i' th' mind, BLAIR: Grave. Leaving free things and happy shows behind. SHAI(SPEARE. When time has past and seasons fled, Your hearts will feel like mine, Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, And aye the sang will maist delight Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick That minds ye o lang-syne. (Which else runs trickling up and down the MISS BLAMIRE: T-avelle's Rethirin. veins, Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, And fondly broods with miser care; A passion hateful to my purposes). Time but the impression deeper makes, SHAKSPEARE. As streams their channels deeper wear.' BuRNs. Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue But'moody and dull melancholy Oh! friends regretted, scenes forever dear, (Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair), Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear! And at her heels a huge infectious troop Drooping she bends o'er pensive Fancy's urn, Of pale distemperatures and foes to life. To trace the hours which never can return. SHAKSPEARE.BYRON. A man of years, yet fresh as mote appear, And slight withal may be the things which bring Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hue, Back on the heart the weight which it would fling That him full of melancholy did show. Aside forever: it may be a soundSPENSER. A tone of music-summer's eve-or springWhen as the day the heaven doth adorn, A flower-the wind-the ocean-which shall I wish that night the noyous day would end; wound: And when as night hath us of light forlorn, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are I wish that day would shortly reascend. darkly bound. SPENSER. BYRON: Cilde Haarolid. M EAf OR Y. 347 But in that instant o'er his soul Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind, Winters of memory seem'd to roll, Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind: And gather in that drop of time The nurse's legends are for truths received, A life of pain, an age of crime: And the man dreams but what the boy believed. O'er him who loves, or hates, or fears, DRYDEN. Such moments hold the grief of years. O memory! thou fond deceiver, Still unfortunate and vain, But ever and anon, of grief subdued To former joys recurring ever, There comes a token, like a serpent's sting, And turning all the past to pain: Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued. Thou, like the world, th' opprest oppressing, BYRON: Childe Haarold. Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe! Joy's recollection is no longer joy; And he who wants each other blessing But sorrow's memory is sorrow still! In thee must ever find a foe. BYRON: Marino Faliero. GOLDSMITH. While Memory watches o'er the sad review Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Of joys that faded like the morning dew. Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. CAMPBELL: Pleasures ofHope. CA EL la Hpe.I- GOLDSMITH: Deserted Village. What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! Ah, tell me not that memory But they have left an aching void Sheds gladness o'er the past: The world can never fill. What is recall'd by faded flowers, COWPER: Walking with God. Save that they do not last? O days remember'd well! remember'd all! Were it not better to forget, Than but remember andi regret? The bitter sweet, the honey and the gall; Than but remember and regret Those garden rambles in the silent night, Those trees so shady, and that moon so bright, That thickset alley by the arbour closed, WVe might have been,-these are but common That woodbine seat where we at last reposed; words, And then the hopes that came and then were And yet they make the sum of life's bewailing: gone, They are the echo of those finer chords Quick as the clouds beneath the moon past on. Whose music we deplore, when unavailing. CRABBE. We might have been! No joy like by-past joy appears; For what is gone we fret and pine: Life knoweth no like misery: the rest Were life spun out a thousand years, Are single sorrows; but in this are blended It could not match Langsyne! All sweet emotions that disturb the breast; DELTA. (D. M. MOIR.) The light that once was loveliest is ended. We might have been! Had memory been lost with innocence, We had not known the sentence nor th' offence; Henceforth, how much of the full heart must be'Twas his chief punishment to keep in store A sealed book, at whose contents we tremble The sad remembrance what he was before. A still voice mutters'mid our misery, DENHAM. The worst to bear, because it must dissemble, None grow so old We might have been! Not to remember where they hid their gold; L. E. LANDON. From age such art of memory we learn To forget nothing what is our concern: Ease to the body some, none to the mind Their interest no priest nor sorcerer From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Forgets, nor lawyer, nor philosopher; Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, No understanding memory can want But rush upon me thronging, and present Where wisdom studious industry doth plant. Times past, what once I was, and what I'm now. DENHAM. MILTON. 348 MEMORY Or many grateful altars I would rear, Those evening bells! those evening bells! Of grassy turf; and pile up every stone How many a tale their music tells! Of lustre from the brook; in memory Of youth, and home, and that sweet time Of monument to ages. When last I heard their soothing chime. MILTON. MOORE. Oft in the stilly night, There are moments of life that we never forget, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Which brighten, and brighten, as time steals Fond Memory brings the light away; Of other days around me; They give a new charm to the happiest lot, The smiles, the tears, And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest Of boyhood's years, day. The words of love then spoken; J. G. PERCIVAL. The eyes that shone, The eyes that shone, The last, scarce ripen'd into perfect man, Now dimm'd and gone, Now irmd angon, Saw helpless him from whom their life began: The cheerful hearts now broken! Mem'ry and forecast just returns engage; MOORE. That pointed back to youth, this on to age. Let fate do her worst, there are moments of joy, POPE. Bright dreams of the past; which she cannot 0 queen, farewell! and, still possest destroy; Of dear remembrance, blessing still and blest. Which come in the night-time of sorrow and POPE. care, care. The moments past, if thou art wise, retrieve And bring back the features that joy used to The moments past, if thou art wise, retrieve,gW~~~~~ear. ~With pleasant mem'ry of the bliss they gave; wear. MOORE. The present hours in present mirth employ, And bribe the future with the hopes of joy. When time, which steals our years away, PRIOR. Shall steal our pleasures too, Shall steal our pleasures too, I, waking, view'd with grief the rising sun, The memory of the past will stay, And fondly mourn'd the dear delusion gone. And half our joy renew. MOORE. PRIOR. No harsh reflection let remembrance raise; Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd! Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise. PRIOR. Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd: Hail, memory, hail! in thy exhaustless mine You may break, you may ruin the vase if you From age to age unnumber'd treasures shine! will, Thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. And place and time are subject to thy sway! MOORE. ROGERS: Pleasuires of JfMemzo;,. Lull'd in the countless challlbers of the brain, One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are link'd byreany a hidden chain, Its black shade alike o'er our joys and our woes, Awake but one, and lo, whatmyriads rise! To which life nothing darker or brighter can a t Each stamps its image as the other flies! ~~bring, ~~~~~~~ROGERS: Pleasurzes of AZemory. For which joy has no balm, and affliction no sting! When musing on companions gone, MOORE. We doubly feel ourselves alone. SIR W. SCOTT AM/armziozn. As letters some hand has invisibly traced, When held to the flame will steal out to the I cannot but remember such things were, sight, That were most precious to me. SHAKSPEARE. So, many a feeling that long seem'd effaced, The warmth of a meeting like this brings to Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, light! But still remember what the Lord hath done. MOORE. SHAKSPEARE. MEMOR Y.-MVER CY 349 Remember thee? Good Heav'n, whose darling attribute we find Yea, from the table of my memory Is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, Abhors the cruel. All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, DRYDEN. That youth and observation copied there; Mercy above did hourly plead And thy commandment all alone shall live For her resemblance here below; Within the book and volume of my brain, And mild forgiveness intercede Unmix'd with baser matter. To stop the coming blow. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. By our remembrances of days foregone, This'tis to have virtue out of season: Such were our faults; O! then we thought them Mercy is good, but kings mistake its timing. not. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, These few precepts in thy memory Wrapp'd in his crimes, against the storm preSee thou character. pared; SHAKSPEARE. But when the milder beams of mercy play, Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away. And left thee but a very prey to time; DRYDEN. Having no more but thought of what thou wert, Here some benighted angel, in his way, To torture thee the more, being what thou art. Might ease his wings; and, seeing heav'n SHAKSPEARE. appear I grieve myself In its best work of mercy, think it there. To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her DRYDEN. Whom now thou tir'st on, how thy memory He brings them back, ~Will then be pangd'l by me. SHAI(SPEA Rememb'ring mercy and his covenant sworn. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. The busy head with mimic art runs o'er The scenes and actions of the day before. Mercy will sit between, Throned in celestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, steering. Tears from the depth of some divine despair, MILTON. Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, Teach me to feel another's woe, In looking on the happy autumn fields To hide the fault I see; And thinking of the days that are no more. That mercy I to others show, TENNYSON: Pr-incess. That mercy show to me. In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts POPE: Unziversal P rayer. Bring sad thoughts to the mind. T When certain to o'ercome, inclined to save, WORDSWORTH. Tardy to vengeance, and with mercy brave. PRIOR. MERCY. For mercy's sake restrain thy hand, If in the dreadful hour of death, Blot not thy innocence with guiltless blood. If in the dreadful hour of death, RowvE. If at the latest gasp of breath, When the cold damp bedews your brow, Wilt thou not to a broken heart dispense You hope for mercy, show it now. The balm of mercy, and expunge the offence? ADDISON. SANDYS. O think! think upward on the thrones above: Merciful heav'n! Disdain not mercy, since they mercy love; Thou rather with thy sharp and sulph'rous bolt If mercy were not mingled with their power, Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak This wretched world could not subsist an hour. Than the soft myrtle. SIR W. DAVENANT: Siege of Rhodes. SHAKSPEARE. 350 o MVER CY.-MERI-. ME RRIVIENT. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; Why are you so fierce and cruel? It droppeth. as the gentle dew from heaven Is it because your eyes have power to kill? Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; Then know that mercy is the Mighty's jewel, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: And greater glory think to save than pill.'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes. SPENSER. The throned monarch better than his crown. Mercy has, could Mercy's self be seen, SHAKSPEARE. No sweeter look than this propitious queen. No ceremony that to great ones'longs, WALLER. Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace MERIT. As mercy does. AsSHAKSPEARE. mThy father's merit sets thee up to view, SHAKSPEARE. And shows thee in the fairest point of light, His sceptre shows the force of temporal pow'r, To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous. The attribute to awe and majesty: ADDISON. But mercy is above this scepter'd sway; Just trial ere I merit It is enthroned in the hearts of kings; My exaltation without change or end. It iaatittGdMy exaltation without change or end. It is an attribute to God himself MITON. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Some she disgraced, and some with honours You are more clement than vile men, crown'd; Who of their broken debtors take a third, Unlike successes equal merits found. Letting them thrive again on the abatement. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Rising merit will buoy up at last. POPE. Beyond the infinite and boundless reach He can your merit selfishly approve, Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, And show the sense of it without the love. Art thou damn'd, Hubert. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Here only merit constant pay receives;'Tis necessary he should die: Is blest in what it takes, and what it gives. Nothing imboldens sin so much as mercy. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. In comely rank call ev'ry merit forth; Whereto serves mercy Imprint on ev'ry act its standard worth. But to confront the visage of offence? PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. We shall use them As we shall find their merits and our safety When vice makes mercy, mercy's soextended, That, for the fault's love, is the offender friended. May equally determine SHSPAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Pent to linger No merit their aversion can remove, But with a grain a day, I would not buy Nor ill requital can efface their love. Their mercy at the price of one fair word. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. Open the gate of mercy, gracious God! MERRIMENT. My soul flies through these wounds to seek thee. Methought it was the sound SHAKSPEARE. Of riot and ill-managed merriment.. MILTON. My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs, My mercy dried their water-flowing tears.'Tis good to be merry and wise, SHAKSPEARIE.'Tis good to be honest and true,'Tis good to be off wi' the auld love Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. Before one is on wi' the new. SHAKSPEARE. Old Scotclh Song. MIVND. 351 Against ill chances men are ever merry; While no baseness in this breast I find, But heaviness foreruns the good event. I have not lost the birthright of my mind. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Nor can the grovelling mind;, MI ND. I In the dark dungeon of the limbs confined, Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind. The mind doth shape itself to its own wants, DRYDEN. And can bear all things. JOANNA BAILLIE: Rayner-. If by traduction came thy mind, Our wonder is the less to find These outguards of the mind are sent abroad, A soul so charming froma stock so good And still patrolling beat the neighb'ring road, Thy father was transfused into thy blood. Or to the parts remote obedient fly, DRYDEN. Keep posts advanced, and on the frontier lie. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Who cannot rest till he good fellows find, He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, GEORGE HERBERT. Preys on herself, and is destroy'd by thought; Constant attention wears the active mind, The mind and spirit remains Blots out her pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind. Invincible, and vigour soon returns. CHURCHILL. MILTON. In judgment of her substance thus they vary, The mind is its own place, and in itself, Anid vary thus in judgment of her seat; Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. For some her chair up to the brain do carry, MILTON. Some sink it down into the stomach's heat. My mind to me a kingdom is; SIR J. DAVIES. Such perfect joy therein I find Perhaps something repugnant to her kind, As far exceeds all earthly bliss By strong antipathy, the soul may kill; That God and nature hath assign'd. But what can be contrary to the mind, PERCY: fromi Byrd's Psalzles, etc. Which holds all contraries in concord still? Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling SIR J. DAVIES. train; For they that most and greatest things embrace, Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain; Enlarge thereby their minds' capacity, These, mix'd with art, and to due bounds conAs streams enlarged, enlarge the channel's space. fined, SIR J. DAVIES. Make and maintain the balance of the mind. POPE. Who can in memory, or wit, or will, Or air, or fire, or earth, or water, find? What is this little, agile, pervious fire, What alchymist can draw, with all his skill, This flutt'ring motion which we call the mind The quintessence of these out of the mind? PRIOR. SIR J. DAVIES. The mind, say they, will you sustain To hold her station in the brain? Think of her worth, and think that God did omeanry t s You grant, at least, she is extended: Ergo the whole dispute is ended. This worthy mind should worthy things em- PRIOR. PRIOR. brace: Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts unclean, At distance, through an artful glass, Nor her dishonour with thy passion base. To the mind's eye things well appear; SIR J. DAVIES. They lose their forms, and make a mass Confused and black, if brought too near. Be not always on affairs intent, PRIOR. But let thy thoughts be easy and unbent; When our minds' eyes are disengaged and free, He, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, They clearer, farther, and distinctly see. Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread. SIR J. DENHAM. SHAKSPEARE. 352 MIR TH. -MISER Y. -MISTOR TUIVE. When the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, Where lives the man that has not tried The organs, though defunct and dead before, How mirth can into folly glide, Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move And folly into sin? With casted slough and fresh legerity. SIR'W. SCOTT: Bridal of TD'iermain. SHAKSPEARE, Frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Lively vigour rested in his mind, Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens And recompensed him with a better score; life! Weak body well is changed for mind's redoubled SHAKSPEARE. force. Where is our usual manager of mirth? SPENSER. What revels are in hand? Is there no play To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? MIRTH. SHAKSPEARE. In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, A merrier man, Thou'rt such a testy, touchy, pleasant fellow; Within the limit of becoming miith, Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about I never spent an hour's talk withal. thee, SHAKSPEARE. There is no living with thee, nor without thee.'Tis ever common ADDISON. That men are merriest when they are from home Mirth makes them not mad, SHAKSPEARE. Nor sobriety sad. Nor sobrietSIR. DENHAM. Matter of mirth enough, though, were there none, But come, thou goddess fair and free, She could devise, and thousand ways invent In heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne, To feed her foolish humour, and vain jolliment. And by men heart-easing mirth. SPENSER. MILTON. Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her, and live with thee, MISERY. In unreproved pleasures free. MILTON. The gods from heav'n survey the fatal strife, And mourn the miseries of human life. Haste thee, my nymph, and bring with thee DRYDEN. Jest and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, By a sad train of miseries alone Nods and becks and wreathed smiles. Distinguish'd long, and second now to none. MILTON. POPE. Th' unwieldy elephant, Fortune thus'gan say, Misery and misfortune To make them mirth used all his might, and is all one, wreathed. And of misfortune fortune hath only the gift. His lithe proboscis. MILTON. SIR P. SIDNEY. Far from all resort of mirth, This iron world Save the cricket on the hearth. MILTON. Brings down the stoutest hearts to lowest state: For misery doth bravest minds abate. The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears, For misery doth bravest minds abate. SPENSER: -jA. fitbber d's 5Qke. Less pleasing far than virtue's very tears. POPE. Hibernia's harp, device of her command, And parent of her mirth, shall there be seen. MISFORTUNE. PRIOR. The rarer thy example stands, But then her face, By how much from the top of wondrous glory, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, Strongest of mortal men, The overflowings of an innocent heart. To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'nROGERS: Zaly. MILTON: Saimson Agonistes. MODERA TION.-MODES TY.-MONE Y-MO ON. 353 Where'er my name I find, Thus radiant from the circling crowd he broke, Some dire misfortune follows close behind. And thus with manly modesty he spoke. POPE. DRYDEN. He, careless now of int'rest, fame, or fate, Such an art, Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great, That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, Or, deeming meanest what we greatest call, Calls virtue hypocrite. Beholds thee glorious only in thy fall. POPE. I never in my life Must he, whose altars on the Phrygian shore, Did hear a challenge urged more modestly. With frequent rites, and pure, avow'd thy pow'r, SHAIISPEARE. Be doom'd the worst of human ills to prove, Unbless'd, abandon'd to the wrath of Jove? MONEY. POPE: Odyssey. Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone, I shall fall Be careful still of the main chance, my son; Like a bright exhalation in the evening, Put out the principal in trusty hands; And no man see me more. SHASPEARE.And no man see me more. Live on the use, and never dip thy lands. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Misfortune waits advantage to entrap If money go before, all ways do lie open. The man most wary, in her whelming lap. SPENSER.-~~ ~SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. To a mind resolved and wise, Money, the life-blood of the nation, There is an impotence in misery, Corrupts and stagnates in the veins, Which makes me smile when all its shafts are Unless a proper circulation in me. Its motion and its heat maintains. YOUNG: Revenge. SWIFT. MODERATION. MOON. Take this at least, this last advice, my son, Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on: Waning moons their settled periods keep, The coursers of themselves will run too fast; To swell the billows, and ferment the deep. Your art must be to moderate their haste. ADDISON. ADIDISON. Those who assert the lunar orb presides If any ask me what would satisfy, O'er humid bodies, and the ocean guides; To make life easy, thus I would reply: Whose waves obsequious ebb or swelling run As much as keeps out hunger, thirst, and cold. With the declining or encreasing moon; DRYDEN. With reason seem her empire to maintain Equally inured As mistress of the rivers and the main. By moderation either state to bear, SIR R. BLACKMORE. Prosperous or adverse. MILTON. The moon put on her veil of light, Give me, I cried, —enough for me,GvM e, I,a cined,- denough formeMysterious veil, of brightness made, My bread and independency; That's both her lustre and her shade. So bought an annual rent or two, BUTLER: fludibras. And lived just as you see I do. POPE. The queen of night, whose large command Rules all the sea, and half the land, MODESTY. And over moist and crazy brains, On their own merits modest men are dumb. In high spring tide, at midnight reigns, G. COLMAN, the Younger. Was now declining to the west, A modest blush she wears, not form'd by art; To go to bed and take her rest. BUTLER: fludibras. Free from deceit his face, and full as free his heart. Ye moon and stars bear witness to the truth! DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 23 354 MOON. That by certain signs we may presage Now glow'd the firmament Of heats and rains and winds' impetuous rage, With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led The sovereign of the heav'ns has set on high The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, The moon, to mark the changes of the sky. Rising in clouded majesty, at length, DRYDEN. Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. A glimpse of moonshine streak'd with red; MILTON. A shuffled, sullen, and uncertain light, That dances through the clouds, and shuts again. What if that light DRYDEN. To the terrestrial moon be as a star, Enlight'ning her by day, as she by night, When the weary king gave place to night, This earth reciprocal, if land be there, His beams he to his royal brother lent, Fields and inhabitants? And so shone still in his reflective light. MILTON. DRYDEN. The moon in levell'd west was set. To sicken waning moons too near the sun, MILTON. And blunt their crescents on the edge of day. DRYDEN. Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, And moonstruck madness. Deep in a cavern dwells the drowsy god, MILTON.'Whose gloomy mansion nor the rising sun;Nor setting visits, nor the lightsome moon. His pond'rous shield, DRYDEN. Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference'The moon was up, and shot a gleamy light; Hung on his shoulders like the moon. RHe saw a quire of ladies in a round, MILTON.'That featly footing seem'd to skim the ground. DRYDEN. Missing thee I walk unseen On the dry, smooth-shaven green, From land a gentle breeze arose by night, To behold the wandering moon Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, iding near her highest noon MILTON. And the sea trembled with her silver light. DRYDEN. On such a blessed night as this, I often think if friends were near Cynthia, fair regent of the night, How we should feel, and gaze with bliss O may thy silver lamp from heav'n's high bow'r s Upon the moonlight scenery here! Direct my footsteps in the midnight hour. MOORE. MOORE. GAY. The moon'! she is the source of sighs, Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces lie;'The very face to make us sad; The moon, serene in glory, mounts the sky. If but to think in other times POPE. rThe same rcalm quiet look she had. Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere: TH'OMIAS HOOD. Since all things lost on earth are treasured The moon, whose orb there.'Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views POPE. At evening from the top of Fesole,'Or in YValclarno, to ~descry new lands, No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, iversor ountains, in her spotty globe. Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her silver horn. Rivers, r mountas, i her spotty globe.POPE. MILTON.'The moon her monthly round Behold the place, where if a poet -Still ending,'still renewing through mid heav'n, Shined in description, he might show it;'With borrow'd light her countenance triform Tell how the moonbeam trembling falls, llence lls,, ind empties, to enlighten th' earth. And tips Nwith silver all the walls. MILTON. POPE. MO ONV. -MORNIVVG. 355 Why does he wake the correspondent moon, As when a sort of wolves infest the night And fill her willing lamp with liquid light, With their wild howlings at fair Cynthia's light. Commanding her with delegated pow'rs WALLER. To beautify the world, and bless the night? PRIOR. MORNING. Hast thou appointed when the moon should rise, The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs, And with her purple light adorn the skies? And heavily in clouds brings on the day. Scored out the bounded sun's obliquer ways, ADDISON. That he on all might spread his equal rays? SANDYS. O'er yonder eastern hill the twilight pale The moon, the governess of floods, Walks forth from darkness; and the god of day, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, With bright Astr-ea seated by his side, That rheumatic diseases do abound: Waits yet to leave the ocean. AKENSIDE. And, through this distemperature, we see The seasons alter. The rosy-finger'd morn did there disclose SHAKSPEARE. Her beauty, ruddy as a blushing bride, O swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, Gilding the marigold, painting the rose; That monthly changes in her circled orb, With Indian chrysolites her cheeks were dyed. Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ROBERT BARON. SHAKSPEARE. But who the melodies of morn can tell? I am weary of this moon: would he would The wild brook babbling down the mountain's change. side SHAK.SPEARE. The lowing herd; the sheepfold's simple bell; Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to The pipe of early shepherd, dim descried shine, In the lone valley, echoing far and wide; Those clouds removed, upon our wat'ry eyne. The clamorous horn along the cliffs above; SHAKSPEARE. The hollow murmur of the ocean tide; The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, And the full choir that wakes the universal With feigning voice, verses of feigning love. And the f SHAKSPEARE. grove. BEATTIE: hnzstrel. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! The diamond is by mighty monarchs worn, Here will We sit, and let the sounds of music Fair as the star that ushers in the morn. Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, SIR R. BLACKMORE. Become the touches of sweet harmony. SHAKSPEARE. Soon as Aurora from the blushing skies What, if within the moon's fair shining sphere, Bids the great ruler of the day to rise, What if in every other star unseen, No longer balmy sleep my limbs detains; Of other worlds he happily should hear? I hate its bondage and detest its chains. SPENSER. EDMUND BURKE, act. 16. This is fair Diana's case; The morn is up again, the dewy morn, For all astrologers maintain Forh allht asbitrologes m fai, With breath all incense, and with cheek all Each night a bit drops off her face, bloom When mortals say she's in her wane. Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, SWIFT. And living as if earth contain'd no tomb, Whence, glaring oft with many a broaden'd orb, And glowing into day. He frights the nations. BYRON: CZilfhe HarO;-d. THOMSON. Night wanes-the vapours round the mountains The silver empress of the night, curl'd O'erclouded, glimmers in a fainter light. Melt into morn, and light awakes the world. TICKELL. BYRON: ZLarz.: 356 MAORNING. But mighty nature bounds as from her birth; I've seen the morning's lovely ray The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth; Hover o'er the new-born day Flowers in the valley, splendouri ~ the beam, With rosy wings so richly bright' Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream. As if he scorn'd to think of night; BYRON: La-a. When a ruddy storm, whose scowl There shall be love, when genial morn appears, Made heaven's radiant face look foul, Thee shall.Call'd for an untimely night Like pensive beauty smiling in her tears, To watch the brightening roses of the sky, To blot the newly-blossom'd light. And muse on nature with a poet's eye! CRASHAW. CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Hope. Peace, good reader, do not weep; Soon as the white and red mix'd finger'd dame Peace: the lovers are asleep; Had gilt the mountains with her saffron flame. Let them sleep, let them sleep on, CHAPMAN. Till this stormy night be gone, And the eternal morrow dawn; The morning, on her throne of gold, the Then the curtains will be drawn, Survey'd the vast world, by whose orient light And they waken with the light The nymph adorn'd me with attires as bright. Whose day shall never sleep in night. CHAPMAN. CRASHAW. The isle Earea, where the palace stands Of the early riser, with the rosy hands, Darkness we see emerges into light, Active Aurora; where she loves to dance. And shining suns descend to sable night: CHAPMAN. Ev'n heaven itself receives another dye, When wearied animals in slumbers lie Yet hath the morning sprinkled through the When wearied animals in slumbers lie clouds Of midnight ease; another, when the gray But half her tincture; and the sail of night Of morn preludes the splendour of the day. Sticks still upon the bosom of the air. DRYDEN. CHAPMAN. Aurora had but newly chased the night, Whistling winds like organs play'd, And purpled o'er the sky with blushing light. Until their voluntaries made DRYDEN. The waken'd earth in odours rise, The wen erin r, The moon grows sickly at the sight of day, To be her morning sacrifice. JOHN CLEAVELAND. And early cocks have summon'd me away. DRYDEN. This to rich Ophir's rising morn is known, And stretch'd out far to the burnt swarthy zone. We will be with you ere the crowing cock COWLEY. Salutes the light, and struts before his feather'd'Tis morning, and the sun with ruddy orb flock. Ascending fires th' horizon. DRYDEN. COWPER: Task. Now when the rosy morn began to rise, Fly, fly, profane fogs! far hence fly away; And waved her saffron streamer through the Taint not the pure streams of the springing day skies. With your dull influence; it is for you. DRYDEN. To sit and scowl upon night's heavy brow. CRASHAW.'Twas ebbing darkness, past the mid of night, And Phosphor, on the confines of the light, My wakeful lay shall knock, 9 At th' oriental gates, and duly mock Promised the sun, ere day began to spring; The early lark's shrill orisons, to be The tuneful lark already stretch'd her wing, An anthem at the day's nativity. An anthem at the day's nativity. And, flick'ring on her nest, made short essays to CRASHAW. sing. DRYDEN. And through the night of error and dark doubt Discern the dawn of truth's eternal ray, Scarce the dawning day began to spring, As when the rosy morn buds into day. As, at a signal giv'n, the street with clamours ring. CRASHAW. DRYDEN. MORNIVNG. 357 The morning lark, the messenger of day, Soon the gray-eyed morning streaks the skies, Saluted in her song the morning gray; And in the doubtful day the woodcock flies. And soon the sun arose with beams so bright GAY. That all th' horizon laugh'd to see the joyous O'er yonder ill does scant the dawn appear; DRYDENsight. Then why does Cuddy leave his cot so rear? DRYDEN. GAY. Wilen Aurora leaves our northern sphere, Soon as Aurora drives away the night, She lights the downward heaven, and rises there. And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, DRYDEN. The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, For what the day devours, the nightly dew Summons the dogs, and-greets the dappled morn. Shall to the morn in pearly drops renew. GAY: Rural Sports. DRYDEN. The waking dawn, I watch'd the early glories of her eyes, When night-fallen dews, by day's warm courtAs men for daybreak watch the eastern skies. ship won, DRYDEN. From reeking roses climb'd to kiss the sun; Nature, new-blossom'd, shed her colours round, At sunset to their ship they make return, And snore secure on decks till rosy morn. The dew-bent primrose kiss'd the breeze-swept And snore secure on decks till rosy morn. DRYDEN. ground. AARON HILL. When the night and winter disappear, Stay! the cheerful chanticleer The purple morning, rising with the year, Tells you that the time is near. Salutes the spring. BEN JONSON. DRYDEN. It is, methinks, a morning full of fate! Thou heav'n's alternate beauty can display, It riseth slowly, as her sullen car The blush of morning and the milky-way. Had all the weights of sleep and death hung DRYDEN. at it! BEN JONSON: Catiline. And straight with inborn vigour, on the wing, Like mountain larks, to the new morning sing. See! the dapple gray coursers of the morn DRYDEN. Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs, And chase it through the sky.'Tis sweet the blushing morn to view, MARSTON: AntoZio and Melida. And plains adorn'd with pearly dew. DRYDEN. Now morn her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl. Now morn with rosy light had streak'd the sky; MILTON. Up rose the sun, and up rose Emily; Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, Address'd her early steps to Cynthia's fane. With charm of earliest bird. DRYDEN.MITON. MILTON. The purple morning left her crimson bed, Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning fair And donn'd her robes of pure vermilion hue. Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray, FAIRFAX. Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the Down from her eyes welled the pearles round winds. Upon the bright enamel of her face; MILTON. Such honey-drops on springing flowers are From before her vanish'd night, found, Shot through with orient beams. When Phcebus holds the crimson morn in MILTON. chase. FAIRFAX. Thus, night, oft see me in thy pale career, Till civil-suited morn appear; Now honey-dews embalm the fragrant morn, Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont And the fair oak with luscious sweets adorn. With the Attic boy to hunt. GARTH. MILTON. 358 MORNVING. The birds, As when a scout, Who all things now behold more fresh and Through dark and desert ways with peril gone green, All night, at last, by break of cheerful dawn, After a night of storm so ruinous,: Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill. Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray, MILTON. To gratulate the sweet return of morn. To gratulate the sweet return of morn. Thus wore out night; and now the herald lark MILTON. Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring, to descry For see, the morn, The morn's approach, and greet' her with his Unconcern'd with our unrest, begins song. Her rosy progress smiling. MILTON. MILTON. Now while the heav'n, by the sun's team untrod, Light Hath took no print of the approaching light, Shoots far into the bosom of dim night And all the spangled host keep watch. A glimmering dawn. MILTON. MILTON. The breath of heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and When as sacred light began to dawn sweet, In Eden on the humid flow'rs, that breathed With dayspring born, here leave me to respire. Their morning incense, came the human pair. MILTON. MILTON. Morning light Not alone, while thou More orient in yon western cloud, that draws Visit'st my slumbers nightly; or when morn O'er the blue firmament a radiant white. Purples the east. MILTON. MILTON. Now went forth the morn, To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east, Such as in highest heav'n, array'd in gold With first approach of light we must be risen, Empyreal. And at our pleasant labour, to reform MILTON. Yon flow'ry arbours. MILTON. Then first adorn'd MILTON. With their bright luminaries, that set and rose, So all ere dayspring, under conscious night, Glad ev'ning and glad morn crown'd the fourth Secret they finish'd, and in order set. day. MILTON. MILTON. Evening now approach'd When fair morn orient in heav'n appear'd. (For we have also our evening and our morn; MILTON. We ours for change delectable, not need). Thus sung the uncouth swain to th' oaks and MILTON. rills, While the still morn went out with sandals gray. Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling MILTON. morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere The lark begins his flight While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. From his watch-tower in the skies, MILTON. Till the dappled dawn doth rise. MILTON. Early, ere the odorous breath of morn If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tasseld horn Travelling east; and with her part averse Shakes the high thicket, haste I. all about. From the sun's beam, meet night, her other part MILTON. Still luminous by his ray. SrMILTON. While the cock with lively dill Scatters the rear of darkness thin; Oft listening how the hounds and horn And to the stack, or the barn-door, Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn. Stoutly struts his dames before. MILTON. MILTON. M~ORiNING(. 359 Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Now let us leave this earth, and lift our eye Comes dancing from the east, and leads with To the large convex of yon azure sky; her Behold it like an ample curtain spread, The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws Now streak'd and glowing with the morning red; The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Anon at noon in flaming yellow bright, MILTON. And choosing sable for the peaceful night. PRIOR. But now the clouds in airy tumults fly; The sun emerging opes the azure sky; Day glimmer'd in the east, and the white moon A fresher green the smiling leaves display, Hung like a vapour in the cloudless sky. And, glittering as they tremble, cheer the day. ROGERS: Italy. PARNELL: Hedrzlt. See! the night wears away, and cheerful morn, At length the world, renew'd by calm repose, All sweet and fresh, spreads from the rosy east; Was strong for toil; the dappled morn arose. Fair nature seems revived, and e'en my heart PARNELL: H1ermit. Sits light and jocund at the day's return. The purple morning, rising with the year, ROWE: Royal Consort. Salutes the spring, as her celestial eyes The rich dale that eastward lay Adorn the world, and brightens up the skies. Waited the waening touch of day Waited the waakening touch of day, POPE. To give its woods and cultured plain, All bright Phcebus views in early morn, And towers and spires, to light again. Or. when his evening beams the west adorn. SIR W. SCOTT: Rokeby. POPE. For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, Safely I slept, till brightly dawning shone And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne. At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and POPE.` I there, To the limpid stream direct thy way, Troop home to churchyards. When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, Uprose the virgin with the morning light, And'gins to pale his ineffectual fire. Obedient to the vision of the night. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. It was the lark, the herald of the morn. When from dewy shade emerging bright SHAKSPEARE. Aurora streaks the day with orient light, Let each deplore his dead. The day begins to break, and night is fled; POPE. Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. All the night they stem the liquid way, And end the voyage with the morning ray. Look, love, what envious streaks POPE. Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Now Aurora, daughter of the dawn, Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn. Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. When rosy morning glimmer'd o'er the dales. See how the morning opes her golden gates, POPE. And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! On morning wings how active springs the mind! How well resembles it the prime of youth, How easy every labour it pursues, Trimm'd like a yonker, prancing to his love! How coming to the poet ev'ry muse! SHAKSPEARE. POPE: Hor'ace. But soft! what light through yonder window Yet are able only to survey breaks? Dawnings of beams, and promises of day. It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 360 MORNING. I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye: The early village cock'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. Hath twice done salutation to the morn. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. An hour before the worshipp'd sun This morning, like the spirit of a youth Peer'd through the golden window of the east, That means to be of note, begins betimes. A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Making such difference'twixt wake and sleep, Phoebe doth behold As is the diff'rence betwixt day and night, Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, The hour before the heavenly harness'd team Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass. Begins his golden progress in the east. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle The golden sun salutes the morn, day, And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Gallops the zodiac in his glist'ring coach. Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. It is not for your health thus to commit Phcebus' steeds are foulnder'd, Your weak condition to the raw, cold morning. Or night kept chain'd below. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The silent hours steal on, The wreath of radiant fire And flaky darkness breaks within the east. On flickering Phoebus' front. SHAKSPEARE.SHAKSPEARE. Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, This battle fares like to the morning's war, Anld Phmobus'gins arise, When dying clouds contend with growing light. His steeds to water at those springs SHAKSPEARE. On chaliced flowers that lies. So soon as the all-cheering sun SHAKSPEARE. Should in the farthest east begin to draw But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, The shady curtain from Aurora's bed. Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning Yon gray lines, night, That fret the clouds, are messengers of day. Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of SHAKSPEARE. light; Temperate as the morn. And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels SHAKSPEARE. From forth day's path, and Titan's fiery wheels. SHAKSPEARE. Bid the cheek be ready with a blush, Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not The youthful Phoebus. The youthful PhebAKSPEARE. To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have But even then the morning cock crew loud. smote SHAKSPEARE. The night of dew that on my cheeks downHark! hark! I hear flows. The strain of strutting chanticleer. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. As the morning steals upon the night, The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, Melting the darkness; so the rising senses Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Awake the god of day. Their clearer reason. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. MORNING. 361 Day had awakened all things that be, Morn, in the white wake of the morning star, The lark and the thrush and the swallow free; Came furrowing all the orient into gold. And the milk-maid's song, and the mower's TENNYSON. scythe, Observant of approaching day, And the matin-bell, and the mountain bee. The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dews, SHELLEY. At first faint gleaming in the dappled east; When merry May first early calls the morn, Till far o'er ether spreads the wid'ning glow, With merry maids a-maying they do go. And from before the lustre of her face, SIR P. SIDNEY. While break the clouds away, with quicken'd step Early, before the morn with crimson ray Brown night retires: young day pours in apace, The windows of bright heaven open'd had, And opens all a lawny prospect wide. Through which into the world the dawning day THOMSON. Might look, that maketh every creature glad, Uprose Sir Guyon. SESk Morn, late rising o'er the drooping world, Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Bright as doth the morning star appear, THOMSON. Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, Ev'ry muse To tell the dawning day is drawing near. > - SPENSER. And ev'ry blooming pleasure, wait without To bless the wildly devious morning walk. Scarcely had Phcebus in the glowing east THOMSON. Yet harnessed his fiery-footed team, Ne rear'd above the earth his flaming crest, When the last deadly smoke aloft did steam. On Indus' smiling banks the rosy shower. SPENSER. SPENSER. THOMSON. And cheerful chanticleer, with his note shrill, The lengthen'd night elapsed, the morning Had warned once that Phcebus' fiery car shines In haste was climnibing up the eastern hill. Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright, SPENSER. Unfolding fair the last autumnal day. At last the golden oriental gate And now the morning sun dispels the fog; Of greatest heaven'gan to open fair; The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam; And Phcebus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate, And hung on every spray, on every blade Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair, Of grass, the myriad dexv-drops twinkle round. And hurl'd his glist'ring beams through gloomy THOMSON: Seasons. air. SPENSER. The gray morn With princely pace, Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch As fair Aurora in her purple pall Exterminate by love. Out of the east the dawning day doth call; THOMSON: Spring. So forth she comes. SPENSER. Hail to the joyous day! with purple clouds The morrow fair with purple beams The whole horizon glows. The breezy spring Dispersed the shadows of the misty night. Stands loosely floating on the mountain-top, SPENSER. And deals her sweets around. The sun, too, Make haste, sweet love, whilst it is prime, seems, For none can call again the passed time. As conscious of my joy, with brighter beams SPENSER. To gild the happy world. At last fair Hesperus in his highest sky Had spent his lamp, and brought forth dawning Rest, sweet as dew-drops on the flow'ry lawns light. SPENSER. When the sky opens, and the morning dawns! TICKELL. When the rosy-finger'd morning fair, Weary of aged Tithon's saffron bed, Middling his head, and prone to earth his view, Had spread her purple robe through dewy air. With ears and chest that dash the morning dew. SPENSER. TICKELL. 36-2 MORIZNG. — MO THER. Like bright Aurora, whose refulgent ray When yet was ever found a mother Foretells the fervour of ensuing day, Who'd give her booby for another? And warns the shepherd with his flocks retreat GAY: Fables. To leafy shadows, from the threaten'd heat. And what still more his stagg'ring virtue tried, His mother, tut'ress of that virtue, died. Fairest blossom! do not slight WALTER HARTE. That age which you may know so soon; The rosy morn resigns her light There is none And milder glory to the moon. In all this cold and hollow world, no fount WALLER. Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within Lo, on the eastern summit, clad in gray, A mother's heart! Morn, like a horseman girt for travel, comes, MRS. HEMANS: Siege of Valencia. And from his tower of mist A mother's love-how sweet the name! Night's watchman hurries down. What is a mother's love? H. K. WHITE. A noble, pure, and tender flame, -------— ~-~00 —' — " Enkindled from above, M OTHER. To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold,My mother!-manhood's anxious brow This is a mother's love. And sterner cares have long been mine; JAMES MONTGOMERY. Yet turn I to thee fondly now, As when upon thy bosom's shrine Sweet is the image of the brooding dove! My infant griefs were gently hush'd to rest, Holy as heaven a mother's tender love! And thy low whisper'dc prayers my sl~umlher The love of many prayers, and many tears, bless'd. GEORGE W. BETHUNE Which changes not with dim, declining years; The only love which on this teeming earth I miss thee, my mother, when young health has Asks no return for passions wayward birth. fled, MRS. NORTON: D}ream. And I sink in the languor of pain; Where, where is the arm that once pillow'd my Ah! bless'd are they for whom,'mid all their head, pains, And the ear that once heard me complain? That faithful and unalter'd love remains;, Who life wreck'd round them-hunted from Other hands may support me, gentle accents their restmay fall,And by all else forsaken or distress'd, For the fond and the true are still mine: I've a blessing for each; I am grateful to all, Claim in one heart their sanctuary and shrine, But wvhose care can be soothing as thine? I, my mother, claim'd my place in thine! ELIZA COOK. IMRS. NORTON. Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd Me let the tender office long engage With me but roughly since I heard thee last. To rock the cradle of reposing age, Those lips are thine-thy own sweet smiles I see, With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, The same that oft in childhood solaced me. Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of. COWPER: death; On the Receipt of his Mother's Pictdure. Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep awhile one parent from the sky. Begin, auspicious boy, to cast about POPE: Epistle to Dr. ArbutAzosoZ. Thy infant eyes, and with a smile thy mother single out. DRYDEN. These both put by, a poor petitioner, I have not wept this forty years; but now A care-crazed mother to a many sons. My mother comes afresh into my eyes. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. I had not so much of man in me, His loving mother left him to my care,- But all my mother came into mine eyes, Fine child, as like his dad as he could stare! And gave me up to tears. GAY. SHAKSPEARE. MO URNINRVG. 363 Absent many a year Ev'n he, whose soul now melts in mournful lays; Far o'er the sea, his sweetest dreams were still Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays. Of that dear voice that soothed his infancy. POPE. SOUTHEY. Friends in sable weeds appear, Happy he Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year, Vith such a mother! faith in womankind And bear about the mockery of woe And bear about the mockery of woe Beats with his blood, and trust in all things To midnight dances and the puppet show. - high POPE. Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay. Why do you keep alone,, TENNYSON: Pr:incess. Of sorriest fancies your companions making, Using those thoughts which should indeed have died MOURNING. ): With them they think on? SHAKSPEARE. Away! we know that tears are vain, That death ne'er heeds nor hears distress: Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Will this unteach us to complain, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Or make one mourner weep the less? Stuffs outhis vacant garments with his form. BYRON. SHAKSPEARE. And you, fair widow, who stay here alive, To persevere Since he so much rejoices, cease to grieve; In obstinate condolement is a course Your joys and pains were wont the same to be; Of impious stubbornness;'tis unmanly grief. Begin not now, blest pair! to disagree. SHAKSPEARE. COWLEY. Not to understand a treasure's worth I So fair and fresh as fairest flower in May: For she had laid her mournful stole aside, Till time has stol'n away the slightest good, d a And widow-like sad wimple thrown away. Is cause of half the poverty we feel, SPENSER. And makes the world the wilderness it is. COWPER. Up then, Melpomene, the mournful muse of None acted mournings forced to show, nine; Or squeeze his eyes to make the torrent flow. Such cause of mourning never hadst afore: DRYDEN. Up, grisly ghosts; and up, my rueful rhyme; Matter of mirth now shalt thou have no more. Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led, SPENSER. And thrice with loud laments they wail the dead. But 0! for the touch of a vanish'd hand, DRYDEN. And the sound of a voice that is still! Behold the turtle who has lost her mate: TENNYSON. Awhile with drooping wings she mourns his fate; I said, The years with change advance; If I make dark my countenance, But time the rueful image wears away, If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance. Again she's cheer'd, again she seeks the day. I shut my life from h TENNYSON. GAY: Dione. My only strength and stay! forlorn of thee, Where though I mourn my matchless loss alone, Whither shall I betake me? where subsist? And none between my weakness judge and MILTON. me, Yet even these gentle walls allow my moan, O thou who driest the mourner's tear, How dr t ou e, Whose doleful echoes to my plaints agree. How dclark this world would be, WOTTON. If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to thee! He mourns the dead who live as they desire. MOORE. YOUNG: Nitrlt ziTho0zh/ls. 364 MUSIC. MUSIC. As when two brethren strings are set alike, Music can noble hints impart, To move them both, but one of them we strike. Engender fury, kindle love, COWLEY. With unsuspected eloquence can move, Music of sighs thou shalt not hear, And manage all the man with secret art. Nor drink one lover's tasteful tear. ADDISON. COWLEY.,There is a charm, a power, that sways the breast; How soft the music of those village bells, Bids every passion revel or be still; Falling at intervals upon the ear Inspires with rage, or all our cares dissolves; In cadence sweet! now dying all away, Can soothe distraction, and almost despair: Now pealing loud again and louder still, That power is music. Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: UWith easy force it opens all the cells Airt of Preserving Healt/. Where mem'ry slept. Wherever I have heard A kindred melody, the scene recurs, Is there a heart that music cannot melt? And with it all its pleasures and its pains. Alas! how is that rugged heart forlorn! COWPER: Task. Is there, who ne'er those mystic transports felt Of solitude and melancholy born? Many a sweet rise, many as sweet a fall, BEATTIE: Minstrel. A full-mouth'd diapason swallows all. Such are the subtle strings in tension found, CRASHAW. Like those of lutes, to just proportion wound, Next shines the harp, and through the liquid Which of the air's vibration is the force. skies SIR R. BLACKMORE. The shell, as lightest, first begins to rise; This when sweet Orpheus struck, to list'ning There's music in the sighing of a reed; rocks There's music in the gushing of a rill;rocks There's music in th ingf He senses gave, and ears to wither'd oaks. There's music in all things, if men had ears; CREE. Their earth is but an echo of the spheres. BYRON. Th' organ-sound a time survives the stop Before it doth the dying note give up..When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung. COLLINS: The Passions. We must not blame Apollo, but his lute, If false accords from her false strings be sent. O Music! sphere-descended maid, Friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid! SIR J. DAVIES. COLLINS: The Passions. The harmony of things, As well as that of sounds, from discord springs. Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, SIR J. DENHAM. To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, Call in sweet music. I have heard soft airs And as with living souls have been inform'd Can charm our senses and expel our cares. By magic numbers and persuasive sound. SIR J. DENHAM. CONGREVE. On their exalted wings The example of the heav'nly lack, To the celestial orbs they climb, Thy fellow-poet, Cowley, mark! And with th' harmonious spheres keep time. Above the skies let thy proud music sound, SIR J. DENHAM. Thy humble nest build on the ground. When by the gamut some musicians make COWLEY. A perfect song, others will undertake, Water and air he for the tenor chose, By the same gamut changed; to equal it: Earth made the base, the treble flame arose. Things simply good can never be unfit. COWLEY. DONNE. The fighting winds would stop there and admire, Or as a lute, which in moist weather rings Learning consent and concord from his lyre. Her knell alone, by cracking of her strings. COWLEY. DONNE. MUSIC. 365 The trembling lute some touch, some strain the The new-born Phoenix takes his way; viol best. Of airy choristers a numerous train DRAYTON. Attend his progress. DRYDEN. From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began; What passion cannot music raise and quell? From harmony, from harmony, When Jubal struck the chorded shell, Through all the compass of the notes it ran, His list'ning brethren stood around. The diapason closing full in man. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. AladiDRveDEN. Their heavenly harps a lower strain began, At last divine Cecilia came, And in soft music mourn the fall of man. Inventress of the vocal frame;RYDEN. The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, Give me some music: look that it be sad. And added length to solemn sounds, DRYDEN. With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown IEthereal music did her death prepare, before. Like joyful sounds of spousals in the air. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Orpheus could lead the savage race, Sharp violins proclaim And trees uprooted left their place, Their jealous pangs and desperation, Sequacious of the lyre: For tMe fair disdainful dame. But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher; DRYDEN. When to her organ vocal breath was giv'n, The lute still trembles underneath thy nail: An angel heard, At thy well-sharpen'd thumb, from shore to And straight appear'd, shore Mistlaking earth for heav'n. -The trebles squeak for fear, the bases roar. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Ye brethren of the lyre and tuneful voice, e h o t a eoice So ceased the rival crew when Purcell came; Lament his lot; but at your own rejoice: Lament his lo;utatyoThey sung no more, or only sung his fame: Now live secure, and linger out your days; Struck dumb, they all admired. The gods are pleased alone with Purcell's lays. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. And oftwith holy hymns he charm'd their ears, Discord, like that of music's various parts; And music more melodious than the spheres. Discord, that makes the harmony of hearts; DRYDEN. Discord, that only this dispute shall bring, Who best shall love the duke and serve the king. Tune your harps, DRYDEN. Ye angels, to that sound; and thou, my heart,.Make room to entertain thy flowing joy. Had Orpheus sung it in the nether sphere, Make room to entertain thy flowing joy. DRYDEN. So much the hymn had pleased the tyrant's ear, The wife had been detain'd to keep her hus- old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown: band there. DRYDEN. He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. Their instruments were various in their kind; DRYDEN. Some for the bow, and some for breathing wind. Clad like a country swain, he piped, he sung, And playing drove his jolly troop along. None can animate the lyre, DRYDEN. And the mute strings with vocal souls inspire, And then mortal ears As Helen, in whose eyes ten thousand Cupids ~~~~~dwell. ~ad heard the music of the spheres. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The minstrels play'd on every side, Nor wanted tuneful harp, nor vocal quire; Vain of their art, and for the mastery vied. The muses sung, Apollo touch'd the lyre. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 366 MUSIC. Sweet voices, mixt with instrumental sounds, Harsh din Ascend the vaulted roof, the vaulted roof Broke the fair music that all creatures made rebounds. To their great lord, whose love their motion DRYDEN. sway'd In perfect diapason, whilst they stood With pleasure Argus the musician heeds, In perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. But wonders much at those new vocal reeds.edience, and their state of good. A I LTON DRYDEN. Their golden harps they took, Tears trickling down their breasts bedew the Harps ever tuned, that glitter'd by their side. ground, MILTON. And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound. All sounds on fret by string or golden wire DRYDEN. Temper'd soft tunings intermix'd with voice, Choral or unison. He tuned his notes both evensong and morn. MILTON. DRYDEN. In an organ from one blast of wind The band of flutes began to play, To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. To which a lady sung a virelay: MILTON. And still at every close she would repeat The burden of the song, "The daisy is so And the cherubic host, in thousand choirs, sweet!" Touch their immortal harps of golden wires. DRYDEN. MILTON. They touch'd their golden harps, and hymning By her awaked, the woodland choir praised To hail the common god prepares; praised God and his works. MILTON. And tempts me to resume the lyre, Soft warbling to the vernal airs. A fabric huge FENTON. Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies, and voices sweet. Bowzybeus, who could sweetly sing Or with the rosin'd bow torment the string. GAY. The harp Had work, and rested not; the solemn pipe, Let elegiac lay the woe relate, And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop. Soft as the breath of distant flute. MILTON. GAY. The sound Take thy harp, and melt thy maid; Symphonious of ten thousand harps that tuned Play, my friend, and charm the charmer. Angelic harmonies. GRANVILLE. MILTON. They move Though cheerfulness and I have long been They nove In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood strangers, Of flutes and soft recorders. Harmonious sounds are still delightful to me: MILTON. There's sure no passion in the human soul But finds its food in music. Nor wanting power to mitigate and'suage LILLO: -Fatal Curiosity. With solemn touches troubled thoughts. MILTON. The sound Then straight commands, that at the warlike Of instruments, that made melodious chime, sound Was heard of harp and organ; and who moved Of trumpets loud, and clarions, be uprear'd Their stops, and chords, was seen; his volant The mighty standard.MILTON. MILTON. touch, Instinct through all proportions, low and high, Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie Fled, and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. To lull the daughters of Necessity. MILTON. MILTON: Arcades. MUSIC. 367 Thy words - Orpheus' self may heave his head Attentive, and with more delighted ear, From golden slumber on a bed Divine instructor! I have heard, than when Of heap'd Elysian flow'rs, and hear Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills Such strains as would have won the ear Aerial music send. Of Pluto, to have set quite free MILTON. His half-regain'd Eurydice. Thyrsis? whose artful strains have oft delay'd MILTON: L'A/lZepro. The huddling brook to hear his madrigal. And ever, against eating cares, MILTON: C0om1us. Lap me in soft Lydian airs, At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Married to immortal verse, Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes., Such as the meeting soul may pierce And stole upon the air, that even silence In notes, with many a winding bout Was took ere she was'ware, and wish'd she Of linked sweetness long drawn out. might i MILTON: L'Ald/egro. Deny her nature and be never more, Untwisting all the chains that tie Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, The hidden soul of harmony. And took in strains that might create a soul MILTON: L'Al//egio. Under the ribs of death. MILTON: CoMzus. Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound: Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song Me softer airs befit, and softer strings First taught our English music how to span Of lute, or viol, still more apt for mournful Words with just note and accent, not to scan things. MILTON: Te Pas sioln. With Midas' ears, committing short and long. MILTON: To Mr. H. Lazes. Music! Oh, how faint, how weak, Such music as,'tis said, Language fails before thy spell! Before was never made, Why should feeling ever speak, But when of old the sons of morning sung, When thou canst breathe her soul so well? While the Creator great Friendship's balmy words may feign,His constellations set, Love's are e'en more false than they:And the well-balanced world on hinges hung. Oh''tis only music's strain MILTON: lyrmln on Christ's Nzativity. Can sweetly soothe, and not betray! The air, such pleasure loth to lose, MOORE. With thousand echoes still prolongs each heav- But the gentlest of all are those sounds full enly close. of feeling MIL'rON: ZHymZn on Christ's Nativity. That soft from the lute of some lover are There let the pealing organ blow stealing,To t the full-voiced quire below, Some lover who knows all the heart-touching To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, power As may, with sweetness througlh~ mine ear, Of a lute and a sigh in the magical hour. Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heav'n before mine eyes.: ( Sweet notes! they tell of former peace, MIITON: gI Pense-o'so. Of all that look'd so rapturous then;Come! but keep thy wonted state, Now wither'd, lost-oh! pray thee, cease! With even step and musing gait, I cannot hear those sounds again! And looks commercing with the skies, MOORE. Thy wrapt soul sitting in thine eyes. Music the fiercest grief can charm - MILTON: G Penseroso. And fate's severest rage disarm; And as I wake, sweet music breathe Music can soften pain to ease, Above, about, or underneath, And make despair and madness please; Sent by some spirit to mortals good, Our joys below it can Improve, Or th' unseen genius of the wood. And antedate the bliss above. MILTON: Ii Penseroso. POPE. 368 MUSIC. By music minds an equal temper know, Hear how Timotheus' various lays surprise, Nor swell too high, nor sink too low: And bid alternate passions fall and rise! Warriors she fires with animated sounds, While at each change the son of Libyan Jove Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds. Now burns with glory, and then melts with love. POPE. POPE. The lute neglected, and the lyric muse, Thy words like music every breast control Love taught my tears in sadder notes to flow, Steal through the air, and win upon the soul. And tuned my heart to elegies of woe. POPE. POPE. Music resembles poetry: in each If nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears, Are nameless graces, which no methods teach, And stunn'd him with the music of the spheres, And which a master's hand alone can reach! How would he wish that heaven had left him POPE. still The whisp'ring zephyr, and the purling rill! Novel lays attract our ravish'd ears; POPE. But old, the mind with inattention hears. POPE. With horns and trumpets now to madness swell, So swells each windpipe; ass intones to ass, Now sink in sorrows with a tolling bell. Harmonic twang of leather, horn, and brass. POPE. POPE. He sung, and hell consented Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes; To hear the poet's pray'r; In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats; Stern Proserpine relented, Till, by degrees remote and small, And gave him back the fair. POPE. The strains decay, And melt away While in more lengthen'd notes and slow In a dying, dying fall. POPE. The deep, majestic, solemn organs blow. POPE.~~~~ ~POPE. Hark! the numbers soft and clear Gently steal upon the ear; Heroes' and heroines' shouts confus'dly rise, Now louder and yet louder rise, And base and treble voices strike the skies. And fill with spreading sounds the skies. POPE. POPE. One dip the pencil, and one touch the lyre. If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, POPE. Music her soft assuasive voice supplies. POPE. Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quiv'ring string. To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away, POPE. And melts in visions of eternal day. POPE. In a sadly pleasing strain Let vernal airs through trembling osiers play, Let the warbling lute complain. And Albion's cliffs resound the rural lay. POPE. Descend, ye nine; descend and sing; When the soul is sunk with cares, The breathing instrument inspire, Exalts her in enliv'ning airs. Wake into voice each silent string, POPE. And sweep the sounding lyre. POPE. Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire; While solemn airs improve the sacred fire, No more the streams their murmurs shall forAnd angels lean from heav'n to hear. bear POPE. A sweeter music than their own to hear; Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore, And the loud clarion labour in your praise. Fair Daphne's dead, and music is no more. POPE. POPE. MUSIC. 369 Often our seers and poets have confest Praise with timbrels, organs, flutes; That music's force can tame the furious beast; Praise with violins and lutes. Can make the wolf, or foaming boar, restrainANDYS. His rage; the lion drop his crested mane, Praise with trumpets, pierce the skies, Attentive to the song; the lynx forget Praise with harps and psalteries. His wrath to man, and lick the minstrel's feet. SANDYS. Are we, alas! less savage yet than these? If music be the food of love, play on; Else music, sure, may human cares appease. m e, PRIOR. CGive me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. Your lute may wind its strings but little higher That strain again;-it had a dying fall: To tune their notes to that immortal choir. 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south PRIOR. That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing, and giving odour. From the soft lyre, SIHAKSPEARE. Sweet flute, and ten-string'd instrument, require Sounds of delight. Orpheus with his lute made trees, PRIOR. And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing: The artful youth proceed to form the quire; To his music plants and fowers They breathe the flute, or strike the vocal wire. Ever sprung, as sun and showers PRIOR. There had made a lasting spring. When Pedro does the lute command, SHAKSPEARE. She guides the cunning artist's hand. PRIOR. Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Whose golden touch could soften steel and The captives, as their tyrant shall require, stones, That they should breathe the song, and touch Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans the lyre, Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. Shall say: Can Jacob's servile race rejoice, SHAKSPEARE. Untuned the music, and disused the voice? PRIOR. Preposterous ass! that never read so far To know the cause why music was ordain'd! Then came rich clothes and graceful action in, Was it not to refresh the mind of man, Then instruments were taught more moving After his studies, or his usual pain? notes. nc.SHAKSPEARE. ROSCOMMON. Charm'd by these strings, trees, starting from This music crept by me upon the waters, the ground, Allaying both their fury and my passion Have follow'd with delight the powerful sound. With its sweet air. SHAKSPEARE. ROSCOMMON. Oh! had the monster seen those lily hands E'en rage itself is cheer'd with music: Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute. It wakes a glad remembrance of our youth, SHAI(SPEAR E. Calls back past joys, and warms us into transport. Play that sad note ROWE. I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating The string that jars On that celestial harmony I go to. \When rudely touch'd, ungrateful to the sense, With pleasure feels the master's flying fingers, Give me some music! music, moody food Swells into harmony, and charms the hearers. Of us that trade in love. ROWE. SHAKSPEARE. Strike the melodious harp, shrill timbrels ring, She taketh most delight And to the warbling lute soft ditties sing. In music, instruments, and poetry. SANDYS. SHAKSPEARE. 24 370 MUSIC. Ev'ry thing that heard him play, Make all our trumpets speak, give them all Ev'n the billows of the sea, breath, Hung their heads, and then lay by; Those clam'rous harbingers of blood and death. In sweet music is such art, SHAKSPEARE. Killing care and grief of heart The choir, Fall asleep, or hearing die. SHASPEARE. With all the choicest music of the kingdom, SHAKSPEARE. Together sung Te Deum. A thousand twanging instruments SHAKSPEARE. Will hum about mine ear. SHAKSPEARE. My tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol, or a harp, One whom the music of his own vain tongue i har y Or like a cunning instrument cased up, Doth ravish like enchanting harmony. SHASPERE. Or, being open, put into his hands SHAKSPEARE. b That knows no touch to tune the harmony. Music in the close, SHAKSPEARE. As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last. SHAKSPEARE. Take but degree away, untune that string, And hark what discord follows. This music mads me; let it sound no more; SHAKSPEARE. For though it have help'd madmen to their wits, In me, it seems, it will make wise men mlad. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank SHAKSPEARE. Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night, I sat upon a. promontory, Become the touches of sweet harmony. And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, SHAKSPEARE. Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song. I'm never merry when I hear sweet music; SHAKSPEARE. The reason is, your spirits are attentive. Visit by night your lady's chamber window SHAKSPEARE. With some sweet concert; to their instruments For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead silence Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Will well become such sweet complaining Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing grievance. SHAKSPEARE. HAKPARE Which is the hot condition of their blood; Music do I hear? If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Ha! ha! keep time. How sour sweet music is Or any air of music touch their ears, When time is broke, and no proportion kept! You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, SHAKSPEARE. Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze, By the sweet power of music. Being but young, I framed to the harp By the sweet power of SASPEAic. Many an English ditty lovely well, And gave the tongue a helpful ornament. SHARCSPEARE. Therefore the poet SHAKSPEARE. Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and It is the lark that sings so out of tune, floods; Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, SHAKSPEARE. But music for the time doth change his nature. SHAKSPEARE. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, The nan that hath no music in himself, Make the sun dance. SHAKSPEARE. Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, SHAI(SPEARE. Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; Nay, now you are too flat, The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And mar the concord with too harsh a descant. And his affections dark as Erebus. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. MUSIC. 3 7 But my rude music, which was wont to please The damsels they delight Some dainty ears, cannot with any skill When they their timbrels smite, The dreadful tempest of her wrath appease, And thereunto dance and carol sweet. Nor move the dolphin from her stubborn will; SPENSER. But in her pride she doth persevere still. When in hand my tuneless harp I take, SPENSER. Then do I more augment my foes' despight. And after to his palace he them brings, SPENSER. With shawms, and trumpets, and with clarions Then'gan triumphant trumpets sound on high. SPENSER. And all the way the joyous people sings. She more sweet than any bird on bough, SPENSER. Would oftentimes amongst them bear a part, And strive to pass, as she could well enow, Hark how the minstrels'gin to shrill aloud Their native music by her skilful art. Their merry music that resounds from far, SPENSER. The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling crowd, That well agree withouten breach or jar. And let the roaring organs loudly play SPENSER. The praises of the Lord in lively notes; The whiles, with hollow throats, Calliope with muses moe, The choristers the joyous anthem sing. Soon as thy oaten pipe begun to sound, SPENSER. Their ivory lutes and tamborines forego. Music, which gentlier on the spirit lies SPENSER. Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes. Or is thy bagpipe broke, that sounds so sweet? TENNYSON. Or art thou of thy loved lass forlorn? To souls oppress'd and dumb with grief, SPENSER. The gods ordain this kind relief, That music should in sounds convey Forgetful of the famous golden fleece,' hat dying lovers dare not say. Then Orpheus with his harp their strife did bar. WALLER. SPENSER. SPENSER usic so softens and disarms the mind Arion, when through tempest cruel wreck That not an arrow does resistance find. He forth was thrown into the greedy seas, WALLER. Through the sweet music which his harp did Thy heart no ruder than the rugged stone, make, I might, like Orpheus, with my num'rous moan Allured a dolphin him from death to ease. Melt to compassion. SPENSER. WALLER. 372 NA4 URE. NATURE. Nature in man capacious souls hath wrought, And given them voice expressive of their Yet what avail her unexhausted stores, Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, thought; In man the God descends, and joys to find With all the gifts that heav'n and earth impart, The narrow image of his greater mind. The smiles of nature, and the charms of art? CREECH. A DDISON. Virtues like these Nature in man's heart her laws doth pen, Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will. Miake human nature shine, reform the soul, Arid break our fierce barbarians into men. SIR J. DAVIES. ADDISON. The work the touchstone of the nature is; And by their operations things are known. O nature, how in every charm supreme! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new SIR J. DAVIES. O for the voice and fire of seraphim, For her true form how can my spark discern, To sing thy glories with devotion clue! Which, dim by nature, art did never clear? BEATTIE: M'n1zstrel. SIR J. DAvIES. That clearer marks of masterly design, Ev'ry senseless thing, by nature's light, Of wise contrivance, and of judgment, shine Doth preservation seek, destruction shun. In all the parts of nature, we assert, SIR J. DAVIES. Than in the brightest works of human art. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Since nature fails us in no needful thing, Why want I means my inward self to see? What controlling cause SIR J. DAVIES. Makes water, in contempt of nature's laws, Climb up, and gain th' aspiring mountain's This doctrine doth not enter by the ear, height? But of itself is native in the breast. SIR R. BLACKAIORE. SIR J. DAVIES. You swim a-top, and on the surface strive, And nature, which all acts of life designs, But to the depths of nature never dive. Not like ill poets in the last declines. SIR R. BLACIKMIORE. SIR J. DENHAM. Survey None Nature's extended face, then, skeptics, say, Can say, here nature ends, and art begins, In this wide world of wonders can you find But mixt like th' elements, and born like twins, No art? So interweaved, so like, so much the same: SIR R. BLACKMORE. None, this mere nature, this mere art, can name. SIR J. DENTHAM. Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends; To worthiest things, Where roll'd the ocean, thereon was his home; Virtue, art, beauty, fortune, now I see, Where a blue sky and glowing clime extends, Rareness or use, not nature, value brings; He had the passion and the power to roam: And such as they are circumstanced they be. The desert, forest, cavern, breaker's foam, DONNE. Were unto him companionship; they spake A mutual language, clearer than the tone Unhappy man to break the pious laws UOf nature pleading ito his hes l cause: Of his land's tongue, which he would oft for-, Howe'er the doubtful fact is understood, For nature's pages glazed by sunbeams on the The love of honour and his country's good; lake. - The consul, not the father, sheds the blood. BYRON: CG/ilde Haoold. DIRYDEN, Heav'n bestows Fain would I choose a middle course to steer; At home all riches that wise nature needs. Nature's too kind, and justice too severe. COWLEY. DRYDEN. NA TTURE. 373 When casting up his eyes against the light, So bounded are our natural desires, Both month, and day, and hour, he measured That wanting all, and setting pain aside, right, With bare privation sense is satisfied. And told more truly than the ephemeris; DRYDEN. For art may err, but nature cannot miss. Shall man from nature's sanction stray, A rebel to her rightful sway? He look'd like nature's error: as the mind FENTON. And body were not of a piece design'd, To me, more dear, congenial to my heart, But made for two, and by mistake in one were One native charm; than all the gloss of art. join'd. GOLDSMDITH: Deserled Vi''age. DRYDEN. This is the utmost stretch that nature can, By viewing nature, nature's handmaid, art, And all heyond is fulsome, false, and vain. Makes mighty things from small beginnings GRANVILLE. grow; Thus fishes first to shipping did impart, Nature here Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow. Vanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at ill DRYDEN. Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweets, Wild above rule, or art, enormous bliss! Nature, that rude, and in her first essay, MILTON. Stood boggling at the roughness of the way, ZUsed to the road, unknowing to retarnNature's full blessings would be well dispensed Used to the road, unknowing to return, Goes boldly on, and loves the path when worn.In unsuperflnous, even proportion, And she no whit encumber'd with her store. DRMILTODEN. This law, though custom now directs the course, As nature's institute is yet in force, Nature's own work it seem'd (nature taught art), IUncancell'd, though disused. And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt DRYDEN. Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs. MILTON. Fly in nature's face! MILTON. But how if nature fly in my face first? How nature paints her colours, how the bee Then nature's the aggressor. Let her look to't. Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet. DRYDEN. MILTON. To study nature will thy time employ; Or nature fail'cl in me, and left some part Knowledge and innocence are perfect joy. Not proof enough such object to sustain. DRYDEN. MILTON. Their customs are by nature wrought; My hopes all flat, nature within me seems, But we, by art, unteach what nature taught. In all her functions, weary of herself. DRYDEN. MILTON. For from all tempers he could service draw; But errs not nature from this gracious end, The ~worth of each, with its allay, he knew; From burning suns when livid deaths descend? And, as the confidant of nature, saw POPE. How she complexions did divide and brew. Nature and nature's laws lay hid in night; DRYDEN. God said, Let Newton be; and all was light. Our dame sits cow'ring o'er a kitchen fire; POPE. I draw fresh air, and nature's works admire. Nature to these, without profusion, kind, DRYDEN. The proper organs, proper pow'rs, assign'd; All these are ours, all nature's excellence, Each seeming want compensated of course, Whose taste or smell can bless the feasted sense. Here with degrees of swiftness, there of force. DRYDEN. POPE. Who great in search of God. and nature grow, Judge we by nature? habit can efface; They best the wise Creator's praise declare. Opinions? they still take a wider range. DRYDEN. POPE. 374 NA/TURE. All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Simple nature to his hope has giv'n Whose body Nature is, and God the soul; Beyond the cloud-capt hill an humbler heav'n. That, changed through all, is yet in all the same; POPE. Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame; All nature is but art unknown to thee; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, s in the su, r ses in the breez All chance, direction which thou canst not see; Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; Lives through all life, extends through all ex-All d iscord, harm ony not understood; ~~~~~~~tent, ~All partial evil, universal good. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~tent, ~POPE. Spreads undivided, operates unspent, Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; But looks through nature up to nature's God. As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns POPE. As the rapt seraph that adores and burns: As the rapt seraph that adowres and burns: Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, To Him no high, no low, no great, no small: And catch the manners living as they rise He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all. Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; POPE. But vindicate the ways of God to man. Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light; POPE. The lines, though touch'd but faintly, are drawn.' How mean the order and perfection sought. POPE. In the best product of the human thought, Compared to the great harmony that reigns Some objects please our eyes In what the spirit of the world ordains! Which out of nature's common order rise, PRIOR. The shapeless rock, or hanging precipice. POPE. Lay the rough paths of peevish nature ev'n, And open in each heart a little heav'n. Unerring Nature, still divinely bright, PRIOR. One clear, unchanged, and universal light, Life, force, and beauty must to all impart: No natural exhalation in the sky, At once the source, and end, and test of art. No'scape of nature, no distemper'd day, POPE. Buit they would pluck away its nat'ral cause, And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs. See what the charms that smite the simple heart, SHAKSPEARE. Not touch'd by nature, and not reach'd by art. POPE. Our natures do pursue (Like rats that ravin down their proper bane) Love, duty, safety, summon us away; A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.'Tis nature's voice, and nature we obey. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Nature does require First follow nature, and your judgment frame Her times of preservation, which, perforce, By her just standard, which is still the same. I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, POPE. Must give my tendance to. SHAKSPEARE. What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme, It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect, The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam; That will confess perfection so could err Of smell, the headlong lioness between, Against all rules of nature. SHAKSPEARE. And hound sagacious on the tainted green. POPE. There is an art which in their piedness shares What makes all physical and moral ill? With great creating nature. There nature deviates, and here wanders will.SHAKSPEARE POPE. I that am curtail'd of man's fair proportion, To build, to plant, whatever you intend, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, In all let nature never be forgot. Deform'd, unfinish'd. POPE. SHAKSPEARE NA TURE. —NIVE W YEAR.-NEVE WS. 375 Every one With piercing eye some search where nature According to the gift which bounteous nature plays, Hath in him closed. And trace the wanton through her darksome SHAKSPEARE. maze. TICKELL. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends Look nature through:'tis revolution all; The smallest scruple of her excellence, All change; no death. Day follows night, and But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines night Herself the glory of a creditor- The dying day; stars rise, and set, and rise; Both thanks and use. Earth takes th' example. SHAKSPEARE. YOUNG. Such blessings nature pours, Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law Such blessings nature pours, My services are hound; wherefore should I,O'erstock'd mankind enjoy but half her stores; My services are bound; wherefore should I Stand to the plague of custom? In distant wilds, by human eyes unseen, Stand to the plague of custom? SHAKISPEAaE. She rears her flow'rs and spreads her velvet green. This is an art YOUNG. Which does mend nature, change it rather; but Man's rich with little, were his judgment true; The art itself is nature. Nature is frugal, and her wants are few; These few wants, answer'd, bring sincere There's no such thing in nature; and you'll draw delights; A faultless monster which the world ne'er saw. But fools create themselves new appetites. SHEFFIELD: E'ssay oi Poetry. YOUNG. lavish nature, in her best attire, What nature wants has an intrinsic weight, There lavish nature, in her best attire, There. ~All more is but the fashion of the plate. Pours forth sweet odours and alluring sights; YouNG. And art with her contending doth aspire T' excel the natural with made delights. SPENSER. NEW YEAR. Is it her nature, or is it her will, Let this auspicious morning be express'd To be so cruel to an humble foe? With a white stone distinguish'd from the rest, If nature, then she may it mend with skill; White as thy fame, and as thy honour clear; If will, then she at will may will forego. And let new joys attend on thy new-added year. SPENSER. DRYDEN. Would they think with how small allowance Madam, new years may well expect to find Untroubled nature doth herself suffice, Welcome from you, to whom they are so kind: Such superfluities they would despise. Still as they pass, they court and smile on you, SPENSER. And make your beauty, as themselves, seem new. Nature, disturb'd, WALLER. Is deem'd vindictive to have changed her course. THOMSON. NEWS. 0 nature! Each mind is press'd, and open every ear, To hear new tidings, though they no way joy us. Enrich e with the knoledge of thy orFAIRFAX.s: Snatch me to heaven. THOMSON. If't be summer news, Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st Who can paint -Like ture ainBut keep that countenance still. Like nature? Can imagination boast, SHAKSPEARE. Amid its gay creation, hues like hers, Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, Give to a gracious message And lose them in each other, as appears An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell In every bud that blows? Themselves, when they be felt. THOMSON: Seasons. SHAKSPEARE. 376 IVIGERH. The first bringer of unwelcome news The diligence of trade, and noiseful gain, Hath but a losing office; and his tongue And luxury, more late, asleep were laid: Sounds ever after as a sullen bell All was the night's: and in her silent reign Remember'd knolling a departing friend. No sound the rest of nature did invade. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. All things are hush'd, as nature's self lay dead. NIGHT. The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head; O mysterious night! The little birds in dreams their songs repeat, Thou art not silent: many tongues hast thou! And sleeping flowers beneath the night-deovs JOANNA BAILLIE: -De Montfort. sweat. DRYDEN. O night, when good men rest, and infants sleep, They leave the shady realms of night, Thou art to me no season of repose, But a fear'd time ofwaking more intense, And, clothed in bodies, breathe your upper But a fear'd time of waking more intense, Of life more keen, of misery more palpable. light. DRYDEN. JOANNA BAILLIE: EtlznCa7d. Whose little intervals of night are broke This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, By sparks that drive against his sacred face. And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars. DRYDEN. MRS. BARBAULD: Summer Evenino ll,- feditnaion. The night seems double with the fear she brings. DRYDEN. At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,,, 6 o X, In silence brooding on th' unhappy ground. When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, In silence brooding on th' unhappy ground. I)RYDEN. And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove. Dissembling sleep, but wakeful with the' fright, BEATTIE: Herminz't. The day takes off the pleasure of the night. Of night impatient, we demand the clay; DRYDEN. The day arrives, and for the night we pray. So whirl the seas, such darkness blinds the sky, SIR R. BL ACKMbORE. That the black night receives a deeper dye. DRYDEN. The night Shows stars and women in h better light. Darkness, ve see, emerges into light; BYRON. And shining suns descend to sable night. DRYDEN. All was so still, so soft, in earth and air, You scarce would start to meet a spirit there; Adoring first the genius of the place, Secure that nauht of evil could delight And night, and all the stars that gild her salle Secure that naught of evil could delight t To walk in such a scene, on such a night. Z! DRYDEN. BYRON:.ar1a. Of close escapes the aged patroness, The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Blacker than erst, hel sable mantle spread. Of the snow-shining mountains. Beautiful! FAIRFAX. I linger yet with nature; for the night Now night in silent state begins to rise, Hath been to me a more familiar face And twinkling orbs bestrow th' uncloudy skies; Than that of man; and in her starry shade lustre growing Cynthia lends. Her borrow'd lustre growing Cynthia lends. Of dim and solitary loveliness GAY. I learn'd the language of another world. IBEYRON: Zllanftw ed. How Will-a-wisp misleads night-faring clowns O'er hills, and sinking bogs, and pathless downs. By the revolution of the skies, GAY. Night's sable shadows from the ocean rise. The sun was set; the night came on apace, SIR J. DENIH-AM. And falling dews bewet around the place; A sudden darkness covers all; The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings, True genuine night: night added to the groves. And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings. DRYDEN. GAY: S/zepeierd's WVeek. VIGHT. 377 So travellers, who waste the day, Find out some uncouth cell, Noting at length the setting sun, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous They mend their pace as night comes on. wings, GRANVILLE. And the night raven sings. MILTON. The day is done, and the darkness Of night or loneliness it recks me not; Falls from the wings of Night, I fear the dread events that dog them both. As a feather is wafted downward MILTON. From an eagle in his flight. Might we but hear LONGFELLOW. The folded flockss penn'd in their wattled cotes, And the night shall be fill'd with music, Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, And the cares that infest the day Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, Count the night-watches to his feathery dames, And as silently steal away.'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering, LONGFELLOW. In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. MILTON. Fair eldest child of love, thou spotless night! Empress of silence, and the queen of sleep; Where eldest Night Who, with thy black cheek's pure complexion, And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Mak'st lovers' eyes enamour'd of thy beauty. Eternal anarchy amidst the noise MARLOWE. Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. MILTON. The midnight clock has toll'd; and hark! the hell With him enthroned Of death beats slow! heard ye the note pro- Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, found? The consort of his reign. It pauses now; and now with rising knell MILTON. Flings to the hollow gale its sullen sound. There does a sable cloud MASON. Turn forth her silver lining on the night, Quiet nit, that brings And cast a gleam over this tufted grove. Quiet night, that brings Z1MILTON. Rest to the labourer, is the outlaw's day, In which he rises early to do wrong, They set and rise: And, when his work is ended, dare not sleep. Lest total darkness should by night regain MASSINGER. Her old possession, and extinguish life. M ILTON. Night's silent reign had robb'd the world of For now began light, Night with her sullen Nwings to double shade To lend, in lieu, a greater benefit, — The desert; fowls in their clay nests were Repose and sleep; when ev'ry mortal breast, couch'd, Whom care or grief permitted, took their rest. And now wild beasts came forth the woods to THOMAS MAY: Continzzcatioz of Lzicaz. roam. MILTON. Unmuffle, ye faint stars! and thou, fair moon, By command, ere yet dim night That wont'st to love the traveller's benison, Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, Homeward. And disinherit chaos, that reigns here MILTON. In double night, of darkness and of shade. MILTON. Thrice the equinoctial line He circled; four times cross'd the car of night O thievish night! From pole to pole, traversing each colure. Why should'st thou, but for some felonious end, MILTON. In thy dark lanthorn thus close up the stars Round he surveys, and well might, where he That nature hung in heav'n, and fill'd the lamps stood, With everlasting oil, to give due light So high above the circling canopy To the misled and lonely traveller? Of night's extended shade. MILTON. MILTON. 378 N/GH-T. The wakeful nightingale Thus sung the shepherds till th' approach of All night long her amorous descant sung. night, MILTON, The skies yet blushing with departing light, If the night When falling dews with spangles deck'd the Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd, glade, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. And the low sun had lengthen'd every shade. MILTON. POPE. Night, not now, as ere man fell, - Now sunk the sun from his aerial height, Wholesome, and cool, and mild; but with black And o'er the shaded billows ush'd the night. air POPE. Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom. MILTN. As when a lion in the midnight hours, MILTON. Beat by rude blasts and w et with wintry show'rs, Befriend me, night, best patroness of grief; Descends terrific from the mountains brow. Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw. POPE. MILTON. Pitchy and dark the night sometimes appears, We drove afield; and both together heard Friend to our woe, and parent of our fears; What time the gray fly winds her sultry horn, Our joy and wonder sometimes she excites Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night. With stars unnumber'd. MILTON. PRIOR. How sweetly did they float upon the wings From the bright effluence of his deed Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, They borrow that reflected light At ev'ry fall smoothing the raven down With which the lasting lamps they feed Of darkness till it smiled. Whose beams dispel the damps of envious MILTON. night. Night is the time for rest;- PRIOR. How sweet, when labours close, o see n n laborsH I-Hs limbs must ache, with daily toils opprest, To gather round an aching breast Ere long-wish'd night brings necessary rest. The curtain of repose, PRIOR. Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head Down on our own delightful bed! May they not justly to our climes upbraid JAMES MONTGORMERY. Shortness of night, and penury of shade? PRIOR. Fly not yet:'tis just the hour Again the lonely fox roams far abroad, When pleasure, like the midnight flower scorns the eye of vulgar light, On secret rapine bent, and midnight fraud;,That son ee-fvgNow haunts the cliff, now traverses the lawn, Begins to bloom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon. And flies the hated neighbourhood of man. And maids who love the moon. PRIOR. MOORE. There pause at midnight's spectral hour, I vlew, Iby no presumption led, And list the long-resounding gale, Your revels of the night. Your revels of the night. And catch the fleeting moonlight's power, O'er foaming seas and distant sail. Now sunk the sun; the closing hour of day MRS. RADCLIFFE: Afivsleries of Udol/hto. Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray; This dead of night, this silent hour of darkness, Nature in silencebid the world repose. Nature in silencebid the world repose. Nature for rest ordain'd, and soft repose. PARNELL: hermit.OWE. ROWE. Nocturnal shades The drowsy night grows on the world, and now This world envelop, and th' inclement air The busy craftsman and o'er-labour'd hind Persuades men to repel benumbing frosts. Forget the travail of the day in sleep: JOHN PHILIPS. Care only wakes, and moping pensiveness: Then rose the seed of chaos and of night, With meagre discontented looks they sit, To blot out order and extinguish light. And watch the wasting of the midnight taper. POPE. ROWE: yane Shore. NTIGH. 379 The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is't night's predominance, or:the day's shame, Is crept into the bosom of the sea: That darkness does the face of earth entomb? And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades SHAKSPEARE. That drag the tragic, melancholy night; That drag the tragic, melancholy night; Yon light is not daylight, I know it well: Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging It is some meteor that the sun exhales, It is some meteor that the sun exhales, wings, wings,. To be to thee this night a torch-bearer. Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty SHAKSPEARE. jaws Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. Swift, swift, you dragons of the night! that SHAKSPEARE. dawning Brief as the lightning in the collied night, May bare the raven's eye. SHAKSPEARE. That, in a spleen, unfolds both heav'n and earth; And ere a man had power to say c "Behold!" You shall put The jaws of darkness do devour it up. This night's great business into my despatch, SHAKSPEARE. Which shall to all our nights and days to come, Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. Ere the bat hath flown SHAISPEARE. His cloister'd flight; ere to black Hecate's sumThe moos Black is the badge of hell, The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums, The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night. SHAKSPEARE. Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done Come, seeling night, A leed of dreadful note. Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; * SHAKSPEARE. And, with thy bloody and invisible hand, Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour Cancel, and tear to pieces, that great bond Which keeps me pale! Unto the weary and all-watched night; Which keeps me pale SHA KSPEARE. But freshly looks, and overbears attaint With cheerful semblance. Light thickens, and the crow SHAKSPEARE. Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, What may this mean? Whiles night's black agents to their preys do That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel s rouse. Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, SHAKSPEARE. Making night hideous? SHAKSPEARE. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black. I past, methought, the melancholy flood SAKsEa. With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.'Tis now the very witching time of night; SHAKSPEARE. When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Will he steal out of his wholesome bed, out Contagion to this world. SHAKESPEARE. To dare the vile contagion of the night? SHAI(~sPEARE. We have heard the chimes at midnight. Night is fled, SHAKSPEARE. Whose pitchy mantle overveil'd the earth. Come at once; For the close night doth play the runaway, This is the night And we are staid for. That either makes me, or fordoes me quite. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE, Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, Steed threatens steed in high and boastful The ear more quick of apprehension makes: neighs, - Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense Piercing the night's dull ear. It pays the hearing double recompense. SH AKSPEARE, SHAKSPEARE. 380 NIGHT. - OA TH. Thus out of season threading dark-eyed night. Now black and deep the night begins to fall, SHAKSPEARE. A shade immense —sunk in the quenching gloom, Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth. How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh Order confounded lies; all beauty void; Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear a Distinction lost; and gay variety Were discord to the speaking quietude One universal blot: such the power That wraps this moveless scene. SHELLEY. Of light, to kindle and create the whole. THOMSON: Seasons. But well I wot that to a heavy heart Thou art the root and nurse of bitter cares, When now no more th' alternate Twins are fired, Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts: And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze, Instead of rest thou lendest railing tears; Short is the doubtful empire of the night. Instead of sleep thou sendest troublous fears, THOMSON. And dreadful visions in the which alive Hence foxes earth'd, and wolves abhorr'd the The dreary image of sad death appears: day So from the wreary spirit thou dost drive And ungry ced the nig And hungry churls ensnared the nightly prey. Desired rest, and men of happiness deprive. TIcKELL. SPENSER. Thou mak'st the night to overveil the day; Let the night be calm and quietsome, th te m s, Then lions' whelps lie roaring for their prey, Without tempestuous storms or sad affiray. SPENSER. And at thy powerful hand demand their food; SPENSER. Who when at morn they all recouch again, When as night hath us of light forlorn, Then toiling man till eve pursues his pain. I wish that day would shortly reascend. TOTTON. SPENSER. Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, By this the drooping daylight'gan to fade, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth And yield his room to sad succeeding night, Her leaden sceptr-e o'er a slumb'ri ng world. Who with her sable mantle'gan to shade Silence, how dead! and darkness, how proThe face of earth and ways of living wight. found! SPENSER. Nor eye, nor list'ning ear, an object finds: Still night succeeds Creation sleeps.'Tis as the gen'ral pulse A soften'd shade, and saturated earth Of life stood still, and nature made a pause; Awaits the morning beam. An awful pause! prophetic of her end. THOMSON. YOUNG: NVIz/t T/zozffts. OATH. To keep that oath were more impiety Than Jephthah's, when he sacrificed his daughOaths were not purposed more than law ter To keep the good and just in awe, SHARSPEARE. But to confine the bad and sinful, Like moral cattle, in a pinfold. An oath is a recognizance to heaven, BUTLER: zionib;as. Binding us over in the courts above, So was his will To plead to the indictment of our crimes, Pronounced among the gods, and hy an1 oath, That those who'scape this world should suffer there, That shook heav'n's whole circumference, con- there. ~firm'd. MILTON.~ SOUTHERN: Oronzoo/ko. ~fir m'd, ~MILTON. It is great sin to swear unto a sin, What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. Where men regard no God but interest? SHTAKSPEARE. WALLER. OBIJTU4 RIES. - OBL VION. - OBS TZ1NA C Y.- O CEA N. 38i OBITUARIES. With some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Each lovely scene shall thee restore, Which weighs upon the heart. For thee the tear be duly shed; Which weighs uon the heart. SHAKSPEARE. Beloved, till life could charm no more, And mourn'd, till pity's self be dead. OBSTINACY. COLLINS. As he that hath been often told his fault, Green be the turf above thee, And still persists, is as impertinent Friend of my better days; None knew thee but to love thee, As a musician that will always play None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. And yet is always out at the same note. Nor named thee but to praise. HALLECK. RoscoMMON. Underneath this stone cloth lie Say she be mute, and will not speak a word; As much virtue as could die, Then I'll commend her volubility, Which, when alive, did vigour give And say she uttereth piercing eloquence. To as much beauty as could live. SHAKSPEARE. BEN JONSON. Had the number of her days OCEAN. Been as complete as w7as her praise, Been as complete as was her raise, Then, briny seas, and tasteful springs, farewell, Nature and Fate had had no strife Nature agng Fiate had had no strife Where fountain nymphs, confused with Nereids, In giving limit to her life. dwell. MILTON. dwell. ADDISON. How loved, how honour'd once, avails thee not, Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock To whom r-elat-ed, or by whtom begot: Calh and unruffled as a summer's sea, A heap of dust alone remains of thee: When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface.'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be.ADnIsoN: Cito. POPE. Had not the deep been form'd, that might contain OBLIVION. All the collected treasures of the main; The earth had still o'erwhelm'd with water Farewell, ungrateful and uinklind! I go, stood, Condemn'd by thee, to those sad shades below: To man an uninhabitable flood. I go th' extremest remedy to prove, To drink oblivion, and to drench my love. DRYDEN. The wise contriver on his end intent, Careful this fatal error to prevent, Let flames on your unlucky papers prey, Careful this fatal error to pre t And keep the waters firom corruption free, Your wars, your loves, your praises, be forgot, Anur make, yofr allv, un urversal e, b t, Mix'd them with salt, and season'd all the sea. And make of all an universal blot. SIR R. BLACKMORE. DRYDEN. While black with storms the ruffled ocean rolls, ATis done, and since'tis done,'tis past recall; And from the fisher's art defends her finny And since'tis past recall, must be forgotten. shoals. SIR R. BLACIKMORE. Whole droves of minds are by the driving god As when the sea breaks o'er its bounds, Compell'd to drink the deep Lethean flood; And overflows the level grounds, In large forgetful draughts to steep the cares Those banks and dams, that lilce a screen Of their past labours and their irksome years. Did keep it out, now leep it in. DRYDEN. BUTLER: Hmligabs. When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy, O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free And mighty states characterless are grated Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, To dusty nothing. Survey our empire and behold our home! SHAKSPEARE. BYRON: Corsair. 382 OCEAN. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, —roll! In vain did nature's wise command Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain: Divide the waters from the land, Mall marks the earth with ruin, -his control If daring ships and men profane Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain Invade th' inviolable main; The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain Th' eternal fences overleap, A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, And pass at will the boundless deep. When for a moment, like a drop of rain, DRYDEN. He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and un-. th kli~~~nown. ~Who whipt the winds, and made the sea his known. BYRON: Ch/ilde Hfarold. slave? DRYDEN. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests: in all time, The billows fall, while Neptune lays his mace Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, On the rough sea, and smooths its furrow'd face. Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime DRYDEN. Dark-heaving- boundless, endless, and sub- The British cannon formidably roars, lime- While, starting from his oozy bed, The image of eternity-the throne Th' asserted ocean rears his reverend head, Of the invisible; even from out thy slime To view and recognize his ancient lold. The monsters of the deep are made: each zone DRYDEN. Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. The winds are changed, your friends from BYRON: Childe Harolo&. danger free, Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, Or I renounce my skill in augury. DRYDEN. And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide, The exulting sense, the pulse's madd'ning play, At last a falling billow stops his breath, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way? Breaks o'er his head, and whelms him underBYRON: Corsair. neath. DRYDEN. The seas retain Not only their outrageous esture there, Nor from his patrimonial heav'n alone But supernatural mischief they expire. Is Jove content to pour his vengeance down; CHAPMAN. Aid from his brother of the seas he craves,.The sea! the sea! the open sea! To help him with auxiliary waves. The blue, the fresh, the ever free! DRYDEN. Without a mark, without a bound, Should I be left, and thou be lost, the sea, It runneth the earth's wide regions round; That buried her I loved, should bury me. It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, DRYDEN. Or like a cradled creature lies. BARRY CORNWALL (B. W. PROCTER.) Seas hid with navies, chariots passing o'er The channel, on a bridge from shore to shore. Beneath the mighty ocean's wealthy caves, DRYDEN. Beneath the eternal fountain of all waves, Where their vast court the mother waters keep, There stands a rock; the raging billows roar And, undisturb'd by moons, in silence sleep. Above his head in storms; but when'tis clear, COWLEY. Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his feet appear. A wet sheet and a flowing sea, DRYDEN. A wind that follows fast, Thy force alone their fury can restrain, And fills the white and rustling sail, And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled And bends the gallant mast. main. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM: Songs. DRYDEN. Seas are troubled when they do revoke They seem'd to fear the formidable sight, Their flowing waves into themselves again, And roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight. SIR J. DAVIES. DRYDEN. OCEAN. 383 What brought you living to the Stygian state? Wave rolling after wave in torrent rapture. Driv'n by the winds and errors of the sea, MILTON. Or did you Heav'n's superior doom obey? DRYDEN. Illimitable ocean! without bound, Without dimension; where length, breadth, and Shall I mention make height, Of the vast mound that binds the Lucrine lake? And time, and place, are lost. Or the disdainful sea, that, shut from thence, MILTON. Roars round the structure, and invades the fence? ~~~~~DRYDE:~N.Of elements DRYDEN. The grosser feeds the purer; earth the sea; Of all that since have used the open sea, Earth and the sea feed air. Than the bold English none more fame have MILTON. won; Beyond the year, and out of heav'n's high way, Sea over'd sea, They made discoveries where they see no sun. MILTON. DRYDEN. Cheer'd with the grateful smell, old ocean smiles. And while this famed emporium we prepare, M The British ocean shall such triumphs boast, That those who now disdain our trade to share, Sunk though he be beneath the wat'ry floor; Shall rob like pirates on our wealthy coast. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, DRYDEN. And yet anon uprears his drooping head. Nor silence is within, nor voice express, MILTON. But a deaf noise of sounds that never cease; The winds, with wonder whist, Confused and chiding, like the hollow roar Smoothly the waters kissd, Of tides receding from th' insulted shore. Whispering new joys to the mild ocean. DRYDEN. MILTON. The heaving tide Instantly I plunged into the sea, In widen'd circles beats on either side. And, buffeting the billows to her rescue, GAY. Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine. Cease, cease, thou foaming ocean: OTWAY. For what's thy troubled motion Whoe'er thou art, that fortune brings to keep To that within my breast? GAY. The rights of Neptune, monarch of the deep, Thee first it fits, O stranger, to prepare How call I fear to think on all The due libation, and the solemn prayer. The dangers thou must brave? POPE? My fears will deem each gale a storm While thou art on the wave. Relate, if business or the thirst of gain L. E. LANDON. Engage your journey o'er the pathless main, Where savage pirates seek, through seas unNay, there's a time when ev'n the rolling year known Seems to stand still: dead calms are in the The lives of others, vent'rous of their own. The lives of others, vent'rous of their own. ocean, When not a breath disturbs the drowsy main. LEE. I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find A river's mouth impervious to the wind. Sea-girt isles,POPE. That like to rich and various gems inlay The unadorned bosom of the deep. Safe in the love of heav'n, an ocean flows MILTON. Around our realm, a barrier from the foes. POPE. He makes a covenant never to destroy The earth again by flood, nor let the sea The third fair morn now blazed upon the main; Surpass his bounds. Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain. MIITON. POPE. 384 OCEA4NV. All unsustain'd between the wave and-sky, Make his chronicle as rich with prize Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly. As is the oozy bottom of the sea POPE. With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. Not Neptune's self from all his floods receives SHAKSPEARE A wealthier tribute than to thine he gives. For now I stand as one upon a rock, POPE. Environ'd with a wilderness of sea, Till the huge surge roll'd off, then backward Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave; sweep Expecting ever when some envious surge The refluent tides, and plunge into the deep. Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Now on the wings of wind our course we keep; The visitation of the wvinlds, The god hath smooth'd the waters of the deep. Who Lake the ruffian billows by the top, POPE. Curling their monstrous heads. A length of ocean and unbounded sky SHAKSPEARE. Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o'erfly. POPE The beachy girdle of the ocean, Too wide for Neptune's hips. So on the land while here the ocean gains, SHAKISPEARE. In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains. POPE. Timllon hath made his ever-lasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Here retired, the sinking billows sleep, Which, once a day, with his embossed froth And smiling calmness silver'd o'er the deep. The turbulent surge shall cover. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. But from the breezy deep the blest inhale The murmuring sulge, The fragrant murmurs of the western gale. That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, POPE. Cannot be heard so high. SHAKSPEARE. Do public or domestic cares constrain This toilsome voyage o'er the surgy main? Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up wvith winds, POPE. Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? SHAKSPEARE. Say, why should the collected main Itself within itself contain? Behold the English beach Behold the English beach Why to its caverns should it sometimes creep, Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys, And with delightful silence sleep Whose shouts and claps outvoice that deepOn the loved bosom of its parent deep? mouth'd sea. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. Vast and great Is what I love; the far-extended ocean Who swelling sails in Caspian sea doth cross, To a little riv'let I prefer. And in frail wood on Adrian gulf doth fleet, PRIOR. Doth not, I ween, so many evils meet. SPENSER. Take but degree away, the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, The rolling billows beat the rugged shore And make a sop of all this solid globe. As they the earth would shoulder from her seat. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. I'11 deliver all, From midst of all the main And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, The surging waters like a mountain rise. And sail expeditious. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. She seem'd still back unto the land to look, The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it And her playfellows' aid to call, and fear With lusty sinews; throwing it aside. The dashing of the waves. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. O CEAN. -OPPOR TUVITY- ORATOR:. 385 The bold encroachers on the deep ORATORY. Gain by degrees huge tracts of land, When with greatest art he spoke, Till Neptune, with one gen'ral sweep, You'd think he talk'd like other folk; Turns all again to barren stiand. For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools. Not to be shook thyself; but all assaults BUTLER: Hiudibras. Baffling, like thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave. Orators may grieve; for in their sides, THOMSON. Rather than in their heads, their faculty abides. Others may use the ocean as their road, SIR j. DENHAM. Only the English make it their abode; Studious to please the genius of the times, Whose ready sails with every wind can fly, With periods, points, and tropes he slurs his And make a cov'nant with th' inconstant sky. crimes; WALLER. He lards with flourishes his long harangue;'Tis fine, say'st thou; What? to be praised and So th' injured sea, which from her wonted To Course, hang? DRYDEN. To gain some acres, avarice did force, If the new banks, neglected, once decay, rWhile words of learned length and thund'ring No longer will from her old channel stay. sound WALLER. Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew Now shall the ocean, as thy Thames, be free, That one small head should carry all he knew. From both those fates and storms of piracy.GOLDSIITH: Deserted Village. WALLER. Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on reThe sea's our own; and now all nations greet, fining, With bending sails, each vessel of our fleet. And thought of convincing, while they thought WALLER. of dining. GOLDSMITH: Ret.aliation. What earth in her dark bowels could not keep Graced as thou art with all the power of words; From greedy man, lies safer in the deep. So known, so honour'd at the House of Lords. WALLER. POPE: on Mantsfield. OFPPORTUNITY. Imbrown'd with native bronze, lo! Henley stands, Tuning his voice and balancing his hands: The means that heaven yields must be embraced, How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue! And not neglected; else"if heaven would, How sweet the periods, neither "said" nor And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse, "sung"! POPE. The proffer'd means of succour and redress. SHAKRSPEARE. Immortal Tully shone, The Roman rostra deck'd the consul's throne; There is a tide in the affairs of men, Gath'ring his flowing robe he seem'd to stand, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; In act to speak, and graceful stretch'd his hand. Omitted, all the voyage of their life POPE. Is bound in shallows and in miseries:And'tis remarkable that they On such a full sea are we now afloat; Talk most that have the least to say. And we must take the current when it serves, Your daily speakers have the curse Or lose otur ventures. To plead their causes down to worse: SHAKSPEARE. As dames who native beauty want Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take Still uglier look the more they paint. That subtle Power, the never-halting time, PRIOR. Lest a mere moment's putting-off should make Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, Mischance almost as heavy as a crime. Inferring arguments of mighty force. WORDSWORTH. SHAKSPEARE. 25 386 ORDER. -PAIiVN. ORDER. Not chaos-like, together crush'd and bruised; If casual concourse did the world compose, But as the world, harmoniously confused: And things and hits fortuitous arose, Where order in variety we see, Then anything might come from anything; And where, though all things differ, they agree. For how from chance can constant order spring? POPE. SIR R. BLACKMORE. From whence th' innumerable race of things Set all things in their own peculiar place, By circular successive order springs. And know that order is the greatest grace. ROscOpMON. DRYDEN. And who but wishes to invert the laws The heavens themselves, the planets, and their Of order, sins against th' eternal cause. centre, POPE. Observe degree, priority, and place,.So from the first eternal order ran, Insisture, course, p'oportion, season, form,'And creature link'd to creature, man to man. Office, and custom, in all line of order. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. PAIN. Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof That fellowship in pain divides not smart,'Of night impatient, we demand the day; Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. The day arrives, then for the night we pray: MILTON. The night and day successive come and go; -Our lasting pains no interruption know. r lasting pains no interruption now. Who would not, finding way, break loose from SIR R. BLACKMORE. hell, hell, We can ne'er be sure And boldly venture to whatever place Whether we pain or not endure; Farthest fi-om pain? And just so far are sore and grieved MILTON. As by the fancy is believed. BUTLER: Hudirias3. How soon would ease recant Vows made in pain as violent and void! Our pains are real things, and all Our pleasures but fantastical; MILTON. Diseases of their own accord, But cures come difficult and hard. Is pain to them BUTLER: Hzdibras. Less pain, less to be fled? or thou than they Less hardy to endure? courageous chief! Cross to our interest, curbing sense and sin; The first in flight from pain. Oppress'd without, and undermined within, MILTON. It thrives through pain. DRYDEN. We no other painsou purchase pain with all that joy can give, We no other pains endure And die of nothing but a rage to live. Than those that we ourselves procure. POPE. DRYDEN. Sense of pleasure we may well O fatal search! in which the lab'ring mind, Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine; Still press'd with weight of woe, still hopes to But pain is perfect misery, the worst find Of evils; and, excessive, overturns A shadow of delight, a dream of peace, All patience. From years of pain one moment of release. MIILTON. PRIOR. PAINATIVG. 387 PAINTING.'Tis every painter's art to hide firom sight, And cast in shades, what seen would not delight. From the mingled strength of shade and light DRYDEN. A new creation rises to my sight; Such heavenly figures from his pencil flow, Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her shape, her So warm with life his blended colours glow, features, Amidst the soft variety I'm lost. Seem to be drawn by love's own hands, by love ADDISON. Himself in love. DRYDEN. Thou, Kneller, long with noble pride, The foremost of thy art, hast vied Thus pencils can, by one slight touch, restore With nature in a generous strife, Smiles to that changed face that wept before. And touch'd the canvas into life. DRYDEN. ADDISON. That sots and knaves should be so vain, Fain would I Raphael's godlike art rehearse, To wish that their remembrance may remain, And show th' immortal labours in my verse. And stand recorded, at their own request, ADDISON. To future days, a libel or a jest. DRYDEN. Did Raphael's pencil never choose to fall? Say, are his works transfigurations all? When absent, yet we conquer'd in his right; SIR R. BLACKMORE. For though that some mean artist's skill were shown As'tis a greater mystery, in the art In mingling colours or in placing light, Of painting, to foreshorten any part Yet still the fair dcsignment was his own. Than draw it out, so'tis in books the chief DRYDEN. Of all perfections to be plain and brief. BUTLER. Hard features every bungler can command; To draw true beauty shows a master's hand. When painters form a matchless face, DRYDEN. They from each fair one catch some different grace, Her pencil drew whate'er her soul design'd, And shining features in one portrait blend, And oft the happy draught surpass'd the image To which no single beauty must pretend. in her mind. CONGREVE: EpLil/ogne to th/e EWay of the World. DRYDEN. His pictured morals mend the mind, O that those lips had language 1 Life has pass'd the 0o~~~ tlAnd through the eye improve the heart. With me but roughly since I heard thee last. GARRI b GARRICK: on Bfob tr'/. COWPER: Receipt of my Afother's Picture. When sage Minerva rose, The master's hand, which to the life can trace From her sweet lips smooth elocution flows; The airs, the lines, the features of the face, Her skilful hand an iv'ry palette graced, PMay, with a free and holder strolke, express Where shining colours were in order placed. A varied posture, or a flatt'ring dress.GAY. SIR J. DENHAM. His pencil was striking, resistless. and grand; Rich with the spoils of many a conquer'd land, His manners were gentle, complying, and bland; All arts and artists Theseus could command, Still born to improve us in every part,Who sold for hire, or wrought for better fame; His pencil our faces, his manners our heart. The master painters and the carvers came. GOLDSMITH: Retaliation. DRYDEN. To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering, An hideous figure of their foes they drew, When they judged without skill, he was still hard Nor lines, nor looks, nor shades, nor colours of hearing; true, When they talk'd of their Raplhaels, Correggios, And this grotesque design exposed to public and stuff, view. He shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff. DRYDEN. GOLDSMITH: Retaliation. 388 PAINTINSG. A flattering painter, who made it his care Beauty, frail flow'r that every season fears, To draw men as they ought to be, not as they Blooms in thy colours for a thousand years. are. POPE. GOLDSMITH: Retaliatioz. Come! the colours and the ground prepare: Had Hyde thus sat by proxy too, Dip in the rainbow, trick her off in air; As Venus once was said to do, Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it The painter must have search'd the skies Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute. To match the lustre of her eyes. POPE. GRANVILLE. The portal shone, inimitable on earth Each heav'nly piece unwearied we compare, By model, or by shading pencil drawn. Match Raphael's grace with thy loved Guido's air. MILTON. a. POPE. Whether thy hand strike out some free design, Where life awakes and dawns at ev'ry line; The kindred arts shall in their praise conspire, Or blend in beauteous tints the colour'c mass, One cip the pencil, and one string the lyre. And from the canvas call the mimic face. POPE. POPE. When famed Farelst this little wonder drew, The faithful pencil has design'd Flora vouchsafed the growing work to view; Some bright idea of the master's mind, Finding the painter's science at a stand, Where a newx world leaps out at his command, The goddess snatch'd the pencil from his hand, And ready nature waits upon his hand. And, finishing the piece, she smiling said, POPE. Behold one work of mine that ne'er shall fade. With thee on Raphael's monument I mourn, PRIOR. Or wait inspiring dreams at Maro's urn. As masters in the dare-obscure POPE. With various light your eyes allure; Fair ideas flow, A flaming yellow here they spread, Strike in the sketch, or in the picture glow. Draw off in blue, or charge in red; POPE. Yet from these colours, oddly mix'd, Your sight upon the whole is fix'd. PRIOR. Her charms in breathing paint engage Her modest cheek shall'warm a future age. My own face deters me from my glass; POPE. And Kneller only shows what Celia was. When each bold figure just begins to live, PRIOR. The treach'rous colours the fair art betray,'Tis in life as'tis in painting: And all the bright creation fades away. Much may be right, yet much be Mwanting. POPE. PRIOR. Oh, lasting as those colours may they shine! From the soft assaults of love Free as thy stroke, yet faultless as thy line. Poets and painters never are secure: POPE. Can I, untouch'd, the fair one's passion move, Caracci's strength, Correggio's softer line, Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its pow'r? PRIOR. Paulo's free course, and Titian's warmth divine. POPE. Is she not more than painting can express, They random drawings from your sheets shall Or youthful poets fancy when they love? take, ROWE: P;rologfue to h'irt Penzitent. And of one beauty many blunders make. Painting is welcome: The painting is almost the natural man; Each by turns the other's bounds invade, For since dishonour traffics with man's nature, As, in some Nwell-wrought picture, light and He is but outside.: pencill'dl figures are shade. Ev'n such as they give out. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. PA IiVTING. PA RD ON. -PARENTS. 389 With his other hand thus o'er his brow, PARDON. He falls to such perusal of my face But infinite in pardon is my judge. As he would draw it. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. What better can we do than prostrate fall Like perspectives, which, rightly gazed upon, Before him reverent, and there confess Show nothing but confusion; eyed awry, iShow nothing but cosh fusio6; Humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears SHAPE)istiAREih forWat'ring the ground? SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. MILTON. Madam, if that your heart be so obdurate, These evils I deserve, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love. Yet despai ot of his final parn, SHARSPEARE. VYet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye What find I here? Gracious to readmit the suppliant. Fair Portia's counterfeit? What demi-god MILTON. Hath come so near creation? SHAKSPEARE. Here is her picture: let me see; PARENTS. If I had such a tire, this face of mine Were full as lovely as is this of-hers. Thy father's merit points thee out to view, SHAKSPEARE. And sets thee in the fairest point of light, To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous. ~~~~~If any such be here ADDISON. That love this painting, wherein you see me smear' d, But does not nature for the child prepare Let him express his disposition. Sei xr iHAdi sPEARE. nThe parent's love, the tender nurse's care? SHAKSPEARE. Who, for their own forgetful, seek his good, Poor painters oft with silly poets join Infold his limbs in bands, and fill his veins with To fill the world with strange but vain conceit; food. One brings the stuff, the other stamps the coin, SIR R. BLACKMORE. Which breeds nought else but glosses of deceit. SIR P. SIDNEY. If on my wounded breast thou drop a tear, Think for whose sake my breast that wound did The second room, whose walls bear; Were painted fair with memorable guests And faithfully my last desires fulfil, Of magistrates, of courts, of tribunals, As I perform ny cruel father's will. Of laws, of judgments, and of decretals. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Unkind and cruel, to deceive your son Ere yet thy pencil tries her nicer toils, E yty n tih o, In borrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun. Or on thy palette lie the blended oils, DRYDEN. Thy careless chalk has half achieved thy art, Anld her just image makes Cleora start. For the pious sire preserve the son; TICIKELL. His wish'd return with happy power befriend, Since after thee may rise an impious line, And on the suitors let thy wrath descend. Coarse manglers of the human face divine, POPE. Paint on, till fate dissolve thy mortal part, Me let the tender office long engage And live and die the monarch of thy art. To rock the cradle of reposing age, With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, The famous painter could allow no place Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of For private sorrow in a prince's face; death; Yet, that his piece might not exceed belief, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, He cast a veil upon supposed grief. And keep awhile one parent from the sky. WALLER. POPE. 390 PAR ENTS. -PAR IiTNG. Honour thy parents to prolong thine end; If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, With them, though for a truth, do not contend: Since upon night so sweet such awful morn Though all should truth defend, do thou lose could rise! rather BYRON: Czilde Harold. The truth awhile, than lose their love forever: To know, to esteem, to love-and then to part, Whoever makes his father's heart to bleed Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. Shall have a child that will revenge the deed. COLERiDGEF RANDOLPH. Then came the parting hour, and what arise And as much duty as my mother show'd When lovers part,-expressive looks, and eyes To you, preferring you before her father, Tender and fearful, —many a fond adieu, So much I challenge, that I may profess And many a call the sorrow to renew; Due to the Moor, my lord. Sighs such as lovers oihly can explain, And words that they might undertake in vain. I love him, friend; CRABBE: Tales of the I/all. No father his son dearer; true to tell thee, He sought by arguments to soothe her pain; The grief hath crazed my wits. Nor those avail'd: at length he lights on one: SHRAKSPEARE. "' Before two moons their orb with light adorn, I'm glad at soul I have no other child; If Heav'n allow me life, I will return!" For thy escape would teach me tyranny, DRYDEN. To hang clogs on them. " Farewell!" says he; the parting sound scarce SHAKSPEARE. fell The poor wren, From his faint lips, but she replied, " Farewell." The most diminutive of birds, will fight, DRYDEN. Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.. When thou art gone, there creeps into my heart SHARSPEARE. A cold and bitter consciousness of pain; - The light, the warmth of life with thee depart, PARTING. And I sit dreaming o'er and o'er again I never spoke the word " Farewell " Thy greeting clasp, thy parting look and tone; But with an utterance faint and broken; And suddenly I wake-and am alone: A heart-sick yearning for the time FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE. When it should never more be spoken. Oh! those are tears of bitterness, CAROLINE BOWLES. Wrung from the breaking heart, When two, blest in their tenderness, One struggle more, and I am free Must lean to live Must learn to live apart. From pangs that rend my heart in twain;.. LANDON. One last long sigh to love and thee, Then back to busy life again. With all my soul, then, let us part, BYRON. Since both are anxious to be free; But still her lips refused to say, " Farewell!" An I will send you home your heart, For in that word-that fatal word-howe'er If you will send back mine to me. MOORE. We promise-hope-believe-there breathes despair. Oh! wherefore dost thou soothe me with thy BYRON. softness? Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, Ald make this separation painful to us And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago ROWE: Lady 7ae Grey. Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; I part with thee And there were sudden partings, such as press As wretches that are doubtful of hereafter The life from out young hearts, and choking Part with their lives, unwilling, loath, and sighs fearful, Which ne'er might be repeated: who could And trembling at futurity. guess ROWE: Tamerlanze. PA4R TIYG. -PASSIONS. 391 Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time The wither'd frame, the ruin'd mind, Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love, The wreck by passion left behind; And ample interchange of sweet discourse, A shrivell'd scroll, a scatter'd leaf, Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell Sear'd by the autumn-blast of grief. upon: BYRON. God give us leisure for these rites of love! Alas! our young affections run to waste, Once more, adieu! Or water but the desert; whence arise SHAKSPEARE, But weeds of dark luxuriance, tares of haste, So long Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes, As he could make me with his eye or ear Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies, Distinguish him from others, he did keep And trees whose gums are passion; such the The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief, plants Still waving as the fits and stirs of his mind Which spring beneath her steps as passion flies Could best express how slow his soul sail'd O'er the world's wilderness, and vainly pants on,- For some celestial fruit, forbidden to our wants. How swift his ship. BYRON: Chiilde Harold. SHAKSPEARE. In the human breast Good-night, good-night! parting is such sweet Two master-passions cannot coexist. sorrow, CAMPBELL. That I shall say "' Good-night" till it be morrow. SHAKSPEARE. Men make resolves, and pass into decrees The motions of the mind: with how much ease, So sweetly she bade me "Adieu," In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw, I thought that she batde lme return. And bring to nothing what was raised to law! SHENSTONE: A Pasto/-al. CHURCHILL. All she did was but to wear out day: Some power impart the spear and shield Full ofteimimes she leave of him did take; At which the wizard passions fly, And oft again devised somewhat to say, By which the giant follies die. Which she forgot, whereby excuse to make; COLLINS. So loath was she his company for to forsake. O how the passions, insolent and strong, SPENSER. The last link is broken Bear our weak minds their rapid course along, That bound me to thee, Make us the madness of their will obey, And the words thou hast spoThen die, and leave us to our grief a prey. And the words thou hast spoken Have render'd me free. CRABBE. FANNY STEERS. Will holds the sceptre in the soul, Silence, in truth, would speak my sorrows best; And o'er the passions of the heart doth reign. For deepest wounds can least their feelings SIR J. DAVIES. tell; But if thy passions lord it in thy breast, Yet let me borrow from mine own unrest Art thou not still a slave? But time to bid him, whom I loved, Farewell! DRYDEN. WOTTON. What profits us that we from heaven derive A soul immortal, and with looks erect PASSIONS. Survey the stars, if, like the brutal kind, We follow where our passions lead the way? His passions and his virtues lie confused, DRYDEN. That the whole man is quite disfigured in him. Thus beginning, thus we persevere; ADDISON. Our passions yet continue what they were. Pardon a weak distemper'd soul that swells With sudden gusts, and sinks as soon in calms, The fire will force its outward way, The sport of passion. Qr, in the prison pent, consume the prey. ADDISON. DRYDEN. 392 PASSIONVS. I feel my virtue struggling in my soul: As fruits ungrateful to the planter's care, But stronger passion does its power control. On savage stocks inserted, learn to bear, DRYDEN. The surest virtues thus from passions shoot, Revenge succeeds to love) and rage to grief. Wild nature's vigour working at the root. DRYDEN. POPE: Essay on Alan. Exalted souls Passions, though selfish, if their means be fair, Have passions in proportion violent, List under reason, and deserve her care; Resistless, and tormenting: they're a tax Those that imparted court a nobler aim, Imposed by nature on pre-eminence; Exalt their kind, and take some virtue's name. And fortitude and wisdom must support them. POPE. LILLO: Elmerick. Like mighty rivers, with resistless force Take heed lest passion The passions rage, obstructed in their course, Sway thy judgment to do aught. MILTON. Swell to new heights, forbidden paths explore, To sorrow abandon'd, but worse felt within, And drown those virtues which they fed before. And in a troubled sea of passion tost. POPE. MILTON. May I govern my passions with absolute sway, Of good and evil much they argued then, And grow wiser and better as my strength wears Passion and apathy, and glory, and shame. away. MILTON. DR. W. POPE: The Old AMean's Wis/h. Alas! too well, too well they know Alas! too well, too well they know With anxious doubts, with raging passions torn; The pain, the penitence, the woe, No sweet companion near with whonl to mourn. That passion brings down on the best, PRIOR. The wisest, and the loveliest. MOORE: Loves of the An5gels. Passions are liken'd best to floods and streams; The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb: Search then the ruling passion: there aloneurmur, but the deep are dumb: So when affections yield discourse, it seems The wild are constant, and the cunning known; The bottom is but shallow whence they come. The fool consistent, and the false sincere; They that are rich in words must needs discover Priests, princes, women, no dissemblers here. They are but poor in that which makes a lover. POPE. SIR XV. RALEIGH. On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale. His soul, like bark with rudder lost, POPE. On passion's changeful tide was tost; Nor vice nor yirtue had the power In every breast there burns an active flame,- Beyond the impression of the hou Beyond the impression of the hour: The love of glory or the dread of shame. And O, when passion rules, how rare POPE. The hours that fall to virtue's share! The ruling passion, be it what it will, SIR W. SCOTT: Rokeby. The ruling passion conquers reason still. POPE. 0O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion I would shake the world, And hence one master-passion in the breast, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest. Which cannot hear a feeble lady's voice. POPE SHAKSPEARE. And you, brave Cobham! to the latest breath Being moody, give him line and scope, Shall feel your ruling passion strong in death. Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, POPE: Moral Essays. Confound themselves with working. Oft in the passions' wild rotation tost,SHAI(SPEARE. Our spring of action to ourselves is lost. To speak truth of Caesar, POPE. I have not known when his affections sway'd Passion can depress or raise More than his reason. The heavenly as the human mind. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. PA SSIONS. -PAST. 393 A little fire is quickly trodden out, Slaves to our passions we become, and then Which being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. It grows impossible to govern men. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. But his flaw'cl heart, The mind, when turn'd adrift, no rules to guide, Alack! too weak the conflict to support Drives at the mercy of the wind and tide;'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Fancy and passion toss it to and fro, Burst smilingly. Awhile torment, and then quite sink in woe. SHAKSPEA RE. YOUNG. Then'gan the Palmer thus: Most wretched man By thwarting passions tost, by cares oppress'd, That to affections does the bridle lend; He found the tempest pictured in his breast. In their beginning they are weak and wan, YOUNG. But soon through sufferance grow to fearful When reason, like the slkilful charioteer, end. Call break the fiery passions to the bit, SPENSER. And, spite of their licentious sallies, keep So hard these heavenly beauties be enfired, The radiant tract of glory, passions then As things divine least passions do impress; Are aids and ornaments. The more of steadfast minds to be admired, Brotzers. The more they stayed be on steadfastness. While passions glow, the heart, like heated SPENSER. steel, He in great' passion all this while did dwell, Takes each impression, and is work'd at pleasure. More busying his quick eyes her face to view, YOUNG: Basireis. Than his dull ears to hear what she did tell. SPENSER. And oft himself he chanced to hurt unwares, PAST. Whilst reason, blent through passion, naught How readily we wish'd time spent revoked, descried, That we might try the ground again, where But, as a blindfold bull, at random fares, once And where he hits, naught knows, and where Through inexperience, as we now perceive) he hurts, naught cares. We miss'd that happiness we might have found. SPENSER. COWVPER: Task. Who would the title of true worth were his, Former things Must vanquish vice, and no base thoughts con- Are set aside like abdicated kings; ceive: And every moment alters what is done, The bravest trophy ever man obtain'd And innovates some act till then unknown. Is that which o'er himself himself hath gain'c. DRYDEN. EARL OF STIRLING. The past is all by death possess'd, Your passion bends Ancl frugal fate, that guards the rest, Its force against your neatest friends; By giving bids us live to-day. Which manners, decency, and pride FENTON. Have taught you from the world to hide.'Tis impotent to grieve for what is past, SWIFT. And unavailing to exclaim. One passion, with a different turn, HAVARD: Scanderbeg. Makes wit inflame or anger burn: Ah, tell me not that memory So the sun's heat, with diff'rent pow'rs, Sheds gladness o'er the past; Ripens the grape, the liquor sours. What is recall'd by faded flowers, SWIFT. Save that they did not last? Ill-govern'd passions in a prince's breast L. E. LANDON. Hazard his private and the public rest. A life of glorious labours past. WALLER. POPE. 394 PAST. -PA T IENCE. Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears I see thou hast pass'd sentence on my heart; Fever'd the progress of these years, And I'll no longer weep, or plead against it, Yet now, days, weeks, and months but seem But with the humblest, most obedient patience, The recollection of a dream. Meet thy dear hands, and kiss them when they SIR W. SCOTT: zMarngion. wound me. OTWAY. Things without all remedy Should be without regard: What's done is done.'Tis all men's office to speak patience SHAKSPEARE. To those that wring under the load of sorrow; Let us not burthen our remembranBut no man's moral, when he shall endure The like himself: therefore give me no counsel; With a heaviness that's gone. My griefs are louder than advertisement. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. What's gone, and what's past help, What's gone, and what's past help, Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause; Should be past grief. ShodSHAIbsSPEt.E. (They can be meek that have no other cause:) A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, We hid be quiet when we hear it cry; And ask them what report they bore to heaven, But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, And how they might have borne more welcome As much, or more, we should ourselves coin news. lain plain. YO U N rG: Niighjt Tf o 3gh iUs. S SHAKSPEARE. Patience and sorrow strove PATIENCE. Which should express her goodliest: you have Patience in cowards is tame, hopeless fear; seen But in brave 1minds, a scorn of wvhat they bear. Sunshine and rain at once. Her smiles and tears DRYDEN. Were like a wetter May. SHAKSPEARE. Patience in want, and poverty of mind, These marks of church and churchmen be'These marls of church andi churchmen he do oppose my patience to his fury; and am arm'd design'd,.e.n',..To suffer with a quietness of spirit And living taught, and dying left behind. DRYDEN. The very tyranny and rage of his. SHAKSPEARE. Nothing but love this patience could produce; And I allow your rage that kind excuse. He was stirr'd, DRYDEN. And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty; But he fell to himself again, and swreetly For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill. t he fell to himself again, and sweetly DR. S. JOHNSON: In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. Vanity of Hziman Wishes. SHAKSPEARE. Patience is more oft the exercise A thousand more mischances than this one Of saints, the trial of their fortitude; Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently. Making them each his own deliverer, SHAKSIPEARE. And victor over all I Will with patience hear, and find a time: That tyranny or fortune can inflict. MILTON. Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this. SI-IASPEARE. Many are the sayings of the wise, Extolling patience as the truest fortitude. How poor are they who have not patience! MILTON. What wound did ever heal but by degrees? SHAKSPEARE. Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, Then, oh, you blessed ministers above! But live content, which is the calmest life: Keep me in patience; and, in ripen'd time, But pain is perfect misery, the worst Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up Of evils, and, excessive, overturns In countenance. All patience. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. PA TRIO TISM 395 Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, While Franklin's quiet memory climbs to heaven, Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. Calming the lightning which he thence hath SHAKSPEARE. riven, Or drawing from the no less kindled earth She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.' Freedom and peace to that which boasts his Smilngl at grief. SHAKSPEARE. birth; While Washington's a watchword, such as ne'er A leech, swhich had great insight Shall sink while there's an echo left to air. In that disease of grieved conscience, Age of Bronze. And well could cure the same: his name was Patience. And here and there some stern, high patriot SPENSER. stood, Patient of thirst and toil, Who could not get the place for which he sued. Son of the desert! even the camel feels, BYRON. Shot through his wither'd heart, the fiery blast. THOaISON. Nothing so sweete is as our countrie's earth, And joy of those from whom we claime our birth. PAT RIOTISM. CHAPMAN. The finf patriot there, Where is the stoic can his wrath appease WTho made the welfare of mankind his care, To see his country sick of Pym's disease; ADDISON.Shall know he conuerBy Scotch invasion to be made a prey To such pidwidgeon myrmidons as they? Who would not be that youth? What pity is it JOHN CLEAVELAND. That we can die but once to serve our country! ADDISON. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, tBy all their country's wishes blest! Ev'n the tongues of patriots,, When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Those sons of clamour, oft relax the nerve Returns to deck their hallo'l mould, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, Within the waLrlllth of favour'. She there shall dress a sweeter sod BROOKE: GzCstnlzs [/3sc. Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. Leonidas and Washington, By fairy hands their lknell is rung, Whose every battle-field is holy ground, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, undone; To bless the turf that wraps their clay; How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound! And Freedom shall awhile repair, While the mere victors may appall or stun To dwell, a weeping hermit, there. COLLINS. The servile and the vain, such names will be A watchword till the Future shall be free. Do but think how well the same he spends BYRdON. Who spends his blood his country to relieve. DANIEL. Yes, one-the first-the last-the bestThe Cincinnatus of the West, The passive gods behold the Greekls defile Whom envy dared not hate- Their temples, and abandon to the spoil Bequeathed the name of Washington, Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire To make men blush there was but one! To save a sinking town, involved in fire. BYRON. DRYDEN. For the life of a Fox, of a Chatham the death, Patliots, in peace, assert the people's right, What censure, what danger, what woe would I With noble stubbornness resisting might. brave! DRYDEN. Their lives did not end when they yielded their breath; Here patriots live, who, for their country's good, Their glory illumines the gloom of the grave. In fighting fields were prodigal of blood. BYRON. DRYDEN. 396 PA TR IO TIS.L She to her country's use resign'd your sword, No common object to your sight displays, And you, kind lover, took her at your word. But what with pleasure heaven itself surveys,DRYDEN. A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state. O, true descendant of a patriot line, Vouchsafe this picture of thyself to see. While Cato gives his little senate laws, DRYDEN. What bosom beats not in his country's cause? Who sees him act, but envies every deed? Pensions in private were the senate's aim; Who hears him groan, and does not wrish to And patriots for a place abandon'd fame. bleed? GARTH. POPE. Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey Here tears shall flow from a more gen'rous The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, cause;'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand. Such tears as patriots shed for dying laws. Between a splendid and a happy land. POPE. GOLLDSMITH. When our country's cause provokes to arms, Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam: How martial music every bosom warms! His first, best country ever is his own. POPE. GOLDSMITH: X9'avef/e. Once, we confess, beneath the patriot's cloak, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, From the crack'd bag the dropping guinea spoke, Alid read their history in a nation's eyes. And jingling down the back-stairs, told the GRAY: Eleg, y. crew, Old Cato is as great a rogue as you. All private virtue is the public f~und: POPE. As that abounds, the state decays or thrives: Each should contribute to the general stock, Here rising bold the patriot's honest face; And who lends most is most his country's friend. There warriors frowning in historic brass. JEPHSON: Biroa-anza. POPE. Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, That, from a patriot of distinguish'dl note, And ask no questions but the price of votes. Have bled and purged me to a simple vote. DR. JOHNSON: Vzoziy of fzivanlz Wishes. POPE. Those that by their deeds will make it known In vain my heroes fight, and patriots rave, Whose dignity they do sustain; If secret gold saps on from knave to knave. And life, state, glory, all they gain, POPE. Count the republic's, not their own. A patriot is a fool in every age, BEN JONSON. Whom all lord chamberlains allow the stage. The wretched have no country; that dear name POPE. Comprises home, kind kindred, fostering friends, Protecting laws, all that binds man to man: Julius with honour tmed Rome's freig foes; But none of these are mine: I have no country. But patriots fell, ere the dictator rose. MATURIN: Bertram. PRIOR. That grounded maxim, Faithful assertor of thy country's cause, So rife and celebrated in the mouths Britain with tears shall bathe thy glorious Of wisest men, that to the public good wounds. Private respects must yield. PRIOR. MILTON. Have we soon forgot " Land of song!" said the warrior bard, When, like a matron butcher'd by her sons "Though all the world betray thee, Anid cast beside some common way, a spectacle One sword at least thy rights shall guard, Of horror and affi-ight to passers-by, One faithful harp shall praise thee!" Our groaning country bled at every vein? MOORE. ROWE. PA TRIO TISi. -PA TER ONAV G-E. -PEA CE. 397 Breathes there a man with soul so dead The patriot virtues that distend thy thought, Who never to himself hath said, Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow. This is my own, my native land! THOMSON. Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, But when your troubled country call'd you forth. As home his footsteps he hath turn'd Your flaming courage, and your matchless worth, From wandering onl a foreign strand? To fierce contention gave a prosp'rous end. SCOTT: Lay of th/e Last liinstrel.WALLER. I'd love Treading the path to noble ends, My country's good, with a respect more tender, long farewell to love I gave; More holy and profound than mine own life, Resolved my country and my friends IM~y dear wife's estimate. All that remain'd of me should have. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER, Meet we the med'cine of our country's weal, And with him pour we, in our country's purge, Each drop of us. PATRONAGE. SHAKSPEARE. All feed on one vain patron, and enjoy Our country sinks beneath the yoke; Th' extensive blessing of his luxury. It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash POPE. Is added to her wounds. SHAIKSPEARE. Gazettes sent gratis down, and frank'd, For which thy patron's weekly thank'd. I would he had continued to his country POPE.. As he began, and not unknit himself The noble knot he made. Then shall thy Craggs (and let me call him SHAKSPEARE. mine) On the cast ore another Pollio shine; Their complot is to have my life: With aspect open shall erect his head. And, if my death might make this island happy, With aspect open shall erect his POPE. POPE. And prove the period of their tyranny, I would expend it with all willingness. I would expend it with all willingness. There narch'd the bard and blockhead, side y SHAKSPEARE. side, This was hk ohlet Rmanof tem ll: Who rhymed for hire, and patronized for pride. This was the noblest Roman of them all: POPE. All theonspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cesar; The one lives her age's ornament, He only in a general honest thought, That with rich bounty, and dear cherishment, And common good of all, made one of them. Supports the praise of noble poesie. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. A patriot's is'a dangerous post, When wanted by his country most; PEACE. Perversely com6s in evil times, When virtues are imputed crimes. His calm and blameless life SWIFT. Does with substantial blessedness abound, And the soft wings of peace cover him round. O thou! by whose almighty nod the scale COWLEY. Of empire rises, or alternate fails, Send forth the saving virtues round the land How strangely active are the arts of peace, In bright patrol. Whose restless motions less than wars do cease; THOMSON. Peace is not freed from labour, but from noise; While in the radiant front superior shines And war more force, but not more pains, enm That first paternal virtue, public zeal; ploys. Who throws o'er all an equal wide survey, And, ever musing on the common weal, This discord is complete, nor can they cease Still labours glorious with some great design. The dire debate, nor yet command the peace. THOMSON: Seasonzs. DRYDEN. 398 PEA CE. They go, commission'd to require a peace, You, my lord archbishop, And carry presents to procure access. Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd, DRYDEN. Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd, Now then be all thy mighty cares away, Whose learning and good letters peace hath Thy jealousies and fears; and, while you may, tutor'd To peace and soft repose give all the day. Whose white investments figure innocence, Whose white investments figure innocence, DRYDEN. The dove, and every blessed'spirit of peace;'Tis less to conquer, than to make wars cease, Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself And, without fighting, awe the world to peace. Out of the speech of peace, that bears such HALIFAX. grace, Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war? Men are unhappy when they know not how SHAKSPEARE. To value peace without its loss, And from the want learn how to use We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, What they could so ill manage when enjoy'd. To hold your slaughtering hands, and keep the SIR R. HOWARD: Blind Lady. peace. SHAKSPEA RE. Cease, then, this impious rage; But he, her fears to cease, I After the slaughter of so many peers, Sent down the meek-eyed peace. MILTON. Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace? SHAKSPEARE. Waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes an universal peace through sea and But how the fear of us land. May cement their divi'sions, and bind up MILTON. The petty difference, we yet not know. To find a foe it shall not be his hap, SHAKSPEARE. And peace shall lull him in her flow'ry lap. She had all the regal makings of a queen, MILTON. As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, Now no more the drum The rod and bird of peace, and all such emProvokes to arms, or trumpet's clangour shrill blems, Affrights the wives, or chills the virgin's blood. Laid nobly on her. JOHN PHILIPS. SHAKSPEARE. Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, Peace, And white-robed innocence from heaven de- Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful birth. SHAKSPEARE. scePOd. POPE. Honour and policy, like unsever'd.friends No more shall nation against nation rise, I' th' war, do grow together; grant that, and Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes. tell me, POPE. In peace what each of them by th' other loses, That they combine not there? The trumpets sleep, while cheerful horns are SHAKSPEARE. blown, And arms employ'd on birds and beasts alone. Cheerly on, courageous friends! POPE. To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war. How sweet the products of a peaceful reign! SHAKSPEARE. The heaven-taught poet and enchanting strain; Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, The well-fill'd palace, the perpetual feast, To silence envious tongues. A land rejoicing, and a people blest. SHASPEARn. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. Cease In hei days ev'ry man shall sing To know, what known will violate thy peace. The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. PE OPLE.-PERFE CTION. -PERSE VERANCE. 399 Lovely concord and most sacred peace PERSEVERANCE. Doth nourish virtue, and fast friendship If aught obstruct thy course, yet stand not still, breeds; But windabout till thou hast topp'd the hill. Weak she makes strong, and strong things does SIR J. DENHAM. increase, Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds. Perseverance SPENSE:R. Keeps honour bright. To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion. like a rusty mail Oh, first of human blessings! and supreme! In monumental mockery. Fair peace! how lovely, how delightful thou! SHAKSPEARE. By whose wide tie the kindred sons of men Iold you ever to our special drift; Live, brothers like, in amity combined, Though sometimes you do blench from this to And unsuspicious faith; while honest toil that Gives every joy, and to those joys a right As cause doth minister. Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps. SHAKSPEARE. THoMSON: Britannia. He plies her hard, and much rain wears the ----— ~o~<> —- marble. SHAKSPEARE. PEOPLE. The people like a headlong torrent go, And every dam they break or overflow; PERVERSENESS. But unopposed they either lose their force, Virtue hath softie perverseness; for she will Or wind in volumes to their former course. Neither believe her good nor others' ill. DRYDEN. DONNE. The perverseness of my fate is such, Thus think the crowd, who, eager to engage, That he's not mine, because he's mine too much. Take quickly fire,. and kindle into rage; DRDEN DRYDEN. Who ne'er consider, but without a pause Make up in passion what they want in cause. Her whom he wishes mdst shall seldom gain, DRYDEN. Through her perverseness, but shall see her Away! ye scum, gain'd That still rise upmost when the nation boils; By a far worse. MILTON. That have but just enough of sense to know When a friend in kindness tries The master's voice, when rated to depart. To show you where your error lies, DRYDEN. Conviction does but more incense; That hot-mouth'd beast that bears against the Perverseness is your whole defence. curb, SWIFT. Hard to be broken even by lawful kings. DRYDEN. PHILOSOPHY. Greece did at length a learned race produce, PERFECTION. Who needful science mock'd, and arts of use; Many things impossible to thought Mankind with idle subtilties embroil, Have been by need to full perfection brought. And fashion systems with romantic toil. DRYDEN. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Who durst thy faultless figure thus deface? Nothing goes for sense o? light DRYDEIN~. That will not with old rules jump right; As if rules were not in the schools Whoevelr thinks a perfect worlk to see Derived from truth, but truth from rules. Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be. BUTLER: Izdibas. POPE. Besides, he was a shrewd philosopher, It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect And had read ev'ry text and gloss over; That will confess perfection so could err Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath, Against all rules of nature. He understood b' implicit faith. SHAKSPEARE. BUTLER: fuddib-ans. 400 PHIL OS OPHY For he a rope of sand could twist They, gilding dirt in noble verse, As tough as learned Sorbonist, Rustic philosophy rehearse. And weave fine cobwebs fit for skull SIR J. DENHAMI. That's empty nwhen the moon is ~full. This is what nature's want may well suffice; BUTLER: ]:idibras. He that would more is covetous, not wise; If that I did not know philosophy But since among mankind so few there are To be of all our vanities the motliest, Who will conform to philosophic fare, The merest word that ever fool'd the ear This much I will indulge thee for thy ease, From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem And mingle something of our times to please. The golden secret, the sought "Kalon," found, DRYDEN. And seated in mlBy soul. ON Mb/fe. They all our famed philosophers defy, And would our faith by force of reason try. Welcome, great Stagirite, and teach me now DRYDEN. All I was born to know; I wscholar' vitor thou; Divine philosophy! by whose pure light Thy scholar's victories thou dost outdo; We first distinguish, then pursue the right; He conquer'd th' earth, the whole world you.stngush then pursue the rght; COCWLEY. Thy power the breast from every error frees, And weeds out all its vices by degrees. Much learned dust GIFFORD: Iuvenal. Involves the combatants, each claiming truth, And truth disclaiming both. And thus they Managed by rules of strict philosophy. Managecd by rules of strict philosophy. SIR ROBERT HOWARD. The little wick of life's poor shallow lamp In playing tricks with nature, giving laws They give the reins to wand'ring thoughts, To distant worlds, and trifling in their own. Till, by their own perplexities involved, COWPER: Task. They ravel more, still less resolved, Exalted Socrates! divinely brave! But never find self-satisfying solution. Iljured he fell, and dying he forgave; MILTON. Too noble for revenge. Of good and evil much they argued then, Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy. No crazed brain could ever yet propound, MILTON. Touching the soul, so vain and fond a thought, Others in virtue placed felicity: But some among these masters have been found The Stoic last in philosophic pride, Which in their schools the self-same thing had By him call'd virtue, and his virtuous man taught. Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing. SIR J. DAVIES. MILTON. No heretics desire to spread That stone Their light opinions like these epicures; Philosophers in vain so long have sought. For so their stagg'ring thoughts are comforted, MILTON. And other men's assent their doubt assures. False philosophy inspires SIR J. DAVIES. Fallacious hope. MILTON. But now these Epicures begin to smile, And say, my doctrine is more safe than true; Causes according still And that I fondly do myself beguile, To the reception of their matter act, While these received opinions I ensue. Not to the extent of their own sphere. SIR J. DAVIES. MILTON. From things particular How charming is divine philosophy! She dloth abstract the universal kinds. Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, SIR J. DAVIES. But musical as is Apollo's lute, Some minute philosophers pretend And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, That with our days our pains and pleasures end. Where no crude surfeit reigns. SIR J. DENHAM. MILTON: CoMts. PHIL OS OPHY 40 I Let my lamp at midnight hour Democritus, dear droll! revisit earth, Be seen in some high lonely tow'r, And with our follies glut thy heighten'd mirth. Where I may oft outwatch the bear, PRIOR. with thrice great Hermes; or unsphere With thrice great Hermes; or unsphere I pray thee, peace! I will be flesh and blood; The spirit of Plato, to unfold For there was never yet philosopher What worlds or what vast regions hold That could endure the toothache patiently, Th' immortal mind. MILTON: i Pensersoso. I ~However they have writ the style of gods, And made a pish at chance and sufferance. Such was the rigid Zeno's plan SHAKSPEARE. To form his philosophic man; Hang up philosophyv Such were the modes he taught manldnd Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, To weed the garden of the mind: Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom; They tore away some weeds,'tis true, It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more! But all the flow'rs were ravish'd too. SHAKSPEARE. While we do admire Groves where immortal sages taught, GrveWhere.viimortaPlsagofire taThis virtue and this moral discipline, Where heav'nly visions Plato fired. POPE. Let's be no stoics nor no stocks. SHAKSPEARE. Saved by spice, like mummies, many a year, Old bodies of philosophy appear. I'm glad you thus continue your resolve POPE. To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy. SHAKSPEARE. Philosophy, that touch'd the heav'ns before, Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more. There are more things in heaven and earth, POPE. Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. In vain the grave, with retrospective eye, SHAKSPEARE. Would from th' apparent what conclude the why. As rivers, though they bend and twine, POPE. Still to the sea their course incline; In lazy apathy let Stoics boast Or as philosophers, who find Their virtue fix'd;'tis fixed as in frost, Some fav'rite system to their mind, Contracted all, retiring to the breast; In ev'ry point to make it fit But strength of mind is exercise, not rest. Will force all nature to submit. POPE. SWIFT. The mind, in metaphysics, at a loss, Nature's fair table-book, our tender souls, May wander in a wildeiness of moss; We scrawl all o'er with old and empty rules, The head that turns at superlunar things, Stale memorandums of the schools. Poised with a tail, may steer on Wilkins' wings. SWIFT. POPE. Ned is in the gout,All the volumes of philosophy, Lies rack'd with pain, and you without; With all their comments, never could invent How patiently you hear him groan! So politic an instrumlPent. How glad the case is not your own! SWIFT. The scholars of the Stagirite, Who for the old opinion fight, Philosophy consists not Would make their modern firiends confess In airy schemes, or idle speculations: The diff'rence but from more to less. The rule and conduct of all social life PRIOR. Is her great province. THOMSON. Let the silent sanctuary show What from the babbling schools we. may not Here, awful Newton, the dissolving clouds know. Form, fronting on the sea, thy showery prism. PRIOR. THOMSON. 26 402 PHYSIZC. Let Newton, pure intelligence, whom God A sparing diet did her health assure; To mortals lent, to trace his boundless works Or sick, a pepper posset was her cure. From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame DRYDEN. In all philosophy. Inal- lTHOMhSONp. rThe ready cure to cool the raging pain, Is underneath the foot to breathe a vein. For still the world prevail'd, and its dread DRYDEN. laugh, Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn, A desperate wound must skilful hands employ, Should his heart own a gleaner in the field. But thine is curable by Philip's boy. THOMSON. DRYDEN. *Their minds are richly fraught Let the learn'd begin With philosophic stores.' Th' enquiry, where disease could enter in: THOMSON. How those malignant atoms forced their way, What in the faultless frame they found to make PHYSIC. their prey? DRYDEN.'Hence sprouting plants enrich the plain and wood; Nor will the raging fever's fire abate wood; With golden canopies and beds of state; For physic some, and some design'd for food. With golden canopies and beds of state; SIR R. BLACKMORE. But the poor patient will as soon be found On the hard mattress or the mother ground.,Convulsions rack man's nerves, and cares his DRYDEN. breast; All soft'ning simples, knoWD of sovereign use, His flying life is chased by rav'ning pains All soft'ning simples, known of sovereign use,'Through all his doubles in the winding veins. lhe presses out, and pours their noble juice; SIR R. BLACKMORE. These first infused, to lenify the pain, He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain.:Seek out for plants and signatures DRYDEN.'To quack of universal cures. BUTLER: Hudibmras. With laxatives preserve your body sound, And purge the peccant humours that abound. Wounds by wider wounds are heal'd,DRYDEN. And poisons by themselves expell'd. BUTLER: zifdibr-as. Watch the disease in time; for when within The dropsy rages and extends the skin, fCall her the metaphysics of her sex, In vain for hellebore the patient cries, And say she tortures wits, as quartans vex. And fees the doctor; but too late is wise. JOHN CLEAVELAND. DRYDEN. A hectic fever hath got hold A poet must confess (Of the whole substance, not to be controll'd. His art's like physic, but a happy guess. DONNE. DRYDEN. Of simples in these groves that grow, A look so pale no qualtan ever gave: We'll learn the perfect Skill; Thy dwindled legs seem crawling to the grave. The nature of each herb to know, DRYI)EN. Which cures, and which can kill. DRYDEN. The throttling quinsey'tis my star appoints, And rheumatisms I send to rack the joints. lie'scapes the best, who nature to repair DRYDEN. Draws physic from the fields in draughts of vital air. But chaste Diana, who his death deplored, DRYDEN. With Asculapian herbs his life restored.'They lanced a vein, and watch'd returning DRYDEN. breath; When men in sickness ling'ring lie, It came, but clogg'd with symptoms of his They count the tedious hours by months and death. years. DRYDEN. DIRYDEN. .PH YSIC. -PHYSICIA VS. 403 When nature cannot work, th' effect of art is There are a crew of wretched souls void: That stay his cure; their malady convinces For physic can but mend our crazy state, The great essay of art. Patch an old building, not a new create. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN.'Tis time to give them physic, their diseases Thrice happy were those golden days of old, Are grown so catching. When dear as Burgundy the ptisans sold; When patients chose to die with better will, Before the curing of a strong disease, Than breathe and pay the apothecary's bill. Ev'n in the instant of repair and health, GARTH. The fit is strongest: evils that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil. So Huron leeches, when their patient lies SItAKSPEARE. In feverish restlessness with unclosed eyes, Apply with gentle strokes their osier rod, So sick I am not, yet I am not well; And tap by tap invite the sleepy god. —-- But not so citizen a wanton as WALTER HARTE. To seem to die ere sick. SHAKSPEARE. In requital ope his leathern scrip, And showy me simples of a thousand names, What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug And show thee smpl es of a thousand n ames, Telling their strange and vigorous faculties. Would scour these English hence? Hearest thou of them? SHAKSPEARE. Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb Dire inflamation, which no cooling herb Life and long health that gracious ointment gave, Nor medicinal liquor can assuage. M MILTON. And deadly wounds could heal, and rear again The senseless corpse appointed for the grave. The disease, that shall destroy at length, SPENSER. Grows with his growth, and strengthens with his strength. POPE. From stagnating preserves the flood, Which, thus fermenting by degrees, His pills as thick as hand-grenados flew, Which, thus fermenting by degrees, Exalts the spirits, sinks the lees. And where they fell as certainly they slew. SWIFT., ROSCOMMON. I see her taste each nauseous draught, Thou, best of gold, art worst of gold; And so obligingly am caught; Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, I bless the hand from whence they came, Preserving life in ned'cine potable: Nor dare distort my face for shame. But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most re- SWIFT. nown' d, Hast eat thy bearer up. SHAKSPEARE. PHi-I YSICIA NS. Within the infant rind of this small flower Of graduates I dislike the learned rout, Poison hath residence, and medicine power. And choose a female doctor for the gout. SHAKSPEARE. BRA-IMSTON. All blest secrets, Learn'd he was in med'c'nal lore; All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, For at his side a pouch he wore Be aidant and remediate. eaSHAKSPEARE. andReplete with strange hermetic powder, That wounds nine miles point-blank would Those drugs she has solder. Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile. BUTLER: HLiuibras. SHAKSPEARE. Physicians mend or end us, The moon, the. governess of floods, Secundum artem: -but although we sneer Pale in her anger, washes all the air, In health,-when sick, we call them to attend us, That rheumatic diseases may abound. Without the least propensity to jeer. SHAKSPEARE. BYRON. 404 PHYSICIANS. The surest road to health, say what they will, Garth, gen'rous as his muse, prescribes and Is never to suppose we shall be ill. gives; Most of those evils we poor mortals know The shopman sells, and by destruction lives. From doctors and imagination flow. DRYDEN. CHURCHILL. Wise leeches will not vain receipts obtrude With hearts affected, but with looks serene, While growing pains pronounce the humours Intent they wait through all the solemn scene, crude: Glad if a hope should rise from nature's strife, Deaf to complaints, they wait upon the ill To aid their skill and save the lingering life; Till some safe crisis authorize their slill. But this must virtue's generous effort be, DRYDEN. Anld spring fronm nobler motives than a fee: The second causes took the swift command, To the physicians of the soul, and these, The medicinal head, the ready hand; Tu~rn the distress'd for safety and for peace. All but eternal doom was conquer'd by their art. CRABBE BorotgSfh. DRYDEN From powerful causes spring th' empiric's gains, Physic is their bane: Man's love of life, his weakness, and his pains; The learned leeches in despair depart, These first induce him the vile trash to try, And shake their heads, desponding of their art. Then lend his name that other men may buy. DRYDEN. CRABBE: BolooUg'h. So lived our sires, ere doctors learn'd to kill, Some artist, whose nice hand And multiplied with heirs their weekly bill. Couches the cataracts, and clears his sight, DRYDEN. And all at once a flood of glorious light They mix a med'cine, to foment their limbs, Comes rushing on his eyes. JOHN DENNIS. With scum that on the molten silver swims. DRYDEN. The first physicians by debauch were made; Excess began and sloth sustains the trade. The circling streams, once thought but pools of By chase our long-lived fathers earn'd their food; blood, Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood From dark oblivion Harvey's name shall save. But we their sons, a pamper'd race of men, DRYDEN. Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. A spark, like thee, of the man-killing trade, Better to hunt in fields for health unbought Fell sick, and thus to his physician said: Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. Methinks I am not right in ev'ry part, The wise for cure on exercise depend: I feel a kind of trembling at my heart. God never made his work for man to mend. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Each proselyte would vote his doctor best, \Wand'ring in the dark, With absolute exclusion to the rest. Physicians, for the tree, have found the bark; DRYDEN. They, lab'ring for relief of human kind, Those lives they fail'cl to rescue by their skill, With sharpen'd sight some remedies may find; The apotecary train i;swolly heind ay f; Their muse would make immortal with her quill. The apothecary train is wholly blind: From files a random recipe they take, And many deaths of one prescription make. Physicians with their milky cheer DRYDEN. The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair. GAY. To'pothecaries let the learn'd prescribe, That men may die without a double bribe; Garth, faster than a plague destroys, restores. Let them, but under their superiors, kill, GRANVILIE. When doctors first have sign'd the bloody bill. For great the man, and useful without doubt, DRYDEN. Who seasons pottage, or expels the gout; What crowds of patients the town doctor kills, Whose science keeps life in, and keeps death Or how last fall he raised the weekly bills. out. DRYDEN. WALTER HARTE. PH YSICIAS. -PITY 405 Each herb he knew that works or good or ill, How he solicits heav'n More learn'd than Meave, half as learn'd as Hill. Himself best knows; but strangely visited WALTER HARTE. people, Modern'pothecaries, taught the art The mere despair of surgery, he cures. I,~~~~~~~ ~~~SHAKSPEARE. By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part, Bold in the practice of mistaken rules, I do remember an apothecary,Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools. And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted, POPE. In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, So when small humours gather to a gout, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks; The doctor fancies he has driv'n them out. Sharp misery had rworn him to the bones. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Weak though I am of limb, and short of sight, About his shelves Far from a lynx, and not a giant quite, A beggarly account of empty boxes, I'll do what Mead and Cheselden advise, Green earthen pots, bladders, and empty seeds, To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes. Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, POPE. Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show. SHAKSPEARE. Friend to my life, which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song. Then comes rosy health from her cottage of POPE: Epistle to Dr. Arbut/Szot. thatch, Where never physician hath lifted the latch. You tell your doctor that you're ill; SMART. And what does he but write a bill? Of which you need but read one letter: Then with some cordials seek for to appease The scrawl the worse, the dose the better. The inward languor of my wounded heart, For if you knew but what you take, And then my body shall have shortly ease: Though you recover, he must break. But such sweet cordials pass physician's art. - PRIOR. SPENSER. Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician Thus Lamb, renown'd for cutting corns Eludes the urn, and chains or exiles death. An offerd fee fionn Radcliffe scorns. PRIOR. SWIFT. For while unhurt, divine Jourdain, The doctors, tender of their fame, Thy work and Seneca's remain, Wisely on me lay all the blame: Thou keep'st his body, they his soul, "We must confess his case was nice, He lives and breathes, restored and whole. But he would never take advice." PRIOR. SWIFT. The hoary wrinkled leech has watch'd and toil'd,PITY. Tried every health-restoring herb and gum, Pity is sworn servant unto love, And wearied out his painful sliill in vain. ROWE. And this be sure, wherever it begin To make the way, it lets the master in. Trust not the physician: DANIEL: Asradic. His antidotes are poisons, and he slays More than you rob. We must those who groan beneath the weight SHAKSPEARE. Of age, disease, or want commiserate. SIR J. DENhIAMI. If thou could'st, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, Nature has cast me in so soft a mould And purge it to a sound and pristine health, That but to hear a story, feign'd for pleasure, I would applaud thee to the very echo, Of some sad lover's death, moistens my eyes, That should applaud again. And robs me of my manhood. SHAKSPEAR:-. DRYDEN. 406 PITY-PLEASURE. Th' Almighty cast a pitying eye: If ever you have look'd on better days; H-e saw the towns one-half in rubbish lie. If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church; DRYDEN. If ever sat at any good man's feast; If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, The strange reverse of fate you see: And know what'tis to pity and be pitied; I pitied you, now you may pity me. DRYDEN. pLet gentleness my strong enforcement sue. SHAKSPEARE. Nor wept his fate, nor cast a pitying eye, A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows, Nor took himl down, but brush'd regardless by. Who by the art of known and feeling sorrows DRYLDEN. Am pregnant to good pity. SHAKSPEARE. He falls, he fills the house with heavy groans, Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans. Losses DRYDEN. Enough to press a royal merchant down, And pluck commiseration of his state Let merit crowns, and justice laurels give, From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint. But let me happy by your pity live. SIJKSPeARE. DRYDEN. He raised a sigh so piteous and profound, Pity only on fresh objects stays, That it did seem to shatter all his bulk, But with the tedious sight of woes decays. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Unhelp'd I am, who pitied the distress'd, My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, And, none oppressing, am by all oppress'd. My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. And, touch'd with miseries myself have known, Soft pity never leaves the gentle breast I learn to pity woes so like mWhere love has been received a welcome guest; I learn to pity woes so like my own. DRYDEN. As wandering saints poor huts have blessed made, First she relents made, He hallows every heart he once has sway'd,'With pity, of that pity then repents. And when his presence we no longer share, Still leaves compassion as a relic there. Brand not their actions with so foul a name; SHERIDAN. Pity, at least, what we are forced to blame. Yet to augment the anguish of my smart, DRYDE.N. Thou hast enfrozen her disdainful breast, Silnce my inevitable death you k~now, I That no one drop of pity there doth rest. You safely unavailing pity show. SPENSER. DRYDEN. Indiffrence, clad in wisdom's guise, The mighty master smiled to see All fortitude of mind supplies; That love was in the next degree: For how ca stony bowels melt'Twas but a Ikindred sound to move, In those who never pity felt? SWIFT. For pity melts the mind to love. DRYDEN. None pities him that's in the snare, PLEASURE. And, warn'd before, would not beware. But pleasures are like poppies spread,HERRICK. You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow-fall in the river,A common pity does not love express; A moment white, then melts forever. Pity is love when grown into excess. BURNS: Tamn O'Sanzter. SIR R. HOWARD. Though sages may pour out their wisdom's Whence, feeble nature! shall we summon aid, treasure, If by our pity and our pride betray'd? There is no sterner moralist than pleasure. PRIOR. BYRON. PL EA S URE. 407 T-rue courtiers should be modest, and not nice; Stand before her in a golden dream; Bold, but not impudent; pleasure love, not vice. Set all the pleasures of the world to show, GEORGE CHAPMAN. And in vain joys let her loose spirits flow. DRYDEN.'Tis time short pleasure now to take, Of little life the best to make, Leave for a while thy costly country-seat; And manage wisely the last stake. And to be great indeed, forget COWL EY. The nauseous pleasures of the great. And while the face of outward things we find DRYDEN. Pleasant and fair, agreeable and sweet, My tender age in luxury was train'd, These things transport. TSIRa Jhs. DAVIES. With idle ease and pageants entertain'd; SIR J. DAVIES. My hours my own, my pleasures unrestrain'd. He heard a grave philosopher maintain DRYDEN. That all the actions of our life were vain'Tis pleasant safely to behold from shore Which with our sense of pleasure not conspired. SIR J. DENHAM. The rolling ships, and hear the tempest roar; SIR J. DENHAM. Not that another's pain is our delight, Though divine Plato thus of pleasure thought,- But pains unfelt produce the pleasing sight. They us with hooks and baits, like fishes, DRYDEN. caught. SIR J. DENHAM. What pleasure can there be in that estate Which your unquietness has made me hate? Their cheerful age with honour youth attends, DRYDEN. Joy'd that from pleasure's slavery. they are free. SIR J. DENHAM. From those great cares when ease your soul unbends, What subtile witchcraft man constrains Your pleasures are design'd to noble ends. To change his pleasure into pains? DRYDEN. SIR J. DENHAM. For every want that stimulates the breast But pause, my soul! and study, ere thou fall Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest. On accidental joys, th' essential. GOLDSMITH. Still before accessories do abide A trial, must the principal be tried. Who mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom DONNE. with mirth. Pleasure has been the business of my life, GOLDSMITH: Retalition. And every change of fortune easy to me, Acquit thee bravely, play the man: Because I still was easy to myself. DRYeI)EN. Look not on pleasures as they come, but go: Defer not the last virtue: life's poor span Pleasure with instruction should be join'd: Makes not an ell by trifling in thy woe. So take the corn, and leave the chaff behind. GEORGE HERBERT. DRYDEN. Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found, To argue in thee something more sublime And all Elysium in a spot of ground. And excellent than what thy mind contemns. DRYDEN. MILTON. Then no day void of bliss, of pleasure, leaving, Judge not what is best Ages shall slide away without perceiving. By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet; DRYDEN. Created as thou art to nobler end, Holy and pure, conformity divine! Opposed to her, on t'other side advance MILTON. The costly feast, the carol, and the dance, Minstrels and music, poetry and play, Earth hath this variety from heav'n, And balls by night, and tournaments by day. Of pleasure situate in hill and dale. DRYDEN. MILTON. 408 PL EA S URE. We may roam through this world like a child at Pleasure that comes unlook'd for is thrice a feast, welcome; Who but sips of a sweet, and then flies to the And if it stir the heart, if aught be there rest, That may hereafter in a thoughtful hour And when pleasure begins to grow dull in the Wake but a sigh,'tis treasured up among east, The things most precious; and the day it came We may order our wings and be off to the Is noted as a white day in our lives. west. ROGERS: I:aly. MOORE. Boys immature in knowledge I thought of the days when to pleasure alone Pawn their experience to their present pleasure. My heart ever granted a wish or a sigh; SHAKSPEARE. When the saddest emotion my bosom had known Pleasure and revenge Was pity for those who were wiser than I! Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice MOORE. Of any true decision. Pleasures, or wrong or rightly understood, SHARSPEARE. Our greatest evil, or our greatest good. The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices POPE. Make instruments to scourge us. Know, all the good that individuals find, SHAKSPEARE. Or God and nature meant to mere mankind, Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain. Lie in three words,-health, peace, and com-HARSPEARE. petence. POPE. The strong through'pleasure soonest falls, the Why pique all mortals that affect a name? weak A fool to pleasure, yet a slave to fame! Through smart. POPE. SPENSER. POPE. And thus the sweet deluders tune their song. And now he has pour'd out his idle mind POPE. In dainty delices and lavish joys, Having his warlike weapons cast behind, He gains all points who pleasingly confounds, And flows in pleasures and vain pleasing toys. Surprises, varies, and conceals the bounds. SPENSER. POPE. And let the Graces dance unto the rest, For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain For they can do it best; For they can do it best; A cool suspense from pleasure or from pain. The whiles the maidens do their carol sing POPE. To which the woods shall answer, and their Some place the bliss in action, some in ease; echo ring. Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. SPENSER: LitAalzium. POPE. When rage misguides me, or when fear alarms, Howe'er,'tis well that while mankind When pain distresses, or when pleasure charms. Through life's perverse meanders errs, TICKELL. He can imagined pleasures find, All human race, from China to Peru, To combat against-real cares. PRIOR.To combat againstreal cares. Pleasure, howe'er disguised by art, pursue. PRIOR. T. WARTON: Universal Love of Pleasure. Each delighted, and delighting, gives The pleasing ecstasy which each receives. Pleasures are few, and fewer we enjoy: PRIOR. Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and coy; We strive to grasp it with our utmost skill, Where solid pains succeed our senseless joys, Still it eludes us, and it glitters still: And short-lived pleasures pass like fleeting If seized at last, compute your mighty gains; dreams. What is it but rank poison in your veins? ROCHESTER: Valentinian. YOUNG. PL EASURE. —POE TR Y. 409 Fools grin on fools, and stoic-like support, But is't not presumption to write verse to you, Without one sigh, the pleasures of a court. Who make the better poems of the two? YOUNG. For all these pretty knacks that you compose, Alas! what are they but poems in prose? That wheel of fops; that saunter of the town; SIR J. DENHAM. Call it diversion, and the pill goes down. YOUNG. My earliest mistress, now my ancient muse, A man of pleasure is a man of pains. That strong Circean liquor cease t' infuse YOUNG: Nzzt io TZoughts. Wherewith thou didst intoxicate my youth. SIR J. DENHAM. Whate'er the motive, pleasure is the mark: For her the black assassin draws his sword; h' eternal cause in their immortal lines For her dark statesmen trim their midnight Was taught, and. poets were the first divines. lamlp; SIR J. DENNHAM. For her the saint abstains; the miser starves; The stoic proud, for pleasure, pleasure scorns;'Tis still the same, although their shape For her affliction's daughters grief indulge, All but a quick poetic sight escape. And find, or hope, a luxury in tears;- SIR J. DENHAM. For her, guilt, shame, toil, danger, we defy. YOUNG: 1ViNzlt Thoug hts. These are the labour'd births of slavish brains; Not the effect of poetry, but pains. O the dark days of vanity! while here How tasteless! and how terrible when gone J. DENAM. Gonle! they ne'er go; when past, they haunt us Love first invented verse, and form'd the rhyme, still.: The motion measured, harmonized the chime. The spirit walks of every day deceased, DRYDEN. And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns. YOUNG: Night Thoughts. Thy first-fruits of poesy were giv'n To make thyself a welcome inmate there, While yet a young probationer, And candidate of heav'n. POETRY. DRYDEN. Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground. Is my muse controlld By servile awe? Born free, and not be bold! ADDISON. At least I'll dig a hole within the ground, Methinks heroic poesy, till now, And to the trusty earth commit the sound. Like some fantastic fairy-land did show. DRYDEN: Persius. COWLEY. He loved my worthless rhymes, and, like a The charms of poetry our souls bewitch; friend, The curse of writing is an endless itch. Would find out something to commend. DRYDEN. COWLEY. The hand and head were never lost of those Thy immortal rhyme Who dealt in dogg'rel, or who punn'd in prose. Makes up this one short point of time DRYDEN. To fill up half the orb of round eternity. COWLEY. Where mice and rats devour'd poetic bread, And with heroic verse luxuriously were fed. What succour can I hope the muse will send, DRYDEN. Whose drowsiness hath wrong'd the muse's friend? Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound; CRASHAW. All at her work the village maiden sings, Here some digression I must make t' accuse Nor, as she turns the giddy wheel around, Thee, my forgetful and ungrateful muse. Revolves the sad vicissitude of things. SIR J. DENHAM. WM. GIFFORD. 0 o POETRY. And thou, sweet poetry, thou loveliest maid, Oh, may some spark of your celestial fire Still first to fly where sensual joys invade! The last, the meanest of your sons inspire. Unfit, in these degen'rate times of shame, POPE. To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame: Each muse in Leo's golden days Dear charming nymph, neglected and decay'd, Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; bays. Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, POPE. Thou found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so. Hark! the numbers soft and clear Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel, Gently steal upon the ear. Thou nurse of-every virtue, fare thee well! POPE. GOLDSMITH: Dese;-ted Villa- e. Short is the date, alas! of modern rhymes; The helmed cherubim, And sworded seraphim, And'tis but just to let them live betimes. And sworlded seraphim, POPE. Are seen in glitt'ring ranks with wings display'd, Harping in loud and solemn quire, Where'er you find the " cooling western breeze," With unexpressive notes, to heaven's new-born In the next line it " whispers through the trees:" heir. If crystal streams " with pleasing murmurs MILTON. creep," His annual wound in Lebanon, allured The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) writh The Syrian damsels to lament his fate, "sleep." In am'rous ditties, all a summer's day. POPE. MILTON. Curst be the verse, how well soe'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe, Not with such majesty, such bold relief, Gives virtue scandal, innocence a fear, The forms august of kings, or conqu'ring chief, E'e swed on ble, as in verse have shined, Or from the soft-eyed virgin steals a tear! E'er swell'd on marble, as in verse have shined, In polish'd verse, the manners and the mind. POPE. POPE. We poetic folks, who must restrain Our measured sayings in an equal chain, Such lays as neither ebb nor flow, Surrechly lays, and regularly low. Have troubles utterly unknown to those Correctly cold, and regularly low. POPE. Who let their fancy loose in rambling prose. PRIOR. Some dryly plain, without invention's aid, To make the rough recital aptly chime, Write dull receipts how poems may be made. POPE. Or bring the sum of Gallia's loss to rhyme. PRIOR. Before his sacred name flies ev'ry fault, Whie the deathless muse And each excited stanza teems with thought. POPE. Shall sing the just, shall o'er their head diffuse Perfumes with lavish hand, she shall proclaim The muse whose early voice you taught to sing, Thy crimes alone. Prescribed her heights, and pruned her tender PRIOR. wing, Admits of no degrees, but must be still Her guide now lost, no more attempts to rise, Sublimely good, or despicably ill. But in low numbers short excursions tries. RoscoMMoN. POPE. But care in poetry must still be had; But no authority of gods or men Allow of any mean in poesie. It asks discretion ev'n in running mad. ROSCOMMON. POPE. Thus Pegasus, a nearer way to take, For rudest minds with harmony were caught, May boldly deviate from the common track. And civil life was by the muses taught. POPE. ROSCOMMON. Though still some traces of our rustic vein Well-sounding verses are the charms we use And splayfoot verse remain'd, and will remain. Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse. POPE. ROSCOMMON. POE TR Y 4 I Knowing when a muse should be indulged Heaps of huge words, uphoarded hideously, In her full flight, and when she should be They think to be chief praise of poetry; curb'd. And thereby, wanting due intelligence, ROSCOMMON. Have marr'd the face of goodly poesie. SPENSER. Chaste moral writing we may learn from hence; No Pegasus could bear the load Neglect of which no wit can recompense: Along the high celestial road; The fountain which from Helicon proceeds, The steed, oppress'd, would break his girth, That sacred stream, should never water weeds, To raise the lumber from the earth. Nor make the crop of thorns and thistles grow. SWIFT. ROSCOMMON. The vilest dogg'rel Grub-street sends Be subjects great, and worth a poet's voice: Will pass for yours with foes and friends. For men of sense despise a trivial choice. SWIFT. ROSCOMMON. For though, in nature, depth and height Are equally held infinite;'Tis dangerous tampering with a muse, In poetry the height we know: The profit's small, and you have much to lose: Tis only infinite below. SWIFT. For though true wit adorns your birth or place, Degenerate lines degrade th' attainted race. Sonnets or elegies to Chloris ROSCOMMON. Might raise a house about two stories; A lyric ode would slate; a catch But hear, oh, hear, in what exalted strains Would tile; an epigram would thatch. Sicilian muses, through these happy plains, SWIFT. Proclaim Saturnian times, our own Apollo reigns. Each verse so swells expressive of her woes, ROSCOMMON. And ev'ry tear in lines so mournful flows, We, spite of fame, her fate reversed believe, Folly and vice are easy to describe, Folly and vice are easy to describe, O'erlook her crimes, and think she ought to live! The common subjects of our scribbling tribe.ICE ROSCOMMON. What may be hoped, No declining age When not from Helicon's imagined spring, E'er felt the raptures of poetic rage. But sacred writ, we borrow what we sing? RoSCOMMON. This with the fabric of the world begun, Elder than light, and shall outlast the sun. O for a muse of fire, that would ascend ALLER. WALLER. The brightest heaven of invention! SHAKSPEARE. Things of deep sense we may in prose unfold, But they move more in lofty numbers told; Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. By the loud trumpet which our courage aids, SHAKSPEARE. We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades. WALLER. The sweet numbers and melodious measures, Since the muses do invoke my pow'r, With which I wont the winged words to tie, I shall no more decline that sacred bow'r And make a tuneful diapase of pleasures, Where Gloriana, their great mistress, lies. Now being let to run at liberty. ALLER. SPENSER. We send the graces and the muses forth Who now shall give me words and sound Equal unto this mighty enterprise? WALLER. Or who shall lend me wings, with which from Verse makes heroic virtue live, ground groun7d But you can life to virtue give. WALLER. My lowly verse may loftily arise Verses are the potent charms we use And lift itself unto the highest skies? Heroic thought and virtue to infuse. SPENSER. WALLER. 4I2 POETS. POETS. For that fine madness still he did retain o-night the poet's advocate I stand Which rightly should possess a poet's brain.'To-night the poet's advocate I stand, DRAYTON: - oiyofbioz. ( Of M_/awlJowe.) And he deserves the favour at my hand. ADDISON. Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn; Here wanton Naples crowns the happy shore, Greece, Italy, an England did adorn Nor vainly rich, nor despicably poor; The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd, Nor vainly rich, nor despicably poor; The town in soft solemnities delights, The next n majesty, ln both the last: And gentle poets to her arms invites. The force of Naturrce could no further go; And gentle poets to her arms invites. - ADDISON. To make a third, she join'd the former two. DRYDEN: mlzuder Mii'ltoz's Pictuzre. O brave poets, keep back nothing; Nor mix falsehood with the whole! I'll versify in spite, and do my best Look up Godward! speak the truth in To make as much waste paper as the rest. Worthy song from earnest soul! DRYDEN. Hold in high poetic duty Each poet of the air her glory sings, Truest truth the fairest beauty! And round him the pleased audience clap their MRS. E. B. BROWNING. wings. DRYDEN. It is not poetry that makes men poor; For few do write that were not so before; Reject the nauseous praises of the times; And those that have writ best, had they been Give thy base poets back their cobbled rhymes. rich, DRYDEN. Had ne'er been seized with a poetic itch; So may cast poets write; there's no pretension Had loved their ease too well to take the pains To argue loss of wit from loss of pension. To argue loss of wit from loss of pension. To undergo that drudgery of brains; DRYDEN. But, being for all other trades unfit, Only t' avoid being idle set up wit. Poets, like lovers, should be bold and dare; BUTLER: zudibra$s. They spoil their business with an over-care: And he who servilely creeps after sense No! when the sons of song descend to trade, No when the sons of song descend to trade, Is safe, but ne'er will reach an excellence. Their bays are sere, their former laurels fade: DRYI)EN. Let such forego the poet's sacred name Who rack their brains for lucre, not for fame. O fortunate young man! at least your lays BYRON: Enzog. Bards nazd Scot. _Reviezwer-s. Are next to his, and claim the second praise. DRYDEN. Of those few fools who with ill stars are curst, Some scribbling fools call'd poets fare the worst: Henceforth let poets, ere allow'd to write, For they're a set of fools which fortune makes, Be search'd, like duellists before they fight. And, after she has made them fools, forsakes. DRYDEN. CONGREVE. So wert thou born into a tuneful strain, Poets have undoubted right to claim, An early, rich, and inexhausted vein. If not the greatest, the most lasting name. DRYDEN. CONGREVE. Mean as I am, yet have the Muses made Poet and saint, to thee alone were giv'n Me free, a member of the tuneful trade. The two most sacred names of earth and heav'n. DRYDEN. COWLEY. A poet is not born in ev'ry race; Who brought green poesy to her perfect age, Two of a house few ages can afford, And made that art which was a rage! One to perform, another to record. COWLEY. DRYDEN. Sure there are poets which did never dream Worse than all the clatt'ring tiles, and worse Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream Than thousand padders, is the poet's curse; Of Helicon; we therefore may suppose Rogues that in dog-days cannot rhyme forbear, Those made not poets, but the poets those. But without mercy read, to make you hear. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. POETS. 4 3 True poets empty fame and praise despise; Sages and chiefs long since had birth, Fame is the trumpet, but your smile the prize. Ere Ca-esar was, or Newtonl named; DRYDEN. These raised new empires o'er the earth, And those new heav'ns and systems framed: Poets are limners of another kind, Vain was the chiefs', the sages' pride! To copy out ideas in the mind; They had no poet, and they died; Words are the paint by which their thoughts ad no poet, and they died; In vain they schemed, in vain they bled! are shown, They had no poet, and are dead. And nature is their object to be drawn.ad no poet, and are dead. POPE. GRANVILLE. Mighty dulness crown'd The poet and his theme, in spite of time, Shall take through Grub-street her triumphant Forever young, enjoys an endless prime. round, GRANVIL LE. And, her Parnassus glancing o'er at once, In jingling rhymes well fortified and strong, Behold a hundred sons, and each a dunce. He fights intrench'd o'er head and ears in song. POPE. GRANVILLE. A clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,'Tis long disputed whether poets claim Who pens a stanza when he should engross. From art or nature their best right to fame POPE. But art, if not enrich'd by nature's vein, I left no calling for this idle trade And a rude genius of uncultured strain, No duty broke, no father clisobey'd. No duty broke, no father disobey'd. Are useless both; but when in friendship join'd, POPE. A mutual succour in each other find. HORACE, by FRANCIS. Fired at first sight with what the muse imparts, In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts; Yet, lest you think I rally more than teach, So pleased at first the tow'ring Alps we try, Or praise malignly arts I cannot reach, Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky Let me, for once, presume t' instruct the times POPE. To know the poet from the man of rhymes:'Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains; How to the banks where bards departed doze They led him soft. Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; They led him soft. POPE. Enrage-comlpose-with more than magic art, With pity and with terror tear my heart; The needy poet sticks to all he meets, And snatch me o'er the earth, or through the air, Coach'd, carted, trod upon, now loose, now fast, To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where. And carried off in some dog's tail at last. HORACE, by POPE. POPE. It is a fearful stake the poet casts, The gen'rous god who wit and gold refines, When he comes forth from his sweet solitude And ripens spirits as he ripens mines, Of hopes, and songs, and visionary things, Kept dross for duchesses,-the world shall To ask the iron verdict of the world. know it, L. E. LANDON. To you gave sense, good humour, and a poet. POPE. Nor will I thee detain With poet's fictions, nor oppress thine ear Hail, bards triumphant! born in happier days, With circumstance and long exordiums here. Whose honours with increase of ages grow, MAY: Viygil. As streams roll down enlarging as they flow. POPE. The repeated air Of sad Electra's poet had the pow'r Unjustly poets we asperse; To save th' Athenian walls from ruin bare. Truth shines the brighter, clad in verse. MILTON. POPE. As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, While pensive poets painful vigils keep, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep. POPE. POPE. 414 POETS. Poets, like painters, thus unskill'd to trace Though poets may of inspiration boast, The naked nature and the living grace, Their rage, ill govern'd, in the clouds is lost; With gold and jewels cover every part, He that proportion'd wonders can disclose And hide with ornaments their want of art. At once his fancy and his judgment shows; POPE. Chaste moral writing we may learn fiom hence, Neglect of which no wit can recompense. Much do I suffer, much to keep in peace ROSCOMMON. This jealous, waspish, wrong-head, rhyming race. POPE. Call it not vain;-rthey do not err Who say that, when the Poet dies, At some dear idle time Mute Nature mourns her worshipper Not plagued with headache or the want of And celebrates his obsequies. r-hvyme. POPE. SIR WV. SCOTT: Lay of the Last 17iinstrel. A hard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, POPE. Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; Some strain in rhyme; the muses on their racks And as imagination bodies forth Scream, like the winding of ten thousand jacks. The folms of things unknown, the poets pen POPE. Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothings Just strives to make his barrenness appear, A local habitation and a name. And strains from hard-bound brains eight lines SHAKSPEARE. a year. No poet ever sweetly sung, POPE. Unless he were like Phcebus young; What crowds of these, impenitently bold, Nor ever nymph inspired to rhyme, In sounds and jingling syllables grown old, Unless like Venus in her prime. SWIFT. Still run on poets, in a raging vein, What poet would not mourn to see Ev'n to the dregs and squeezings of the brain! His brother write as well as he? POPE. SWIFT. Your poem sunk, Yes, every poet is a fool; Byes,'deverytr p ioet Ne isdafoo canAnd sent in quires to line a trunk; By demonstration Ned can show it: If still you be disposed to rhyme, HIappy, could Ned's inverted rule Prove every fool to be a poet. PRIOR. Go try your hand a second time. Prove every fool to be a poet. PRIOR. SWIFT. SWIFT. Vain now the tales which fabling poets tell, Then, risin with Aurora's light, The muse invogesw sit doa' to lrite, That wav'ring conquest still desires to rove.ed, sit down to PRIOR. Blot out, correct, insert, refine, Enlarge, diminish, interline; Poets, the first instructors of mankinc, Be mindful, when invention fails, Brought all things to their native, proper use. To scratch your head and bite your nails. ROSCOMMON. SWIFT: Oil Poetry. Let poets match their subject to their strength, A bard here dwelt, mole fat than bard beseems. And often try what weight they can support. THtOMSON: Castle of Iidolezce. ROSCOMMON. Some refuge in the muse's art I found; A wealthy poet takes more pains to hire Reluctant now I touch'd the trembling string, A flattering audience than poor tradesmen do Bereft of him who taught me how to sing. To persuade customers to buy their goods. TIKcELL. RIOSCOMMON. Were we but less indulgent to our faults, Each poet with a different talent writes; And patience had to cultivate our thoughts, One praises, one instructs, another bites. Our muse would flourish. ROSCOMMON. WALLER. True poets are the guardians of a state, Poets lose half the praise they should have got And when they fall, portend approaching fate. Could it be known what they discreetly blot. ROSCOMMON. WALLER. P OE TS.-P OZ ITICS. 4 5 Poets that lasting marble seek Are not our liberties, our lives, Must carve in Latin or in Greek: The laws, religion, and our wives, We write in sand,-our language grows, Enough at once to lie at stake And, like the tide, our work o'erflows. For covenant and the cause's sake? WALLER: On Enzglish Yerse. BUTLER: Huidilras. Poets may boast, as safely vain, A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; Their works shall with the world remain: An hour may lay it in the dust. Both bound together live or die, BYRON: Cj/ilde Harold. The verses and the prophecy. Who's in or out, who moves the grand machine, WALLER: On Enzglish Verse. Nor stirs my curiosity or spleen; Poets, like.moliarchs on an eastern throne, Secrets of state no more I wish to know Confined by nothing but their will alone, Than secret movements of a puppet-show. Here can cry up, and there as boldly blame, CHURCHILL. And, as they please, give infamy or fame. Dull rogues affect the politician's part, WALSH. And learn to nod, and smile, and shrug with Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, art; Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares,- Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails; The Poets! who on earth have made us heirs And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails. Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays! CONGREVE. WORDSWORTH: Personzal 7l1a.[~. Oft pitying God did well-form'd spirits raise, And mighty poets in their misery dead. Fit for the toilsome bus'ness of their days, WORDSWORTH. To free the groaning nation, and to give Peace first, and then the rules in peace to live. COWLEY. POLITICS. But the age of virtuous politics is past, Where vice prevails, and impious men bear And we are deep in that of cold pretence: sway, Patriots are grown too shrewd to be sincere, The post of honour is a private station. And we too wise to trust them. ADDISON. COWPER. Thou oft hast seen me The seals of office glitter in his eyes; Wrestlingl with vice and faction; now thou He climbs, he pants, he grasps them; at his see'st me heels, Spent, overpower'd, despairing of success. Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, ADDISON. And, with a dextrous jerk, soon twists him down, The morning lowers, and heavily in clouds And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. Brings on the day, the great, the important day, COWPER. Big with the fate of Cato and of Rome. Is there no means, but that a sin-sick land ADDISON. Should be let blood with such a boist'rous hand? Oh! think what anxious moments pass between DANIEL. The birth of plots and their last fatal periods! The root cut off from whence these tumults Oh!'tis a dreadful interval of time, rose, Made up of horror all, and big with death. He should have rest, the commonwealth repose. ADDISON. DANIEL. Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time? Commonwealths by virtue ever stood. No, let us draw her term of freedom out SIR J. DAVIES. In its full length, and spin it to the last. A popular swtay, by forcing kings to give, ADDISON. More than was fit for subjects to receive, We trepann'd the state, and faced it down Ran to the same extremes; and one excess With plots and projects of our own. MIade both, by striving to be greater, less. BUTLER: HzZdibras. SIR J. DENHAM. 4 6 P OLTICS. Here was that charter seal'd, wherein the crown With mind averse, he rather underwent All marks of arbitrary power lays down. His people's will, than gave his own consent. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Like a declining statesman left forlorn As the greatest curse that I can give, To his friends' pity and pursuers' scorn.. Unpitied be deposed, and after live. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. May no such storm 0, I am yet to learn a statesman's art; Fall on our times, where ruin must reform. My kindness and my hate unmask'd I wear, SIR J. DENHAM. For friends to trust, and enemies to fear. DRYDEN. He had not used excursions, spears, or darts, But counsel, order, and such aged arts: The little courtiers, who ne'er come to know Which if our ancestors had not retain'd, The depth of factions, as in mazes go, The senate's name our counsel had not gain'd. Where interests meet, and cross, so oft that they SIR J. DENHAM. With too much care are wilder'd in the way. Statesmen purge vice with vice, and may DRYDEN. corrode Betwixt the prince and parliament we stand, The bad with bad, a spider with a toad: The barriers of the state on either hand For so ill thralls not them, but they tame ill, for then they drown the And make her do much good against her will. land. DONNE. DRYDEN. While empiric politicians use deceit, While empiric politicians use deceit, The lovely boy, with his auspicious face, Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat, Hide what they give, and cure ut y a cheat, Shall Pollio's consulship and triumph grace. You boldly show that skill which they pretend, DRYDEN. And work by means as noble as your end; Which should you veil, we might unwind the Nor urged the labours of my lord in vain clue, A sinking empire longer to sustain. As men do nature, till we came to you. DRYDEN. DRYDE N. Forced into exile from his rightful throne, A subject in his prince may claim a right, He made all countries where he came his own; Nor suffer him with strength impair'd to fight. And, viewing monarchs' secret arts of sway, DRYDEN. A royal factor for their kingdoms lay. I'll not betray the glory of my name:DRYDEN.'Tis not for me, who have preserved a state, None can have the favourable thought, To buy an empire at so base a rate. That to obey a tyrant's will they fought. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Our fathers bent their painful industry From hence the fate of Alban fathers come, To check a monarchy that slowly grew; And the long glories of majestic Rome. But did not France or Holland's fate foresee, DRYDEN. Whose rising pow'r to swift dominion flew. DRvDEN. Your slighting Zulema, this very hour Will take ten thousand subjects from your power. In knots they stand, or in a rank they walk, DRYDEN. Serious in aspect, earnest in their talk; Factious, and favouring this or t'other side, Your wrongs are known: impose but your comAs their strong fancy or weak reason guide. mands, DRYDEN. This hour shall bring you twenty thousand hands, But we wtrho give our native rights away, DRYDEN. And our enslaved posterity betray, Are now reduced to beg an alms and go The surly commons shall respect deny, On holy-days to see a puppet-show. And justle peerage out with property. DRYDEN. DRYDEN, P OLITICS. 417 At home the hateful names of parties cease, Almighty crowd! thou shorten'st all dispute; And factious souls are wearied into peace. Nor faith nor reason make thee at a stay; DRYDEN. Thou leap'st over all. DRYDEN. To tyrants others have their country sold, Imposing foreign lords for foreign gold. These will appear such chits in story, DRYDEN.'Twill turn all politics to jests, Wouldst thou be first minister of state; To be repeated like John Dory, To have thy levees crowded with resort When fiddlers sing at feasts. DRYDEN. Of a depending, gaping, servile court? DRYDEN. Where village statesmen talk'd with looks proTo this false foreigner you give your throne, found, And wrong'd a friend, a kinsman, and a son. And news much older than their ale went round.. DRYDEN. GOLDSMITH: -Deserted Villag'e. Consuls of mod'rate power in calms were made; Whose genius was such When the Gauls came, one sole dictator sway'l. We scarcely could praise him, or blame him,, DRYDEN. too much; Mark those who dote on arbitrary power, Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And you shall find'em either hot-brained youth And to party gave up what was meant for manOr needy bankrupts. kind. DRYDEN. GOLDSMITH: Retaliation. When empire in its childhood first appears, For just experience tells in every soil A watchful fate o'ersees its rising years. That those who think must govern those who DRYDEN. toil. GOLDSMITH: 7)'aveEler-. The senseless plea of right by providence Call last no longer than the present sway, IKnowing by fame, small poets, small musicians, But justifies the next who conmes in play. Small painters, and still smaller politicians. DRYDEN. WALTER HARTE. I to do this! I, whom you once thought brave, I to do this!, whom you once thought brave, D' ye think that statesmen's kindnesses proceed To sell my country, and my king enslave! From ally principles but their own need? DRYDEN. When they're afraid, they're wondrous good and What people is so void of common sense free; To vote succession from a native prince?- But when they're safe they have no memory. DRYDEN.. SIR R. HOWARD: Vestal Vizigz. Were subjects so but only by their choice, Extended empire, like extended gold, And not from birth did forced dominion take, Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. One prince alone would have the public voice. DR. S. JOHNSON: Irene. DRYDEN. Here let those reign whom pensions can incite Be pleased your politics to spare; pled nour p c s areTo vote a patriot black, a courtier white, I'm old enough, and can myself take care. Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, DRYDEN. And plead for pirates in the face of day. Nor do those ills on single bodies prey; DR. S. JOHNSON: London. But oftener bring the nation to decay, And sweep the present stock and future hope Men who their duties know, away. But know their rights, and, knowing, dare mainDRYDEN. tain. SIR W. JONES. Beneath one law bees live, And with one common stock their traffic drive: Believe me, friends, loud tumults are not laid All's in the state, the state provides for all. With half the easiness that they are raised. DRYDEN. BEN JONSON. 27 4 8 POZITICS. Such an envious state Unjust equal o'er equals to let reign; That sooner will accuse the magistrate One over all, with unsucceeded power. Than the delinquent, and will rather grieve MI.LTON. The treason is not acted, than believe. The treason is not acted, than believe. Vane, young in years, but in sage councils old, 1BEN JONSON. Than whom a better senator ne'er held They did not leave the helm in storms; The helm of Rome. And such they are make happy states. MILTON. BEN JONSON. If they are all debased and willing slaves, A state's anger should not take The young but breathing to grow gray in bondKnowledge either of fools or women. age, BEN JONSON. And the old sinking to ignoble graves, Of such a race no matter who is king. Hence, wretched nation! all thy woes arise: Of such a race no MURPHatter who is king. Avow'd corruption, licensed perjuries, Eternal taxes, treaties for a day, Avoid the politic, the factious fool, -Servants that rule, and senates that obey. The busy, buzzing, talking, harden'd knave, LORD LYTTELTON. The quaint, smooth rogue, that sins'gainst his reason,'Then none was for a party; Calls saucy loud sedition public zeal, Then all were for the state; And mutiny the dictates of his spirit.'Then the great man help'd the poor, OTWAY. And the poor man loved the great;'Then lands were fairly portion'd; All agree to spoil the public good, Then spoils were fairly sold; And villains'fatten with the brave man's labour.'The Romans were like brothers OTWAY. In the brave days of old. Old politicians chew on wisdom past, LORD MACAULAY: Lays. And blunder on in business to the last.,Gray-headed men and grave, with warriors POPE. mix'd, For forms of government let fools contest; Assemble; and harangues are heard;' but soon Whate'er is best administer'd is best. In factious opposition. POPE. MILTON. The right divine of kings to govern wrong. With what ease, POPE. Endued with regal virtues as thou art, Appearing, and begavinning noble deeds, Who first taught souls enslaved, and realms unAppearing, and beginning noble deeds, Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne. done, MILTON. The enormous faith of many made for one; That proud exception to all nature's laws, He ill aspires to rule T' invert the world and counterwork its cause. Cities of men or headstrong multitudes, POPE. Subject himself to anarchy within. MILTON. His hand unstain'd, his uncorrupted heart, His comprehensive head; all interests weigh'd, There they shall found All Europe saved, yet Britain not betray'd. Their government, and their great senate choose. POPE. MILTON. Means I must use, thou say'st, prediction else Let not the muse then flatter lawless sway,'Will unpredict, and fail me of the throne. Nor follow fortune where she leads the way. MILTON. POPE. Who, not content When a statesman wants a day's defence, With fair equality, fraternal state, Or envy holds a whole week's war with sense,'Will arrogate dominion undeserved Or simple pride for flatt'ry makes demands, Over his brethren. May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands. MILTON. POPE. PO:LITICS. 41 9 In moderation placing all my glory, Empires by various turns shall rise and set; While tories call me whig, and whigs a tory. While thy abandon'd tribes shall only know POPE. A different master, and a change of time. PRIOR. My retreat the best companions grace, Chief's out of war, and statesmen out of place. Entire and sure the monarch's rule must prove, POPE. Who founds her greatness on her subjects' love. Jarring interests of themselves create PRIOR. Th' according music of a well-mixt state. Bright Eliza ruled Britannia's state, And boldly wise, and fortunately great. Or rob the Roman geese of all their glories, PRIOR. And save the state by cackling to the tories. Every peevish, moody malcontent POPE.:I Shall set the senseless rabble in an uproar. The pale boy senator yet tingling stands, ROWE. And holds his breeches close with both his Valiant fools hands. Were made by nature for the wise to work with; POPE. They are their tools; and'tis the sport of statesmen Ask men's opinions: Scoto now shall tell When heroes knock their knotty heads together How trade increases, and the world goes well: And fall by one another. Strike off his pension by the setting sun, RowE. And Britain, if not Europe, is undone. Woe to that land POPE. Which gasps beneath a child's unstaid comThese now control a wretched people's fate; mad.DYS. These can divide, and these reverse, the state. POPE. Let fools the fame of loyalty divide: Wise men and gods are on the strongest side. And now, as oft in some distemper'd state, men and gods are on the strongest side. SIR C. SEDLEv. On one nice trick depends the gen'ral fate. POPE. There is a mystery in the soul of state, Which hath an operation more divine Calm thinking villains, whom no faith could fix; fThan breath or pen can give expressure to. Of crooked counsels, and dark politics. SHARSPEARE. POPE. Ulysses let no partial favours fall; We debase The people's parent, he protected all. The nature of our seats, which will in time POPE. break ope The locks o' th' senate, and bring in the crows Csesar, the world's great master and his own, To peck the eagles. Unmoved, superior still in every state, SHAe SPEARE. And scarce detested in his country's fate. POPE. Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky. How should the muse from such a monarch steal SHAKSPEARE. An hour, and not defraud the public weal? POPE. The man that sits within a monarch's heart, Would he abuse the count'nance of the king, Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, le e r ~ action fatfladlAlack! what mischiefs might he set abroad! In action faithful, and in honour clear! SHAIPEARE. Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend: Boundless intemperance Ennobled by himself, by all approved, In nature is a tyranny; it hath been Praised, wept, and honour'd by the muse he Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne, loved. And fall of many kings. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 420 POZLITICS. My soul aches In this point charge him home, that he affects To know, when two authorities are up, Tyrannic power: if he evade us there, Neither supreme, how soon confusion Inforce him with his envy to the people. May enter. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Desperation Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, Is all the policy, strength, and defence Which by thy younger brother is supplied; That Rome can make against them. And art almost an alien to the hearts SHAKSPEARE. Of all the court and princes of my blood. SHAKSPEARE. You that are king Have caused him, by new act of parliament, There have been commissions To blot out me, and put his own son in. Sent down among them, which have flaw'd the SHARSPEARE. heart Of all their loyalties. Where is loyalty? SHAKSPEARE. If it be banish'd from the frosty head, He cannot so precisely weed this land - Where shall it find a harbour in the earth? As his misdoubts present occasion: SHAKSPEARE. His foes are so enrooted with his friends, The hearts That, plucking to unfix an enemy, Of all his people shall revolt from him, He doth unfasten so and shake a friend. And kiss the lips of unacquainted change. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Till the injurious Romans did extort'Twas you incensed the rabble: This tribute froml us, we were free. Cats! that can judge as fitly of his work, SHIAKSPEARE. As I can of those mysteries which heav'n We loved him; but, like beasts, Will not have earth to know. Our coward nobles gave way to your clusters, SHAKSPEARE. Who did hoot him out o' the city. Equality of two domestic powers Breeds scrupulous faction. The commons, like an angry hive of bees SHAKSPEARE. That want their leader, scatter up and down. You perceive the body of our ingdom, SHAKSPEARE. How foul it is; what rank diseases grow, And now the house of York And with what danger, near the heart of it. Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours SHAKSPEARE. Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine. How can tyrants safely govern home SHAKSPEARE. Unless abroad they purchase great alliance? It is a purposed thing SHAKSPEARE. To curb the will of the nobility: Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule, So work the honey-bees, Nor ever will be ruled. Creatures that by a ruling nature teach SHAKSPEARE. The art of order to a peopled kingdom. SHAKSPEARE. England now is left To tug and scamble, and to part by th' teeth Were it good The unowed interest of proud-swelling state. To set the exact wealth of all our states SHAKSPEARE. All at one cast; to set so rich a main This bodes some strange eruption to our state. On the nice hazard of some doubtful hour. S. HAKS PEAR E. SHAKSPEARE. O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows I Turn him to any cause of policy, When that my care could not withhold thy riots, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, What wilt thou do when riot is thy care:? Familiar as his garter. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. P OLITICS.-P OPULARRITEY.-PO VER TY 42 A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand He, knowing well that nation must decline Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd. Whose chief support and sinews are of coin, SHAKSPEARE. Our nation's solid virtue did oppose Shall we now To the rich troublers of the world's repose. Contaminate our fingers with base bribes? WALLER. SHAKSPEARE, Of ancient prudence here he ruminates, Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, Of rising kingdoms, and of falling states. With powerful policy strengthen themselves. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. When others fell, this standing did presage Be it thy course to busy giddy minds The crown should triumph over pop'lar rage. With foreign quarrels. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. When straight the people, by no force comWatch thou, and wake when others be asleep, pell'd, To pry into the secrets of the state. Nor longer from their inclination held, SHAKSPEARE. Break forth at once. WALLER. As when some writer in a public cause, His pen, to save a sinking nation, draws, Heav'n that hath placed this Island to give law, While all is calm, his arguments prevail, To balance Europe, and her states to awe. Till pow'r, discharging all her stormy bags, WALLER. Flutters the feeble pamphlet into rags. SWIFT. POPULARITY. Then, after sage monitions from his friends Some popular chief, His talents to employ for nobler ends, More noisy than the rest, but cries, halloa! He turns to politics his dang'rous wit. And in a trice the bellowing herd come out. SWIFT. DRYDEN. He hates an action base; I have bought Can sometimes drop a voter's claim, Golden opinions from all sorts of people. And give up party to his fame. ~~SWIFT ~. S~HAKSPEARE. SWIFT. Triumphing tories and desponding whigs All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs. Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse SWIFT. Into a rapture lets her baby cry, And lives to clutch the golden keys, While she chats him. SHAKSPEARE. To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne. O he sits high in all the people's hearts; TENNYSON: An Memoriacm. And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchymy, Or that eternal want of peace which vexes public Will change to virtue and to worthiness. Will change to virtue and to worthiness. men. SHAKSPEARE. TENNYSON: Will Waterproof. Russell's blood By this face, Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign. This seeming brow of justice, did he win THOMSON. The hearts of all that he did angle for. SHAKSPEARE. Ere to thy cause and thee my heart inclined, Or love to party had seduced my mind. TICKELL. POVERTY. From the New World her silver and her gold Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye Came, like a tempest, to confound the Old; Th' unfeeling proud one looks, and passes by, Feeding with these the bribed electors' hopes, Condeml'd on penury's barren path to roam, Alone she gave us emperors and popes. Scorn'd by the world, and left without a home. WALLER. CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Hope. 422 POVER'Y The frugal housewife trembles when she lights Iye gave, he taught, and edified the more Her scanty stock of brushwood, blazing clear, Because he show'd by proof'twas easy to be But dying soon, like all terrestrial joys. poor. COWPER: Task. DRYDEN. He is never poor For ev'n that indigence that brings me low That little hath, but he that much desires. Makes me myself and Him above to know. DANIEL. DRYDEN. 0 blissful poveity! Want is a bitter and a hateful good: Nature, too partial, to thy lot assigns Because its virtues are not understood; Health,freedom,innocence,and downypeace, — Yet many things impossible to thought Her real goods, —and only mocks the'great Have been by need to full perfection brought. With empty pageantries. The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, FENTON: Alaiszamne. Sharpness of wit, and active diligence; Think, too, in what a woeful plight Prudence at once, and fortitude, it gives, Pde pationc, eaknd f d, i gives, The wretch must be whose pocket's light: And, if in patience taken, mends our lives. DYE Are not his hours by want deprest? DRYDEN. Penurious cares corrode his breast; Content with poverty, my soul I arm; Without respect, or love, or friends, And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. His solitary day descends. DRYDEN. GAY: F'ables. Where, then, ah! where shall poverty reside, By thrift my sinkingfortuTo'scape the pressure of contiguous pride? Though late, yet is at last become my care; If to some common's fenceless limits stray'd, My heart shall be my own, my vast expense Meato s my o my pvdense. He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, Reduced to bounds by timely providence. DRYDEN. Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide, And e'en the bare-worn common is denied. If fortune has a niggard been to thee, GOLDSMITI: Deser/led Village. Devote thyself to thrift, not luxury; She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, And wisely make that kind of food thy choice To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread; To which necessity confines thy price. To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn; DRYDEN. To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn. Sometimes'tis grateful to the rich to try GOLDSMITH: Desei/ed Village. A short vicissitude, and fit of poverty. In days of poverty his heart was light: DRYDEN. He sung his hymns at morning, noon, and Who can see, night. WALTERI HARTE. Without esteem for virtuous poverty, Severe Fabricius, or can cease t' admire Be honest poverty thy boasted wealth: The ploughman consul in his coarse attire? So shall thy friendships be sincere, though few; DRYDEN. So shall thy sleep be sound, thy waking. cheerful. And yet no doubts the poor man's draught con- ^ HAVARD: Ptegzlus. trol; - This mournful truth is everywhere confess'd, He dreads no poison in his homely bowl: Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd. Then fear the deadly drug when gems divine DR. S. JOHNSON: London. Enchase the cup and sparkle in the wine. Few save the poor feel for the poor; DRYDEN. The rich know not how hard It is to be of needful rest Rarely they rise by virtue's aid who lie Plunged in the depths of helpless poverty. And needful food debarr'd: DRYDEN. They know not of the scanty meal, With small pale faces round; Add, that the rich have still a gibe in store, No fire upon the cold damp hearth And will be monstrous witty on the poor. When snow is on the ground. DRYDEN. L. E. LANDON. PO YE TY.-PRAISE. 423 If ev'ry just man that now pines with want Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, Had but a moderate and beseeming share That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Now heaps upon some few with vast excess. Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend MILTON. you From seasons such as these? The poor sleep little: we must learn to watch SHAKSPEARE. Our labours late and early; every morning,'Midst winter frosts, sparingly clad and fed, Rise to our toils, and drudge away the day. Want, worldly want, that hungry, meagre fiend, Is at our heels, and chases us in view. Praise of the wise and good!-it is a meed OTWAY. For which I would long years of toil endure, — To the world, no bugbear is so great Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure. As want of figure, and a small estate. SIR S. E. BRYDGES. POPE. Cast down thyself, and only strive to raise No weeping orphan saw his father's store The glory of thy Maker's sacred name; Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floor. shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floor. Use all thy pow'rs that bless'd pow'r to praise, Nt iPOPE. sWhich gives the pow'r to be and use the same. Nor cherish'd they relations poor, SIR J. DAIE That might decrease their present store. PRIOR. Commend but sparingly whom thou dost love, What wretch art thou? whose misery and base- But less condemn whom thou dost not approve; ness Thy friend, like flattery, too much praise doth Hangs on my door; whose hateful whine of wrong, woe And too sharp censure shows an evil tongue. Breaks in upon my sorrows, and distracts SIR J. DENHAM. My jarring senses with thy beggar's cry? For numerous blessings: yearly show'r'd, ROWE: 7anze Shore. And property with plenty crown'd, I from oppressors did the'poor defend, Accept our pious praise. The fatherless, and such as had no friend. DRYDEN. SANDYS. To sing thy praise, would heav'n my breath Riches endless is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor. Infusing spirits worthy sch a song, Infusing spirits worthy such a song, Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays. Art thou so base, and full of wretchedness, DRYDEN. And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression stareth in thine eyes, I have co taste of the noisy praise Upon thy bac hangs ragged misey. Of giddy crowds, as changeable as winds; Upon thy back hangs ragged misery. SHAIKSPEARE. Servants to change, and blowing with the tide Of swoln success, but veering with its ebb. It is still fortune's use To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow His praise of foes is venomously nice; An age of poverty. So touch'd, it turns a virtue to a vice. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what Of wreakful heav'n; whose base, unhoused came, trunks, And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame; To the conflicting elements exposed, Till, his relish grown callous, almost to disease, Answer mere nature. Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.. SHAKSPEARE. GOLDSMITH: Retaliation. 424 PRAISE. For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought, Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; If she inspire and he approve my lays. And the weak soul, within itself unblest, POPE. Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. GOLDSMITH: Travele. Damn with faint praise, concede with civil leer. GOLDSMITH: Traveller. POPE. But thou wilt sin and grief destroy, That so the broken bones may joy, To what base ends, and by what abject ways, And tune together in a well-set song, Are mortals urged through sacred lust of praise? Full of His praises POPE. Who dead men raises; Whctudead menl curae makeumPleased in the silent shade with empty praise. Fractures well cured make us more strong. POPE. GEORGE HERBERT. Of old those met rewards who could excel, Him their deliverer Europe does confess; Of old those met rewards who could excel, All tongues extol him, all reliions bless. And those were praised who but endeavour'd All tongues extol him, all religions bless. HALIFAX. well. POPE. Thy praise or dispraise is to me alike: One doth not stroke me, nor the other strike. My open'd thought to joyous prospects raise, BFEN JONSON. And for thy mercy let me sing thy praise. PRIOR. Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, My babbling praises I repeat no more; Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. But hear, rejoice, stand silent, and adore. MILTON. PRIOR. His praise, ye winds! that from four quarters By fair rewards our noble youth we raise blow, To emulous merit, and to thirst of praise. Breathe soft or loud. PRIOR. MILTON. Praise him, each savage furious beast, Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow, That on his stores do daily feast; Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. And you, tame slaves of the laborious plough, MILTON. Your weary knees to your Creator bow. Whether to deck with clouds th' unclouded sky, ROSCOMMON. Or wet the thirsty earth with falling show'rs, Praise of great acts he scatters, as a seed Rising, or falling, still advance his praise.e as eed Which may the like in coming ages breed. MILTON. ROSCOMMON. Let your ceaseless change Heav'n! set ope thy everlasting gates, Vary to our great Creator still new praise. Heav'n! set ope thy everlasting gates, MILTON. TO entertain my vows of thanks and praise. SHAKSPEARE. Whose taste, too long forborne, at first essay Gave elocution to the mute, and taught One good deed, dying tongueless, The tongue not made for speech to speak thy Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that: praise. Our praises are our wages. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Be thou the first true merit to befriend: Thou'lt say anon he is some kin to thee, His praise is lost who waits till all commend. Thou spend'st such heyday wit in praising him. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. In praise so just let ev'ry voice be join'd, Like one of two contending in a prize, And fill the general chorus of mankind! That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, POPE. Hearing applause and universal shout, The constant tenor of their well-spent days Giddy in spirit, gazing still in doubt No less deserved a just return of praise. Whether those peals of praise be his or no. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. PRAISE. — RA YER. 425 My mother, For what are men who grasp at praise sublime, Who has a charter to extol her blood, But bubbles on the rapid stream of time? When she does praise me, grieves me. YOUNG. SHAKSPEARE. His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his. SHAKSPEARE. Yet then, from all my grief, O Lord, Praising what is lost Thy mercy set me free, Mak~es the remembrance dear. Whilst in the confidence of pray'r SHAKSPEARE. My soul took hold on thee. ADDISON. This is most strange! That she, who ev'n but now was your best object, Almighty Pow'r, by whose most wise command Your praise's argument, balm of your age, Helpless, forlorn, uncertain here I stand, Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of Take this faint glimmering of thyself away, time Or break into my. soul with perfect day! Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle ARBUTHNOT. So many folds of favour. SHAKSPEARE. Give me, O Father, to thy throne access, Unshaken seat of endless happiness! All the priests and friars in my realm All; th priests andfriarsinmyrealmGive me, unveil'd, the source of good to see! Shall in procession sing her endless praise. Give me thy light, and fix mine eyes on thee! SHAKSPEARE. BOETHIUS. All thy praise is vain, All thy praise is vain, Farewell! if ever fondest prayer Save what this verse, which never shall expire, For other's weal avail'd on high, Shall to thee purchase. SPENSER. Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky. Or who would ever care to do brave deed, BYRON. Or strive in virtue others to excel, If none should yield him his deserved meed,- He prayeth best who loveth best Due praise,-that is the spur of doing well? All things, both great and small. For if good were not praised more than ill, S. T. COLERIDGE: Alzcient Mariner. None would choose goodness of his own free The few that pray at all pray oft amiss; will. SPENSER: Tears of t/e i'.uses. And, seeking grace t' improve the prize they hold, That praise contents me more which one im- Would urge a wiser suit than asking more. parts COWPER: Task. Of judgment sound, though of a mean degree, Than praise from princes void of princely parts, However, keep the lively taste you hold Who have more wealth, but not more wit, than Of God, and love him now, but fear him he. more; EARL OF STIRLING: Craesus. And in your afternoons think what you told And promised him at morning-prayer before. And what is most commended at this time Succeeding ages may account a crime. EARL OF STIRLING: Darius. Those loving papers Desire of praise first broke the patriot's rest, Thicken on you now, as prayers ascend And made a bulwark of the warrior's breast. To heaven in troops at a good man's passing. YOUNG. bell. DONNE. The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art, Reigns more or less, and glows, in ev'ry heart: But to the parting goddess thus she pray'd: The proud to gain it toils on toils endure; Propitious still be present to my aid, The modest shun it but to make it sure. Nor quite abandon your once-favour'd maid. YOUNG: Love of Fame. DRYDEN. 426 PRA YER. God gives us what he knows our wants require, Winds! on your wings to heav'n her accents And better things than those which we desire: bear! Some pray for riches; riches they obtain; Such words as heav'n alone is fit to hear! But, watch'd by robbers, for their wealth are DRYDEN. slain: The pow'rs we both invoke, Some pray from prison to be freed, and come, e e, To you and yours, and mine, propitious be, When guilty of their vows, to fall at home; And'firm our purpose with an augury. Murder'd by those they trusted with their life, —RyDEN. DRYDEN. A favour'd servant, or a bosom wife: Such dear-bought blessings happen every day, Business might shorten, not disturb, her pray'r; Because we know not for what things to pray. Heav'n had the best, if not the greater, share: DRYDEN. An active life long orisons forbids; Yet still she pray'd, for still she pray'd by deeds. For fame he pray'd; but let th' event declare DRYDEN. He had no mighty penn'worth of his pray'r. They slept in peace by night, DRYDEN. Secure of bread as of returning light, My father's, mother's, brother's death I pardon: And with such firm dependence on the day, That's somewhat sure; a mighty sum of murder, That need grew pamper'd, and forgot to pray. Of innocent and kindred blood struck off: DRDEN. My prayers and penances shall discount for Behold the heav'ns! thither thine eyesight bend; these, Thy looks, sighs, tears, for intercessors send. And beg of Heav'n to charge the bill on me. FAIRFAX. DRYDEN. The midnight clock attests my fervent pray'rs, Nor can my strength avail, unless, by thee The rising sun my orisons declares. Endued with force, I gain the victory. WALTER HARTE. DRYDEN. Half useless doom'd to live, Pray'rs and advice are all I have to give. He said: the careful couple join their tears, And then invoke the gods with pious prayers. DRYDEN. Honest designs Justly resemble our devotions, By some haycock, or some shady thorn, Which we must pay and wait for the reward. He bids his beads both evensong and morn. SIR ROBERT HOWARD. DRYDEN. Still raise for good the supplicating voice, She fumed the temples with an od'rous flame, But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice. And oft before the sacred altars came, DR. S. JOHNSON.'lo pray for him who was an empty name. Lowly they bow'd, adoring, and began DRYDEN. Their orisons, each morning duly paid. Some astral forms I must invoke by pray'r, MILTON. Framed all of purest atoms of the air; So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts Not in their natures simply good or ill, Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm. But most subservient to bad spirits' will. MILTON. DRYDEN. If by pray'r Then pray'd that she might still possess his Incessant I could hope to change the will heart, Of Him who all things can, I would not cease And no pretending rival share a part: To weary Him with my assiduous cries. This last petition heard of all her pray'r. MILTON. DRYhIEN. But that from us aught should ascend to heav'n The flames ascend on either altar clear, So prevalent as to concern the mind While thus the blameless maid address'd her Of God high blest, or to incline his will, pray'r. Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer. DRYDEN. MILTON. PRA YER. 427 Their prayeis clad Through threaten'd lands they wild destruction With incense, where the golden altar fumed throw, By their great intercessor. Till ardent prayer averts the public woe. MILTON. PRIOR. Sighs now breathed Man's plea to man is, that he never more Unutterable, while the spirit of prayer Will beg, and that he never begg'd before: Inspired, and wing'd for heav'n with speedier Man's plea to God is, that he did obtain flight A former suit, and therefore sues again: Than loudest oratory. MILTON., How good a God we serve; that, when we sue, Since I sought Makes his old gifts th' examples of his new! By pray'r th' offended deity t' appease, QUARLES. Methought I saw him placable and mild, Bending his ear. Heaven is the magazine wherein God puts MILTON. Both good and evil; prayer's the key that shuts And opens this great treasure;'tis a key To pray'r, repentance, and obedience due, Whose wards are Faith,'and Hope, and Charity. Though but endeavour'd, with sincere intent, Thouhbut, withsnce, Would'st thou prevent a judgment due to sin? Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut.t tht MILTON. Turn but the key, and thou mayest lock it in. Or would'st thou have a blessing fall upon thee I! Night is the time to pray: Our Saviour oft withdrew Open the door, and it will shower on thee. Our Saviour oft withdrew To desert mountains far away: QUARLES. So will his followers do,- Temporal blessings heaven doth often share Steal from the throng to haunts untrod, Unto the wicked, at the good man's prayer. And commune there alone with God. QUARLES. JAMES MONTGOMERY. First worship God; he that forgets to pray A sad estate Bids not himself Good-morrow nor Good-day. Of human wretchedness! so weak is man, T. RANDOLPH. So ignorant and blind, that did not God But God my soul shall disenthral; Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask, For I upon his name will call. We should be ruin'd at our own request. SANDYS. HANNAH MORE: Moses. My prayers Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days; Are not words dulyhallow'd, nor my wishes Pray'r all his business, all his pleasure praise. More worth than vanities: yet prayrs and PARNELL: Hermzit. wishes I was not born for courts or great affairs; Are all I can return. I pay my debts, believe, and say my prayers. SHAKISPEARE. POPE. We that know what'tis to fast and pray Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain: Are penitent for your default to-day. Nor tears, for ages taught to flow in vain. SHAKSPEA RE. POPE. Not sleeping, to engross his idle body, Thou that canst still the raging of the seas, But praying, to enrich his watchful soul. Chain up the winds, and bid the tempests cease, SHAKSPEARE. Redeem my shipwreck'd soul from raging gusts Go you, and where you find a maid Of cruel passion and deceitful lusts. That ere she sleep hath thrice her prayers said, PRIOR. Rein up the organs of her fantasy: O reason! once again to thee I call; Sleep she as sound as careless infancy. Accept my sorrow, and retrieve my fall. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. Rather let my head While to high heav'n his pious breathings turn'd, Stoop to the block, than these knees bow to any, Weeping he hoped, and sacrificing mourn'd. Save to the God of heav'n, and to my king. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. 428 PRA YER. O God! if my deep pray'rs cannot appease thee, Last night- the very gods show'd me a vision But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, (I fast, and pray'd, for their intelligence). Yet execute thy wrath on me alone. SHAKSPEARE, SHAKSPEARE. He cannot thrive WVhen with wood leaves and weeds I've strew'dUnless her prayers, whom heavn delights to his grave, hear And on it said a century of pray'rs, And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh. Of greatest justice. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Whereto serves mercy W~hereto serves mercy WBMTe, ignorant of ourselves, But to confront the visage of offence? Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers And what's in prayer but this twofold force, — Deny us for our good; so find we profit To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, By losing of our prayers. Or pardon'd, being down? Then I'll look up: SHAKSPEARE. My fault is past. SHAKSPEARE. Are you so gospell'd, To thee I do commend my watchful soul, To pray for this good man, and for his issue, Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes: Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave Sleeping or waking, oh, defend me still! And beggar'd yours forever? SHAKSPEARE. If you bethink yourself of any crime In thy danger, Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, If ever danger do environ thee, Solicit for it straight. Commend thy grievance to my holy prayer. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night; Go with me, like good angels, to my end; For I have need of many orisons And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, To move the heavens to smile upon my state, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of And lift my soul to heav'n. sin. SHARSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Thou dost the prayers of the righteous seed Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. Present before the majesty divine, SHAKSPEARE. And his avenging wrath to clemency incline. SPENSER. When holy and devout religious men Are at their beads,'tis hard to draw them There was a holy chapel edified, thence, Wherein the hermit wont to say So sweet is zealous contemplation. His holy things each morn and eventide. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. You have scarce time To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span Which when his pensive lady saw fiom far, To keep your earthly audit. Great woe and sorrow did her soul assay, SHAKSPEARE. As weening that the sad end of the war, And'gan to highest God entirely pray. Let hinm alone: SPENSER. I'll follow him no more with bootless pray'rs: He seeks my life. In his own church he keeps a seat, SHAKSPEARE. Says grace before and after meat, I have tow'rd heaven breathed a secret vow, And calls, without affecting airs, To live in pray'r and contemplation. His household twice a day to prayers. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT PRJA YER.-PREA CHING. 429 More things are wrought by prayer Is not the care of souls a load sufficient? Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy Are not your holy stipends paid for this? voice Were you not bred apart from worldly noise, Rise like a fountain for me night and day: To study souls, their cures and their diseases? For what are men better than sheep or goats, The province of the soul is large enough That nourish a blind life within the brain, To fill up every cranny of your time, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer And leave you much to answer, if one wretch Both for themselves and those who call them Be damn'd by your neglect. friend! D RYDEN. For so the whole round world is evfery way The proud he tamed, the penitent he cheer'd; Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd. TENNYSON. His preaching much, but more his practice While pray'rs and tears his destined progress wrought stay, (A living sermon of the truths he taught): And crowds of mourners choke their sov'reign's For this by rules severe his life he squared,' way. That all might see the doctrine which they TICKELL. heard. DRYDEN. So earnest with thy God: can no new care, No sense of danger, interrupt thy prayer? He taught the gospel rather than the law, The sacred wrestler, till a blessing given, And forced himself to drive, but loved to draw. Quits not his hold, but, halting, conquers heav'n. DRYDEN. WALLER. He preach'd the joys of heaven, and pains of They had no stomach o'er a grace to nod, hell, Nor time enough to offer thanks to God; And warn'd the sinner with becoming zeal: That might be done, they wisely knew, But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. When they had nothing else to do. DRYDEN. DR. WOLCOTT. With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd; Prayer ardent opens heaven. Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher YOUNG: Agzit Tlougk/ts. charm'd. DRYDEN. Religious men, who hither must be sent PREACHING. As awful guides of heavenly government; I preach'd as never sure to preach again, To teach you penance, fasts, and abstinence, And as a dying man to dying men. To punish bodies for the soul's offence. And as a dying man to dying men. R. BAXTER: DRYDEN. -Love Breathing T7hanks and Praise. Compute the gains of his ungovern'd zeal: Sermons he heard, yet not so many Ill suits his cloth the praise of railing well. As left no time to practise any: DRYDEN. He heard them reverently, and then Divines but peep on undiscovered worlds, His practice preach'd them o'er again. And draw the distant landscape as they please; CRASHAW. But who has e'er return'd from those bright Did I for this take pains to teach regions, Our zealous ignorants to preach? To tell their manners, and relate their laws? SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Wide was his parish, not contracted close Now through the land his care of souls he In streets, but here and there a straggling house; stretch'd, Yet still he was at hand, without request, And like a primitive apostle preach'd; To serve the sick, to succour the distressid, Still cheerful, ever constant to his call; Tempting on foot, alone, without affright, By many follow'd, loved by most, admired The dangers of a dark tempestuous night. by all. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 430 PREA CHING. —PRES UMP TIO. -PRIDE. Priests are patterns for the rest; He bought her sermons, psalms, and graces, The gold of heav'n, who bear the god im- And doubled down the useful places. press'd: PRIOR. But when the precious coin is kept unclean, It is a good divine that follows his own instrucThe sov'reign's image is no longer seen: tions. If they be foul on whom the people trust, SHAKSPEARE. Well may the baser brass contract a rust. You, and all the kings of Christendom, DRYDEN. Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, Dreading the curse that money may buy out. By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour; SHAKSPEARE. Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize: Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; GOLDSMITH: Deser'ed Villafe. GOLDSMITH: Deseed Village. Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, And, as a bird its fond endearment tries Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, And recks not his own read. He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, SHAKSPEARE. Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Ah, I see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty GOLDSMITH: Deserted Village. Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway; With a little hoard of maxims preaching down And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray. a daughter's heart! GOLDSMITH: Deseirted illage. TENNYSON. Judge not the preacher, for he is thy judge; If thou mistake him, thou conceiv'st him not. HERBERT. PRESUMPTION. A verse may find him who a sermon flies, Do you, who study nature's works, decide, And turn delight into a sacrifice. Whilst I the dark mysterious cause admire; HERBERT. Nor into what the gods conceal, presumptuously A reverend sire among them came, inquire. ADDISON. Who preach'd conversion and repentance. MILTON. God, to remove his ways from human sense, Placed heav'n from earth so far, that earthly He of their wicked ways Shall them admonish, and before them set sigt, The paths of righteousness. If it presume, might err in things too high, The paths of righteousness. MILTON. I And no advantage gain. MILTON. Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, But of this frame, the bearing and the ties, Who all the sacred mysteries of heav'n The strong connections, nice dependencies, To their own vile advantages shall turn. Gradations just,has thy pervading soul MILTON. Look'd through? or can a part contain the whole? To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, POPE. Who never mentions hell to ears polite. Pvc OPEle. In vain we lift up our presumptuous eyes To what our Maker to their ken denies; Pulpits their sacred satire learn'd to spare, The searcher follows fast, the object flies. And vice admired to find a flatt'rer there. PRIOR. POPE. Rev'rent I touch thee! but with honest zeal To rouse the watchman of the public weal, To virtue's work provoke the tardy hall, He swells with angry pride, And goad the prelate slumb'ring in his stall. And calls forth all his spots on every side. POPE. COWLEY. PRIDE. 431 How poor a thing is pride! when all, as slaves, Of all the causes which conspire to blind Differ but in their fetters, not their graves. Man's erring judgment, and imisguide the mind, DANIEL: Civil War. What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools. This stiff-neck'd pride nor art nor force can bend,iling vice of fools. bPOPE. Nor high-flown hopes to reason's lure descend. SIR J. DENHAM. What flatt'ring scenes our wand'ring fancy wrought, Thou, thyself, thus insolent in state, wrought, Rome's pompous glories rising to our thought. Art but perhaps some country magistrate, POPE. Whose power extends no farther than to speak Big on the bench, and scanty weights to break. Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, DRYDEN. And fills up all the mighty void of sense. POPE. With dumb pride, and a set formal face, He moves in the dull ceremonial track, Pride then was not; nor arts, that pride to aid; With Jove's embroider'd coat upon his back. Man walk'd with beast joint-tenant of the shade. DRYDEN. POPE. That sting infix'd within her haughty mind, But mortals know,'tis still our greatest pride And her proud heart with secret sorrow pined. To blaze those virtues which the good would DRYDEN. hide. POPE. I have discern'd the foe securely lie, Too proud to fear a beaten enemy. Thus unlamented pass the proud away, DRYDEN. The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day. POPE. If some pride with want may be allow'd, We in our plainness may be justly proud: Whatever nature has in worth denied, Whate'er he's pleased to own can need no show. She gives in large recruits of needful pride. DRYDEN. POPE. Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, From our lost pursuit she wills to hide I see the lords of human kind pass by. Her close decrees, and chastens human pride. GOLDSMITH: Tr}aveller. PRIOR. Pride push'd forth buds at ev'ry branching Pride (of all others the most dangerous fault) shoot, Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought. And virtue shrunk almost beneath the root. The men who labour and digest things most WALTER HIARTE. Will be much apter to despond than boast; Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, For if your author be profoundly good, Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers,'Twill cost you dear before he's understood. Worshipp'd with temple, priest, and sacrifice. ROsCOzMON. MILTON. How justly then will impious mortals fall, Thy pride, Whose pride would soar to heav'n without a call! And wand'ring vanity, when ieast was safe, ROSCOMMON. Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd ~~~~Not to be trusted. ~Pride hath no other glass Not to be trusted. MILTON. To show itself, but pride; for supple knees Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies; SIIAKSPEARE. All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies: Pride still is aiming at the bless'd abodes, What fire is in my ears? Can this be true? Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, much? Aspiring to be angels men rebel; And who but wishes to invert the laws A falcon tow'ring in her pride of place, Of order, sins against th' Eternal cause. Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 432 PRIDER. PR 0 CRAS TINA TION. -PR OP OR TION. If thou didst put this sour cold habit on "Pride was not made for men;" a conscious To castigate thy pride,'twere well. sense SHAKSPEARE. Of guilt and folly, and their consequence, Destroys the claim, and to beholders tells Take physic, pomp! 3~Here nothing but the shape of manhood dwells. Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel. WALLER. SHAKSPEARE. Fancy and pride seek things at vast expense Let frantic Talbot triumph for awhile, Which relish not to reason, nor to sense. And, like a peacock, sweep along his tail: YOUNG. We'll pull his plumes, and take away his train. SHAKSPEARE. My gravity, PROCRASTINATION. Wherein-let no man hear me —I take pride, Let us take the instant by the forward top; Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume, For we are old, and on our quick decrees Which the air beats for vain. Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of time SHAKSPEARE. Steals, ere we can effect them. SHAKSPEARE. Who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party? Omission to do what is necessary, Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea? Seals a commission to a blank of danger. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKS PEARE. Fair proud, now tell me why should fair be Shun delays, they breed remorse; proud, Take thy time while time is lent thee; Sith all world's glory is but dross unclean, Creeping snails have weakest force; And in the shade of death itself shall shroud, Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee, However now thereof ye little ween. Good is best when soonest wrought, SPENSER. Lingering labours come to naught. SOUTHWELL. What man is he, that boasts of fleshly might, And Tvain assurance of mortality; At thirty, man suspects himself a fool; Which all so soon as it doth come to fight Knows it at forty, and reforms his plans; Against spiritual foes, yields by and by. At fifty, chides his infamous delay, SPENSER. Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; Fair when that cloud of pride, which oft doth In all the magnanimity of thought darek Resolves; and re-resolves; then dies the same. YOUNG: * J/~Z/t Thtozughts. Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away. SPENSER. Squalid fortune, into baseness flung, Doth scorn the pride of wonted ornaments. PROPORTION. SPENSER. All things received do such proportion take Spite of all the fools that pride has made, As those things have wherein they are re-'Tis not on man a useless burthen laid; ceived; Pride has ennobled some, and some disgraced; So little glasses little faces make, It hurts not in itself, but as'tis placed: And narrow webs on narrow frames are When right, its views know none but virtue's weaved. bound; SIR J. DAvIES. When wrong, it scarcely looks one inch around. Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear BENJ. STILLINGF~]LEET. Consider'd singly, or beheld too near, He paid his courtship with the crowd, Which but proportion'd to their site or place, As far as modest pride allow'd. Due distance reconciles to form and grace. SWIFT. POPE. PR OP OSA LS. -PR OSPERITY 433 PROPOSALS. Perhaps this cruel nymph well knows to feign Forbidding speech, coy looks, and cold disdain, On you, most loved, with anxious fear I wait, To raise his passion: such are female arts, And from your judgment must expect my fate. To To hold in safer snares inconstant hearts. ADDISON. GAY: Dione. "Yes!" I answer'd you last night; To me he came; my heart with rapture sprung, " No!" this morning, sir, I say! To see the blushes when his faltering tongue Flowers seen by candle-light First said, " I love." My eyes consent reveal, Will not look the same by day. And plighted vows our faithful passion seal. MRS. BROWNING. GAY: Dionze. Now what could artless Jennie do? It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, She hadna will to say him " Na;" At lenth she bushd a sweet consent, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, At length she blush'd a sweet consent, That woman's love can win; And love was ay between the twa. -BURNS. But what it is, hard is to say, harder to hit. MILTON, Like a lovely tree Lik a lovely tree Shall I go on?-Or have I said enough? She grew to womanhood, and betweenwhiles MILTON. Rejected several suitors, just to learn How to accept a better in his turn.'Tis you, alone, can save, or give my doom. BYRON. OVID. But yet she listen'd, -'tis enough:- She half consents who silently denies. Who listens once will listen twice; OVID. Her heart, be sure, is not of ice; Her heart, be sure, is not of ice; The very thoughts of change I hate, And one refusal's no rebuff. As much as of despair; BYRON: YMazeip2a. Nor ever covet to be great, Then through my brain the thought did pass, Unless it be for her. Even as a flash of lightning there, PARNELL. That there was something in her air He that will not when he may, Which would not doom me to despair. When he would shall have. " Nay." BYRON: Mae/zeppa. Proverb. Do I not in plainest truth Never wedding, ever wooing, Stil alve-medding, hvear puing, Tell you-I do not, nor I cannot love you? Still a love-lorn heart pursuing, SHAKSPEARE. Read you not the wrong you're doing, In my cheek's pale hue? W'on by the charm All my life with sorrow strewing: Of goodness irresistible, and all Wed, or cease to woo. In sweet confusion lost, she blush'd assent. CAMPBELL. THOMSON. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes, and modest grace; PROSPERITY. For well she knew I could not choose More in prosperity is reason tost But gaze upon her face. COLERIDGE. Than ships in storms, their helms and anchors lost. She held my hand, the destined blow to break, SIR J. DENHAM. Then from her rosy lips began to speak. e More ships in calms on a deceitful coast, DRYDEnN. Or unseen rocks, than in high storms are lost. Take my esteem, if you on that can live; SIR J. DENHAM. But frankly, sir,'tis all I have to give. Of both our fortunes, good and bad, we find DRYDEN. Prosperity more searching of the mind: If you oblige me suddenly to choose, Felicity flies o'er the wall, and fence, My choice is made-and I must you refuse. While misery keeps in with patience. DRYDEN. HERRICK. 28 434 PR OSPERITY — PR 0 VIDENCE. When fortune raiseth to the greatest height, Go, mark the matchless working of the power The happy man should most suppress his state; That shuts within the seed the future flower; Expecting still a change of things to find, Bids these in elegance of form excel, And fearing, when the gods appear too kind. In colour these, and those delight the smell; SIR ROBERT HOWARD. Sends Nature forth, the daughter of the skies, To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes. To rise i' th' world COWPER. COWPER. No wise man that's honest should expect. OTWAY. At the whisper of thy word Crown'd abundance spreads my board. Who stands safest? tell me, is it he CRASHAW. That spreads and swells in puff'd prosperity? PoPE. What mists of providence are these, Through which we cannot see? Naught unprosperous shall thy ways attend, So saints by supernatural power set free Born with good omens, and with heav'n thy Are left at last in martyrdom to die. friend. DRYDEN. POPE. Purblind mall Sees but a part o' th' chain; the nearest links;:Should therefore fear them; and when fortune s sHis eyes not carrying to that equal beam -Bedoubsmlesy cautiouslestdestructioncom That poises all above. Be doubly cautious, lest destruction come DRYDEN and LEE. Remorseless on him, and he fall unpitied. SOPHOCLES: Pziloctetes. You sit above, and see vain men below Contend for what you only can bestow.'Prosperity, inviting every sense DRYDEN. With various arts to unprovide my mind;'What but a Spartan spirit can sustain Intrust thy fortune to the powers above:'The shocks of such temptations? Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant SOUTHERN. What their unerring wisdom sees thee want. In goodness as in greatness they excel: ~Prosiperity puts out unnumber'd thoughts, Ah, that we loved ourselves but half so well!'Of import high, and light divine, to man. DRYDEN. YOUNG.'Tis thine, whate'er is pleasant, good, or fair; All nature is thy province, life thy care. PROVIDENCE.DRYDEN.'The ways of Heaven are dark and intricate, They had such firm dependence on the day, Puzzled in mazes and perplex'd with errors; That need grew pamper'd, and forgot to pray; Our understanding traces them in vain, So sure the dole, so ready at their call, Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search, They stood prepared to see the manna fall. Nor sees with how much art the windings run, DRYDEN. Nor where the regular confusion ends. Shall ignorance of good and ill ADDISON: Ciato. Dare to direct th' eternal will? Seek virtue; and of that possess'd, One part; one little part, we dimly scan, To Providence resign the rest. Through the dark medium of life's fevering To Providence resign the rest. dThrough GAY: Fables. dream; Yet dare arraign the whole stupendous plan, Providence, not niggardly but wise, If but that little part incongruous seem, Here lavishly bestows, and there denies, Nor is that part perhaps what mortals deem. That by each other's virtues we may rise. BEATTIE: Mzizstre.' GRANVILLE. This thin, this soft contexture of the air If then his providence Sh'ows the wise Author's providential care. Out of our evil seek to bring forth good. SIR R. BLACKMORE. MILTON. PRO VIDENCE. 435 What is low raise and support, Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, That to the highth of this great argument A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, I may assert eternal Providence, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And justify the ways of God to men. And now a bubble burst, and now a world. MILTON. POPE, Observe And all the question (wrangle e'er so long) IHis providence, and on him sole depend, Is only this, If God has placed him wrong? Merciful over all his works; with good POPE. Still overcoming evil. MILTON. Who bid the stork, Columbus-like, explore We need not fear Heavens not his own, and worlds unknown To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd before? By him with many comforts, till we end Who calls the council, states the certain day, In dust, our final rest and native home. Who forms the phalanx, and who points the MILTON. way? All is best, though we often doubt POPE. What th' unsearchable dispose Who finds not Providence all good and wise, Of highest wisdom brings about, Alike in what it gives and what denies? And ever best found in the close. MILTON. Eye me, bless'd Providence, and square my Behold Sir Balaam, now a man of spirit, trial - Ascribe his gettings to his parts and merit; To my proportion'd strength! What late he call'd a blessing, now was wit, MILTON. And God's good providence a lucky hit. Lead, kindly light, amid th' encircling gloom, POPE. Lead thou me on! From storms of rage, and dangerous rocks of The night is dark, and I am far from home: pide Lead thou me on: Let thy strong hand this little vessel guide; Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see It was thy hand that made it: through the tide The distant way: one step's enough for me. Impetuous of this life let thy command J. H. NEWMAN. Direct my course and bring me safe to land. All nature is but art unknown to thee; PRIOR. All chance direction, which thou canst not see; All discord harmony not understood; Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, All partial evil universal good: When our deep plots do pall; and that should And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, teach us One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right. There's a divinity that shapes our ends, POPE. Rough-hew them how we will. Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense SHAKSPEARE. Weigh thy opinion against Providence; It is not so with Him that all things knows Call imperfection what thou fanciest such As'tis with us, that square our guess by shows: Say, here he gives too little, there too much: But most it is presumptuous in us, when Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust, The help of heav'n we count the act of men. Yet say, if man's unhappy, God's unjust. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. He that doth the ravens feed, Cease, then, nor order imperfection name: Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. for Be comfort to my age. Know thy own point; this kind, this due degree SHAKSPEARE. Of blindness, weakness, Ileav'n bestows on thee. Submit-in this or any other sphere: Eternal providence exceeding thought, Secure to be as bless'd as thou canst bear.'Where none appears, can make herself a way. POPE. SPENSER. 436 PR UDENCE. -PUNISHffEN2T.-.Q UA1RRELS. This is thy work, Almighty Providence! When any great designs thou dost intend, Whose power, beyond the reach of human Think on the means, the manner, and the end. thought, SIR J. DENHAM. Revolves the orbs of empire; bids them sink Deep in the dead'ni'g night of thy displeasure, All grant him prudent; prudence interest weighs, Or rise majestic o'er a wondering world. And interest bids him seek your love and praise. THOMSON: Coriolants. DRYIEN. Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye, Prudence! thou vainly in our youth art sought, Looks down with pity on the feeble toil And with age purchased, art too dearly bought,Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe We're past the use of wit, for which we toil: Through all the dreary labyrinth of fate. Late fruit, and planted on too cold a soil. THOMSON: Seasons. DRYDEN. Do thou, my soul, the destined period wait, When God shall solve the dark decrees of fate, PUNISHMENT. His now unequal dispensations clear, And make all wise and beautiful appear. The next in place and punishment were they TICKELL. Who prodigally threw their souls away. DRYDEN. PRUDENCE. Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us, without hope of end. Look forward what's to come, and back what's Must exercise us, without hope of end. MITION. past; Thy life will be with praise and prudence graced: We bid this be done, What loss or gain may follow, thou mayst guess; When evil deeds have their permissive pass, Thou then wilt be secure of the success. And not the punishment. SIR J. DENHAM. SHAKSPEARE. QUARRELS. The best quarrels in the heat are curst By those that feel their sharpness. I thought your love eternal: was it tied SHAKSPEARE. So loosely that a quarrel could divide? DRYDEN. Now we'll together, and the chance of goodness Be like our warranted quarrel. You with your foes combine, SHAKSPEARE. And seem your own destruction to design. DRYDEN. What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! Dissensions, like small streams, are first begun: SHAKSPEARE. Scarce seen they rise, but gather as they run; Combine together'gainst the enemy; So lines that from their parallel decline, For these domestic and particular broils More they proceed the more they still disjoin. Are not the question here. SHArSPEARE. GARTH. The broil long doubtful stood; Glad of a quarrel, strait I clap the door. As two spent swimmers that do cling together, POPE. And choak their art. SHAKSPEARE. Forced by my pride, I my concern express'd; Instead of love-enliven'd cheeks, Pretended drowsiness, and wish of rest; With flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, And sullen I forsook th' imperfect feast. Suffused and glaring with untender fire. PRIOR. THOMSON. QUO TA TIONS.-RA GE. -RAIN. 437 - QUOT~ATIONS. He ranged his tropes, and preach'd up patience, Back'd his opinion with quotations. Allthis he understood by rote, PRIOR. And as occasion served would quote. - BUTLER: Hzdibras. From the table of my memory I'll wipe away all saws of books. With just enough of learning to misquote. SHAKSPEARE. BYRON: Endf. Bards and Scot. Reviewers. Nature's fair table-book, our tender souls, Strict age and sour severity We scrawl all o'er with old and empty rules, With their grave saws in slumber lie. Stale memorandums of the schools. MILTON. SWIFT. He liked those literary cooks Some for renown on scraps of learning dote, Who skim the cream of others' books, And think they grow immortal as they quote. And ruin half an author's graces To patch-work learn'd quotations are allied, By plucking. bon-mots from their places. But strive to make our poverty our pride. HANNAH MORE: Florio. YOUNG: Love of Fame. RAGE. And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage At this the knight grew high in chafe, Until the golden circuit on my head And, staring furiously on Ralph, Do calm the fury of this mad-brain'd flaw. SHAKSPEARE. He trembled. BUTLER: Hudibras. Her intercession chafed him so,'Twas grief no more, or grief and rage were When she for thy repeal was suppliant, one That to close prison he commanded her. Within her soul; at last'twas rage alone; SHAKSPEARE. Which, burning upwards, in succession dries The tears that stood considering in her eyes. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care DRYDEN. Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are. SHAKSPEARE. Her colour changed, her face was not the same, And hollow groans from her deep spirit came; Her hair stood up; convulsive rage possess'd Her trembling limbs, and heaved her lab'ring RAIN. breast. DRYDEN. The combat thickens, like the storm that flies From westward when the show'ry scuds arise, Breathless and tired, is all my fury spent? Or patt'ring hail comes pouring on the main, Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain. DRYDEN. ADDISON. The fiend replied not, overcome with rage, Foul with stains But, like a proud steed rein'd, went haughty on, Of gushing torrents and descending rains. Champing his iron curb. - MILTON. ADDISON. I remember, when the fight was done, These, when condensed, the airy region pours When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, On the dry earth in rain or gentle showers; Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Th' insinuating drops sink through the sand, Came there a certain lord. And pass the porous strainers of the land. SHAKSPEARE. SIR R. BLACKMORE. 438 RAIN. Careful observers may foretell the hour Across the window-pane (By sure prognostics) when to dread a shower: It pours and pours;,While rain depends, the pensive cat gives o'er And swift and wide, Her follies, and pursues her tail no more. With a muddy tide, If you be wise, then go not far to dine; Like a river down the gutter roars You'll spend in coach-hire more than save in The rain, the welcome rain! wine. LONGFELLOW: Raisz ii Stzimmer. A coming shower your shooting corns presage; All the cataracts Old aches will throb, your hollow tooth will rage. BROOME. Of heaven, set open, on the earth shall pour BROOME. Rain, day and night. In sheets of rain the sky descends, MILTON. And ocean swell'd with waters upwards tends; One rising, falling one, the heavens and sea And now the thicken'd sky Meet at their confines in the middle way. Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the DRYDEN. rain impetuous. MILTON. The kids with pleasure browse the bushy plain; Usher'd with a shower still The showers are grateful to the swelling grain. When the gust bath blown his fill, DRYDEN. Ending. on the rustling leaves, Return, unhappy swain! With minute drops from off the eaves. The spongy clouds are fill'd with gath'ring rain. MILTON. DRYDELN. The sun more glad impress'd his beams, Frowning Auster seeks the Southern sphere, Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, And rots with endless rain th' unwholesome year. When God had show'r'd the earth. DRYDEN. MILTON. The ladies and the knights, no shelter nigh, The show'ry arch Were dropping wet, disconsolate and wan, Delights and puzzles the beholder's eyes And through their thin array received the rain. That views the wat rybrede with thousand shows DRYDEN. Of painture varied; yet unskill'd to tell Or where one colour rises, or one faints. The clouds are still above; and while I speak, JOHN PHILIPS. A second deluge o'er our heads may break. DRYDEN'. Ye heavens, from high the dewy nectar pour, And in soft silence shed the kindly show'r. He first that useful secret did explain, POPE. That pricking corns foretold the gath'ring rain. GAY. All nature mourns, the skies relent in show'rs, Hush'd are the birds, and closed the drooping When the swinging signs your ears offend With creaking noise, then rainy floods impend. GAY. If Delia smile, the flow'rs begin to spring, Good housewives, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing. Good housewives, Defended by th' umbrella's oily shed, Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread. There silver drops like morning dew GAY. Foretell the fervour of the day; How beautiful is the rain! So from one cloud soft show'rs we view After the dust and heat, And blasting lightning burst away. In the broad and fiery street, PcPE. In the narrow lane, See daily show'rs rejoice the thirsty earth, How beautiful is the rain! And bless the flow'ry buds' succeeding birth. PRIOR. How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs! How vapours, turn'd to clouds, obscure the sky; How it gushes and struggles out And clouds, dissolved, the thirsty ground supply. From the throat of the overflowing spout! ROSCOM4MON. RA IN-. -RA SHNIESS. -REA DING. 439 O earth! I will befriend thee more with rain Blind of the future, and by rage misled, Thani youthful April shall with all his showers: He pulls his crimes upon his people's head. In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. We may outrun By violent swiftness that which we run at, Now in contiguous drops the flood comes down, And lose by overrunning. Threat'ning with deluge this devoted town. SHAKSPEARE. To shops in crowds the draggled females fly, Pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy. READING. SWIFT. Uncertain whose the narrower span, The zephyrs floating loose, the timely rains, Nov soften'd into joy the surly storms. The clown unread, or half-read gentleman. DRYDEN. THOMSON. Volumes on shelter'd stalls expanded lie, T knTreehOMSON. And various science rules the learned eye; THOMSON. The bending shelves with ponderous scholiasts The clouds consign their treasures to the fields, groan, And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool And deep divines, to modern shops unknown: Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, Here, like the bee, that on industrious wing In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world. Collects the various odours of the spring, THOMSON. Walkers at leisure learning's flowers may spoil, Ye fostering breezes, blow; Nor watch the wasting of the midnight oil; Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend. May morals snatch from Plutarch's tatter'd page, THOMSON. A mildew'd Bacon, or Stagyra's sage; Here sauntering'prentices o'er Otway weep, The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard, O'er Congreve smile, over D'Urfey sleep; Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves. Pleased sempstresses the Lock's famed Rape Pleased sempstresses the Lock's famed Rape THOMSON. unfold, Vex'd sailors curse the rain And squirts read Garth till apozems grow cold. For which poor shepherds pray'd in vain. GAY: Trivia. WALLER. Who reads The hollow wind, and melancholy rain, Incessantly, and to his reading brings not Or did, or was imagined to, complain; A spirit and judgment equal or superior, The tapers cast an inauspicious light; Uncertain and unsettled still remains: Stars there were none, and doubly dark the Deep-versed in books, but shallow in himself. iright. MILTON: Paradise Regained. YOUNG: bfrce of Rehfieion. Silent companions of the lonely hour, Friends who can never alter or forsake, RASHNESS. MtWho for inconstant roving have no power, And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take, — Must one rash word, th' infirmity of age, Let me return to You; this turmoil ending Throw down the merit of my better years? Which worldly cares have in my spirit This the reward of a whole life of service wrought, ADDISON. And, o'er your old familiar pages bending, All great concernments must delays endure; Refresh my mind with many a tranquil Rashness and haste make all things unsecure; thought, And if uncertain thy pretensions be, Till haply meeting there, from time to time, Stay till fit time wear out uncertainty. Fancies, the audible echo of my own, SIR J. DENHAM.'Twill be like hearing in a foreign clime My native language spoke in friendly tone; I was too hasty to condemn unheard; And with a sort of welcome I shall dwell And you, perhaps, too prompt in your replies. On these, my unripe musings, told so well. DRYDEN. MRS. NORTON: To My Books. 440 REASON. For thee I dim these eyes, and stuff this head, When she rates things, and moves fiom ground With all such reading as was never read. to ground, POPE. The name of reason she obtains by this: But when by reason she the truth hath found, To part her time'twixt reading and bohea, And standeth fix'd, she understanding is. Or' o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon. SIR J. DAVIES. POPE. As soon as Ph(ebus' rays inspect us, And as if beasts conceived what reason were, First, sir, I read, and then I breakfast. And that conception should distinctly show, PRIOR. They should the name of reasonable bear; For without reason none could reason know. Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young, SIR J. DAVIES. And you shall read when mine begins to dazzle. SHAKSPEARE. That whereby we reason, live, and be Within ourselves, we strangers are thereto. He is a worthy gentleman, Exceedingly well read, and profited In strange concealments.'Tis disingenuous to accuse our age SHAKSPEARE. Of idleness, who all our powers engage In the same studies, the same course to hold, REASON. Nor think our reason for new arts too old. SIR J. DENHAM. Our understanding traces them in vain, Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search. Speculation; which to my dark soul, ADDISON. Deprived of reason, is as indiscernible As colours to my body, wanting sight. He brings, to make us from our ground retire, As colours to my body, wanting sight. The reasoner's weapons and the poet's fire.. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Clear-sighted reason, wisdom's judgment leads, S~ome talk of an appeal unto some passion, And sense, her vassal, in her footsteps treads. Some to men's feelings, others to their reason; SIR J. DENHAM. The last of these was never much the fashion, Reason was given to curb our headstrong will, For reason thinks all reasoning out of season. And yet but shows a weak physician's skill; BYRON. Gives nothing while the raging fit doth last, Within the brain's most secret cells But stays to cure it when the worst is past. A certain lord chief justice dwells, Reason's a staff for age when nature's gone: Of sov'reign power, whom one and all But youth is strong enough to walk alone. With common voice we "Reason" call. DRYDEN. CHURCHILL. Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars'Tis Reason's part To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, ~T~o govern and to guard the heart, Is reason to the soul; and as on high To lull the wayward soul to rest, Those rolling fires discover but the sky,When hopes and fears distract the breast; Not light us here,-so reason's glimmering ray Reason may~ calm this doubtful strife, Was lent. not to assure our doubtful way, And steer thy bark through various life. But guide us upward to a better day. COTTON. And as those nightly tapers disappear When reason's lamp, which, like the sun in sky, When day's bright lord ascends the hemisphere, Throughout man's little world her beams did So pale grows reason at religion's light,spread,, So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. Is now become a sparkle, which doth lie DRYDEN. Under the ashes, half extinct and dead. Under the ashes, half extinct and dead. How void of reason are our hopes and fears! SIR J. DAVIES. What in the conduct of our life appears And marrying divers principles and grounds, So well design'd, so luckily begun,.Out of their match a true conclusion brings. But when we have our wish, we wish undone? SIR J. DAVIES. DRYDEN, -REASON. 441 If your own actions on your will you ground, For not to irksome toil, but to delight Mine shall hereafter know no other bound. He made us, and delight to reason join'd. DRYDEN. MILTON. These as thy guards from outward harms are Know'st thou not sent; Their language, and their ways? They also Ills from within thy reason must prevent. know, DRYDEN. And reason not contemptibly. MILTON. At this, with look serene, he raised his head, Reason resumed her place, and passion fled. Life and sense, DRYDE N. Fancy and understanding: whence the soul Reason receives, and reason is her being. To sharp-eyed reason this would seem untrue; MILTON. But reason I through love's false optics view. ut eason I through loves false optics view. These reasons in love's law have past for good, DRYDEN. Though fond and reasonless to some. The golden age was first; when man, yet new, MILTON. No rule but uncorrupted reason knew, Reason, however able, cool at best, And with a native bent did good pursue. Cares not for service, or but serves when prest, DRYDEN. Stays till we call, and then not often near; But honest instinct comes a volunteer; I come to calm thy turbulence of mind, Sure never to o'ershoot, but just to hit; If reason will resume her sov'reign sway. While still too wide or short in human wit. DRYDEN. POPE. Let reason then at her own quarry fly; Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise: But how can finite grasp infinity? DRYDEN.But how ca finite grasp infinity His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies. POPE. Among th' assertors of free reason's claim, Afflicted sense thou kindly dost set free Our nation's not the least in worth or fame. Oppress'd with argumental tyranny; DRYDEN. And routed reason finds a safe retreat in thee. Then thy straight rule set virtue in my sight, POPE. The crooked line reforming by the right; On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, My reason took the bent of thy command, Reason the card, but passion is the gale. Was form'd and polish'd by thy skilful hand. POPE. DRYvDEN. The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Reason! the hoary dotard's dull directress, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? That loses all because she hazards nothing: POPE. Reason! tim'rous pilot, that, to shun There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The rocks of life, forever flies the port. DR. JOHNSON: Irene. The feast of reason and the flow of soul. DR. JOHNSON: repze. POPE. On better thoughts, and my urged reasons, In awful pomp, and melancholy state, They are come about, and won to the true side. See settled reason in the judgment-seat; BEN JONSON. Around her crowd distrust, and doubt, and fear, The soul And thoughtful foresight, and tormenting care. Reason receives, and reason is her being, PRIOR. Discoursive or intuitive; discourse Repine not, nor reply; Is oftest yours, the latter is most ours. View not what heav'n ordains with reason's eye; MIL TON: For bright the object is, the distance is too high. Reason, not impossibly, may meet PRIOR. Some specious object by the foe suborn'd, Forced by reflective reason, I confess And fall into deception unaware. That human science is uncertain guess. MILTON. PRIOR. 442 REASON. REBELLION. Into myself my reason's eye I turn'd; Reason's progressive; Instinct is complete; And as I much reflected, much I mourn'd. Swift Instinct leaps; slow Reason feebly climbs. PRIOR. Brutes soon their zenith reach. In ages they No more could know, do, covet, or enjoy. True faith and reason are the soul's two eyes: Were man to live coeval with the sun Faith evermore looks upward, and descries The patriarch pupil would be learning still. Objects remote; but reason can discover YOUNG: Nio~/t T/ioZts. Things only near,-sees nothing that's above her. QUARLES. REBELLION. Wilt thou thy idle rage by reason prove, O think what anxious moments pass between Or speak those thoughts which have no power Or speak those thoughts which have no power The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods! to move? SANDYS. O'tis a dreadful interval of time, Made up of horror all, and big with death. Sure He that made us with such large discourse, ADDISON. Loolkina before and after, gave us not Great discontents there are, and many murmurs; That capability and godlike reason That capability and godlike reason The doors are all shut up: the wealthier sort, To rust in us unused. SHAKSPEuARE. dWith arms across, and hats upon their eyes, Walk to and fro before their silent shops; Now see that noble and that sovereign reason, Whole droves of lenders crowd the bankers' Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune, and harsh. doors, SHAKSPEARE. To call in money: those who have none, mark Where money goes; for when they rise-'tis Many that are not mad plunder. Have sure more lack of reason. DRYD.EN: Spanish Fi-iar. SHAKSPEARE. As when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd, Let cavillers deny Mad are their motions, and their tongues are That brutes have reason; sure'tis something loud. DRYDEN. mrlore; When by their designing leaders taught'Tis heaven directs, and stratagems inspires, To strike at pow'r which for themselves they Beyond the short extent of human thought. sought, SOMERVILE: Czase. The vulgar, gull'd into rebellion arm'd, He that is of reason's slkill bereft, Their blood to action by their prize was warm'd. DRYDEN. And wants the staff of wisdom him to stay, Is like a ship in midst of tempest left, Against the public sanctions of the.peace, Without an helm or pilot her to sway: Against all omens of their ill success, Full sad and dreadful is that ship's event; With fates averse, the rout in arms resort So is the man that wants intendiment. To force their monarch and insult the court. SPENSER. DRYDEN. Everything that is begun with reason My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd; Will come by ready means unto his end; Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud. But things miscounselled must needs miswend. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Sure thou art born to some peculiar fate, I was promised on a time When the mad people rise against the state, To have reason for my rhyme: To look them into duty, and command From that time unto this season An awful silence with thy lifted hand. I received nor rhyme nor reason. DRYDEN. SPENSER. Scarce hadst thou time t' unsheath thy conWe reason with such fluency and fire, qu'ring blade; The beaux we baffle, and the learned tire. It did but glitter, and the rebels fled. TICKELL. GRANVILLE. REBELLOON. 443 Let them call-it mischief: Thou, with rebel insolence, didst dare When it's past and prosper'd,'twill be virtue. To own and to protect that hoary ruffian, BEN JONSON: Catiline. And, in despite ev'n of thy father's justice, To stir the factious rabble up to arms. Th' eternal eye, whose sight discerns ROWE. Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount, And from within the golden lamps that burn -Remember him, the villain, righteous heaven, Nightly before him, saw, without their light, In thy great day of vengeance! blast the traitor, Rebellion rising. MILTON,. And his pernicious counsels, who for wealth, For pow'r, the pride of greatness, or revenge, He trusted to have equall'd the Most High,, Would plunge his native land in civil wars! If he opposed; and, with ambitious aim, RO e Sore. Against the throne and monarchy of God Raised impious war. MILTON. In soothing them, we ncurish'gainst our senate The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Rumour next, and chance, Rumour next, and chance, Which we ourselves have plow'd for, sow'd, and And tumult and confusion all embroil'd,scatter'd And discord with a thousand various mouths. By mingling them with us, the honour'd number. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. New rebellions raise In a rebellion, Their hydra heads, and the false North displays When what's not meet, but what must be, was Her broken league, to imp their serpent wings. law, MILTON. Then were they chosen. SHAKSPEARE. That talking knave If that rebellion Consumes his time in speeches to the rabble, And sows sedition up and down the city; Came like itself, in base and abject routs, And sows sedition up and down the city; Picking up discontented fools; belying Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags, The senators and government; destroying And countenanced by boys and beggary; Faith among honest men, and praising knaves. I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd, OTWAY: Calgs.trizts. In his true, native, and most proper shape, You, reverend father, and these noble lords, And since the rabble now is ours, Had not been here, to dress the ugly form Keep the fools hot; preach dangers in their ears; Of base and bloody insurrection Spread false reports o' th' senate; working up With your fair honours. Their madness to a fury quick and desp'rate: SHAKSPEARE. Till they run headlong into civil discords, Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, And do our bus'ness with their own destruction. Meeting the check of such another day. OTWAY: Caius A/aonius. SHAKSPEARE. Can we forget how the mad headstrong rout Defied their prince to arms, nor made account Our discontented counties do revolt; Of faith, or duty, or allegiance sworn? Our people quarrel with obedience. JOHN PHILIPS. SHAKSPEARE. The rebel knave who dares his prince engage All the regions Proves the just victim of his royal rage. Do seemingly revolt; and who resist POPE. Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, Still arose some rebel slave, And perish constant fools. SHAKSPEARE. Prompter to sink the state than he to save. PRIOR. A mighty and a fearful head they are, As ever offer'd foul play in a state. His youth with wants and hardships must engage; d foul play in a state. SHAKSPEARE. Plots and rebellions must disturb his age. PRIOR. It shows a will most incorrect to heav'n; No rebel Titan's sacrilegious crime, A heart unfortified, a mind impatient; By heaping hills on hills, can thither climb. An understanding simple and unschool'd. ROSCOMMON. SHAKSPEARE. 444 REBELLION-. -REDEMP'TION. Where there is advantage to be given, And now, without redemption, all mankind Both more and less have given him the revolt; Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell And none serve with him, but constrained things, By doom severe. Whose hearts are absent too. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Heav'nly powers, where shall we find such love? I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Which of ye will e ortal to redeem 9 2 Which of ye will be mortal to redeem Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, an's mortal crime; and just, th' unjust to save? Even in the presence of the crowned king. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. By that seed Were now the general of our gracious empress, Is meant the great deliverer, who shall bruise As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, Aingoa, f, The serpent's head; whereof to thee anon Bringing rebellion broached on his sword. Plainlier shall be reveald. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. Their weapons only Their weapons ony We, by rightful doom remediless, Seem'd on our side; but for their spirits and Were lost in death, till he that welt above souls, Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust This word rebellion, it had froze them up, Emptied his glory. As fish are in a pond. SHAKS-PEARE. MILTON. Lend me your guards, that, if persuasion fail, Me, his advocate Force may against the mutinous prevail. And propitiation; all his works on me, WALLER. Good, or not good, ingraft. MILTON. Next to the Son, REDEMPTION. Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom Heaven's king, who doffs himself our flesh to New heav'n and earth shall to the ages rise, wear, Or down from heav'n descend. wear~~~~~~~~~~, ~MILTON. Comes not to rule in wrath, but serve in love. CRASHAW.' Thy punishment If here not clear'd, no suretiship can bail He shall endure, by coming in the flesh Condemned debtors from th' eternal gaol. To a reproachful life and cursed death. SIR J. DENHAM. MILTON. The Saviour Son be glorified, All the prophets in their age, the times Who for lost man's redemption died. Of great Messiah sing. DRYDEN. D RYHEN. MILTON. At his birth a star proclaims him come, Look humble upward; see His will disclose The forfeit first, and then the fine impose; nd guides the Easten sages, wo inquire A mulct thy poverty could never pay, His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold. Had not eternal wisdom found the way.. DRYDEN. He grants what they besought; Yet nothing still: then poor and naked come; Instructed, that to God is no access, Thy Father will receive his unthrift home, Without Mediator; whose high office now And thy blest Saviour's blood discharge the Moses in figure bears. mighty sum. DRYDEN. Die he or justice must; unless for him From him will raise Some other able, and as willing, pay A mighty nation; and upon him show'r The rigid satisfaction, death for death. His benediction so, that in his seed MILTON. All nations shall be blest. MILTON. For so our holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, Man's friend, his mediator, his design'd Anid with his father work us a perpetual peace. Both ransom and redeemer voluntary. MILTON. MILTON. REDEMP TION. -RErFORMA1 TION. — RELIGION. 445 When they see REFO RMATION. Law can discover sin, but not remove,'Tis not to cry God mercy, of to sit Sa-ve by those shadowy expiations weak, And droop, or to confess that thou hast fail'd: The blood of bulls and goats, they may con-'Tis to bewail the sins thou didst commit, clude And not commit those sins thou hast bewail'd. Some blood more precious must be paid for He that bewails and not forsakes them too man. MILTON. Confesses rather what he means to do. This the happy morn QUARLES. Wherein the Son of heav'n's eternal King Habitual evils change not on a sudden, Our great redemption from above did bring! MIITON. But many days must pass, and many sorrows; Conscious remorse and anguish must be felt, He, here with us to be, To curb desire, to break the stubborn will, Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And work a second nature in the soul, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal Ere virtue can resume the place she lost. clay. MILTON. ROWE: Ulysses. With me They say best men are moulded out of faults, All my redeem'd may dwell, in joy and bliss. And, for the most, become much more the better MILTON. For being a little bad:-so may my husband. To him, to him'tis giv'n SHAKSPEARE. Passion, and care, and anguish to destroy; Through him soft peace, and plenitude of joy, Yet time serves, wherein you may redeem Perpetual o'er the world redeem'd shall flow. Your banish'd honours, and restore yourselves PRIOR. Into the good thoughts of the world again. SHAKSPEARE. Midst thy own flock, great shepherd, be received; And glad all heaven with millions thou hast Heav'n doth know, so shall the world perceive, saved. That I have turn'd away my former self; PRIOR. So will I those that kept me company. Thou who for me didst feel such pain, SHAKSPEARE. Whose precious blood the cross did stain, I do not shame Let not those agonies be vain. To tell you what I was, since my conversion FgRnmoscoaMo oON. So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. Forget not what my ransom cost, SHAKSPEARE. Nor let my dear-bought soul be lost. RosCOMMON. RELIGION. There where the virgin's son his doctrine taught, His miracles, and our redemption, wrought; Where I, by thee inspired, his praises sung, Ungodly actions; but respect the right, And in the works of pious men delight. And on his sepulchre my offering hung. And in the worksof pious men delight. SANDYS. CHAPMAN. Who ever sees these irreligious men, All the souls that are, were forfeit once; Who ever sees these irreligious men, All theoulst are werforeitnce With burthen of a sickness weak and faint And he that might the'vantage best have took But hears them talking of religion then, SHAKSPEARE. And vowing of their souls to ev'ry saint? I every day expect an embassage SIR J. DAVIES. From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; When was there ever cursed atheist brought And now in peace my soul shall part to heav'n. Unto the gibbet, but he did adore SHAKSPEARE. That blessed pow'r which he had set at naught? But on his breast a bloody cross he bore, SIR J. DAVIES. The dear resemblance of his dying Lord; True piety without cessation tost. For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he By theories, the practic part is lost. wore. SPENSER. SIR J. DENIAM. 446 RELIGION. — REM iEDIES. — REM ORSE. Her heart was that strange bush, whose sacred As some to church repair, fire Not for the doctrine, but the music there. Religion did not consume, but inspire POPE. Such piety, so chaste use of God's day, Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, That what we turn'd to feast, she turn'd to pray. But looks through nature up to nature's God. DONNE. POPE. For who will have his work his wished ends to In religion, win, What damned error, but some sober brow Let him with hearty pray'r religious begin. Will bless it, and approve it with a text? DRAYTON. SHAKSPEARE. In cottages and lowly cells Traditions were a proof alone, True piety neglected dwells; Could we be certain such they were, so known; Till call'd to heav'n, its native seat, But since some flaws in long descents may be, Where the good man alone is great. They make not truth, but probability. SOMERVILE. DRYDEN. Her guiltless glory just Britannia draws Th' unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross, From pure religion and impartial laws. Plods on to heav'n, and ne'er is at a loss. TICKELL. DRYDEN..True Christianity depends on act: Seeming devotion doth but gild the knave, Religion is not theory, hut act. That's neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave; Religion is not theory, but act. WALTER HARTE. But when religion doth with virtue join, It makes a hero like an angel shine. Convinced that noiseless piety might dwell WALLER, In secular retreats, and flourish well. She decently in form pays heav'n its clue, WALTER HARTE: And makes a civil visit to her pew. Restore to God his due in tithe and time: YOUNG. A tithe purloin'd cankers the whole estate. GEORGE HERBERT. REMEDIES. Religion stands on tiptoe in our land, What may be remedy or cure Ready to pass to the American strand. To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought GEORGE HERBERT. MILTON. The rest, far greater part, Will deem in outward rites and specious forms Things without all remedy Religion satisfied. MILTON. Should be without regard. SHAKSPEARE. Who was that just man, whom had not heav'n I shall find time Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost? From this enormous state, and seek to give MILTON. Losses their remedies. Say, first, of God above, or man below, SHAKSPEARE. What can we reason but from what we know? Of man, what see we but his station here, REMORSE. From which to reason, or to which refer? Through worlds unnumberd though the God be He died that death which best becomes a man Through worlds unnumber'd though the God be kWho is with keenest sense of conscious ill' knisowrs to trace him on, ly i our own. And deep remorse assail'd, a wounded spirit.'Tis ours to trace him only in our own. A death that kills the noble and the brave, POPE. And only them. He had no other wound. For virtue's self may too much zeal be had: JOANNA BAILLIE: De Moz.fobrLt The worst of madmen is a saint run mad. The talents lost-the moments run POPE. To waste-the sins of act, of thoughtWho builds a church to God, and not to fame, Ten thousand deeds of folly done, Will never mark the marble with his name. And countless virtues cherish'd not. POPE. SIR J. BOWRING. JRElMORSE. —REPENTA,4NC'E. 447 So do the dark in soul expire, Nero would be tainted with remorse Or live like scorpion girt by fire; To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. So writhes the mind remorse hath riven, SHAKSPEARE. Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven; — Unnatural deeds Darkness above, despair beneath, Darkness above, despair beneath, Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds Around it flame, within it death! BYRON: Giar. To their deaf pillows will discharge their BYRON: Giaour. secrets. Remorse is as the heart in which it grows: More needs she the divine than the physician. If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews SHAKSPEARE. Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, The image of a wicked, heinous fault It is a poison-tree, that, pierced to th' inmost, in his eye; that close aspect of his Weeps only tears of blood. Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast. COLERIDGE. SHAKSPEARE. Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself can find, A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, REPENTANCE. Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, Condemns the wretch, and still the charge Priest, spare thy words! I add not to my sins renews. \DRYDEN. That of presumption, in pretending now Can he a son to soft remorse incite\ To offer up to heav'n the forced repentance Of some short moments for a life of crimes. Whom gaols, and blood, and butchery delight? JOANNA BAILLIE: Orra. JOANNA BAILLIE: Orrg. DRYDEN. Man should do nothing that he should repent; Remorse for vice But if he have, and say that he is sorry, Not paid, or paid inadequate in price, It is a worse fault if he be not truly. What farther means can reason now direct? BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. DRYDEN. High minds of native pride and force If the past Must deeply feel thy pangs, remorse! Can hope a pardon, by those mutual bonds Must deeply feel thy pangs, remorse! Nature has seal'd between us, which, though I Fear for their scourge mean villains have; Thou art the torturer of the br ave cancell'd, thou hast still preserved invioThou art the torturer of the brave. SCOTT: frmtion. late, I beg thy pardon. SIR J. DENHAM. If thou dost slander her, and torture me, Never pray more: ahandon all remorse; My future days shall be one whole contrition; On horror's head horrors accumulate: A chapel will I build with large endowment, Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth Where ev'ry day an hundred aged men,amazed; Shall all hold up their wither'd hands to heav'n. amazed; For nothing canst thou to damnation add DRYDEN. Greater than that. SHAKSPEARE. My father has repented him ere now, Or will repent him when he finds me dead. Urge them, while their souls DRYDEN. Are capable of this ambition; Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath Part in peace, and, having mourn'd your sin, Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, For outward Eden lost, find paradise within. C9Qol and congeal again to what it was. DRYDEN. SHAISPEARE. 0 seek not to convince me of a crime Stop up th' access and passage to remorse, Which I can ne'er repent, nor can you pardon. That no compunctious visitings of nature DRYDEN. Shake my fell purpose. SHAKSPEARE. The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal, As well we know your tenderness of heart, From the first moment of his vital breath And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse. To his last hour of unrepenting death. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. 448.REPEINTA 41CE. As in unrepented sin she died, Repent the sin; but if the punishment Doom'd to the same bad place, is punish'd for Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids. her pride. DRYDEN. MILTON. Frailty gets pardon by submissiveness, I will clear their senses dark But he that boasts shuts that out of his story; What may suffice, and soften stony hearts He makes flat war with God, and doth defy, To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. With his poor clod of earth, the spacious sky. MILTON. GEORGE HERBERT. Timely advised, the coming evil shun; Bad men excuse their faults, good men will Better not do the deed, than weep it done. leave them: PRIOR. He acts the third crime that defends the first. Sweet tastes have sour closes; BEN JONSON. And he repents on thorns that sleeps in beds For true repentance never comes too late: of roses. As soon as born she makes herself a shroud, QUARLES: EVIbeMs. The weeping mantle of a fleecy cloud, Reprove not in their wrath incensed men; And swift as thought her airy journey takes: Good counsel comes cean out of season then: Her hand heaven's azure gate with trembling But when his fury is appeased and past, strikes. He will conceive his fault, and mend at last: The stars do with amazement on her look: SdWhen he is cool and calm, then utter it: She tells her stoy in so sa a tone No man gives physic in the midst o' th' fit. That angels start from bliss, and give a groan. THOMnAS RANDOLPH. LEE. Repentance often finds too late My unprepared and unrepenting breath To wound us is to harden; Was snatch'd away by the swift hand of death. And Love is on the verge of Hate ROSCOMMON. Each time it stoops for pardon. Who by repentance is not satisfied SIR E. G. E. L. B. LYTTON. Is not of heav'n nor earth; for these are pleased; Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and death, ptence the Eternal's wrath's appeased. By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased. Thus due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure, many days Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou may'st repent, If you bethink yourself of any crime And one bad act with many deeds well done Unreconciled as yet to heav'n and grace, Mayst cover. MILTON. Solicit for it straight. SHAKSPEARE. He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite: I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, My motions in him; longer than they move, To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield His heart I know, how variable and vain To Christian intercessors. SHAKSPEARE. Self-left. MILTON. What is done cannot be now amended: Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which after hours give leisure to repent. Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees SHAKSPEARE. Of Paradise could have produced. MILTON. As that the sin bath Repent you not, MILTON. AS that the sin hath brought you to this shame, He of their wicked ways Which sorrow's always tow'rds ourselves, not Shall them admonish, denouncing wrath to heav'n. SHAKSPEARE. come Hasty wrath, and heedless hazardry, On their imrnpenitence. MILTON. Do breed repentance late, and lasting infamy. Yet he at length, time to himself best known, SPENSER. Rememb'ring Abraham, by some wondrous call She, bitter penance! with an iron whip May bring them back repentant and sincere. Was wont him to disciple every day. MILTON. SPENSER. RLESZGNA TION. -REST. —-RES URRE C.IOI. 449 So let us, which this change of weather view, The grave, where ev'n the great find rest. Change eke our minds, and former lives POPE. amend; amendi; Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go. The old year's sins forepast let us eschew, Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go. POPE. And fly the faults with which we did offend. SPENSER. Thy constant quiet fills my peaceful breast With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted rest. Repentance clothes in grass and flowers r ROSCOMMON. The grave in which the past is laid. JOHN STERLING. Begone,.my cares! I give you to the winds. ROWE. He that lacks time to mourn lacks time to mend: But sith now safe ye seized have the shore, Eternity mourns that. And well arrived are, high God be blest; HENRY TAYLOR: P/iZiip Van A rtevelde. Let us devise of ease and everlasting rest. SPENSER. What so strong, RESIGNATION. But, wanting rest, will also want of might? To be resign'd when ills betide, The sun, that measures heaven all day long, Patient when favours are denied, At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves. And pleased with favours given; among, Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part; This is that incense of the heart Rest to the limbs, and quiet I confer Whose fragrance smells to heaven. On troubled minds. NATHANIEL COTTON. WALLER. Happy the man who studies nature's laws, His mind possessing in a quiet state, RESURRECTION. Fearless of fortune, and resign'd to fate. Let those deplore their doom DRYLDEN. Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn; The good we have enjoy'd from heaven's free But lofty souls can look beyond the tomb, will; Can smile at fate, and wonder how they mourn. And shall we murmur to endure the ill? Shall Spring to these sad scenes no more return? DRYDEN. Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed? A firm yet cautious mind, Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn, Sincere, though prudent, constant, yet resign'c. And Spring shall soon her vital infuence shed,. POPE. Again attune the grove, again adorn the mead. BEATTIE. A man that fortune's buffets and rewards This mightier sound shall make Has ta'en with equal thanks. SHARKSPIEARE. The dead to rise, And open tombs and open eyes To the long sluggards of five thousand years. REST. COWLEY. Where can a frail man hide him? in what arms Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, Shall a short life enjoy a little rest? The wakeful trump of doom must thunder FANSHAWE. through the deep. Thus let me hold thee to my heart, MILTON. And every care resign; From this grave, this dust, And we shall never-never part, My God shall raise me up, I trust. Oh, thou, my all that's mine! SIR W. RALEIGH. GOLDSMITH. The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound Thy presence only'tis can make me bless'cl, Shall through the rending tombs rebound, Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul! And wake the nations under ground. OTWAY. ROSCOMMONo 29 450 RE TIREMENT. — RE VENGE. Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, The haunts of meditation; No resurrection know? Shall man alone, The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring. Imperial man! be sown in barren ground, breath Less privileged than grain, on which he feeds? Ecstatic felt, and, from this world retired, YOUNG: NzglIz't Thoug/ats. Conversed with angels and immortal forms, On gracious errands bent; to save the fall Of virtue struggling on the brink of vice. THOMSON. RETIREMENT. RETIREMENT. How much they err who, to their interest blind, So thy fair hand, enamour'd fancy! gleans Slight the calm peace which from retirement The treasured pictures of a thousand years; flows! Thy pencil traces on the lover's thoughts And while they think their fleeting joys to bind, Some cottage-home, from towns and toil remote, Banish the tranquil bliss which heav'n for man Where love and lore may calm alternate hours, design'd! With peace embosom'd in Idalian bowers! MRS. TIGHE: Psyche. Remote from busy life's bewilder'd way, O'er all his heart shall taste and beauty sway. CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Hope. REVENGE..And oft,.as ease and health retire -And oft, as ease and health retir6 When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish, To breezy lawn or forest deep, The gods behold their punishment with pleasure, The friend shall view yon whitening spire, And lay th' uplifted thunder-bolt aside. And'mid the varied landscape weep: ADDISON. But thou, who own'st that earthy bed, Ah! what will every dirge avail? Suffering is sweet when honour doth adorn it. COLLINS: Ode on Thomison. Who slights revenge? not he that fears, but scorns it. No plots th' alarm to his retirements give; BUCKINGHAM.'Tis all mankind's concern that he should live. DRYDEN. And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power But all is calm in this eternal sleep: Which could evade, if unforgiven, Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep; The patient search and vigil long Ev'n superstition loses every fear; Of him who treasures up a wrong. For God, not man, absolves our frailties here. BYRON: Azewar. BYRON: fazeppa. POPE. Revenge is lost in agony, Sclplo, And wild remorse to rage succeeds.'Great in his triumphs, in retirement great. BYRON. POPE. The fairest action of our human life From the loud camp retired, and noisy court, Is scorning to revenge an injury; In honourable ease and rural sport For who forgives without a further strife, The remnant of his days he safely past; His adversary's heart to him doth tie: Nor found they lagg'd too slow, nor flew too And'tis a firmer conquest, truly said, fast. To win the heart than overthrow the head. He made his wish with his estate comply, LADY ELIZ. CAREW: zliriam. Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die. One child he had,-a daughter, chaste and fair, Revenge impatient Hubert proudly sought; His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir. Revenge, which, ev'n when just, the wise PRIOR,. deride: For on past wrongs we spend our time and Thus in soft anguish she consumes the day, thought, Nor quits her deep retirement. Which scarce against the future can provide. THOMSON. SIR WV. DAVENANT: Gondibeir. RE VENGE. 451 If happiness be a substantial good, A fire which every windy passion blows; Not framed of accidents, nor subject to them, With fire it mounts, and with revenge it glows. I err'd to seek it in a blind revenge. DRYDEN. SIR J. DENHAM. I but revenge my fate, disdain'd, betray'd, If our hard fortune no compassion draws, And suff'ring death for this ungrateful maid. The gods are just, and will revenge our cause. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Not tied to rules of policy, you find Darah, the eldest, bears a generous mind, Revenge less sweet than a forgiving mind. But to implacable revenge inclined; DRYDEN. A bounteous master, but a deadly foe. How rash, how inconsiderate is rage! DRYDEN. How wretched, oh! how fatal is our error, So, while my loved revenge is full and high, When to revenge precipitate we run! I'll give you back your kingdom by the by. Revenge, that still with double force recoils DRYDEN. Back on itself, and is its own revenge! While to the short-lived momentary joy Revenge is now my joy: he's not for me, eAnd g'll make sure he nejer shall be for thee, Succeeds a train of woes, an age of torments. And I'll make sure he ne'er shall be for thee. FROWDE: Pizilotas. DRYDEN. Revenge, at first, though sweet, In weak complaints you vainly waste your Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils. breath; They are not tears that can revenge his death. MILTON. DRYDEN. Some much averse I found, and wondrous Revenge is sure, though sometimes slowly paced; harsh, Awake, awake, or, sleeping, sleep thy last. Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite. DRYDEN. MILTON. He chleer'd the dogs to follow her who fled, One sole desire, one passion, now remains, And vow'd revenge on her devoted head. To keep life's fever still within his veins,DRYDEN. Vengeance, dire vengeance, on the wretch who cast Y.four change was wise; for had she been deYour change was wise; for had she been de- O'er him and all he loved that ruinous blast; nied, ~~nie~~~~ed, ~For this he still lives on, careless of all A swift revenge had follow'd from her pride: on The wreaths that glory on his path lets fall; You from my gentle nature had no fears; You from my gentle nature had fears; For this alone exists,-like lightning fire All my revenge is only in my tears. To speed one bolt of vengeance, and expire! DRYDEN. DRYDENMOORE: Lalla Rookh. Hadst thou full power to kill, Or measure out his torments by thy will, Not unappeased he pass'd the Stygian gate, Yet what couldst thou, tormentor, hope to gain? Who leaves -a brother to revenge his fate. Thy loss continues unrepaid by pain. POPE. DRYDEN. They often tread destruction's horrid path, What though his mighty soul his grief contains? And drink the dregs of the revenger's wrath. He meditates revenge who least complains: SANDYS. And like a lion slumb'ring in his way, le is his Haste me to know it, that I with wings as swift Or sleep dissembling while he waits his prey, As meditation or the thoughts of love His fearless foes within his distance draws, May sweep to my revenge. Constrains his roaring, and contracts his paws: SHAMSPEARE. Till at the last, his time for fury found, HEe shoots with sudden vengeance from the That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword groundc: That it shall render vengeance and revenge, The prostrate vulgar passes o'er and spares, Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie But, with a lordly rage, his hunters tears. In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. 45 2 RiFE TORIC. -RNHYME. —RICIHES. If that your moody discontented souls Ere Gothic forms were known in Greece, Do through the clouds behold this present hour, And in our verse ere monkish rhymes Even for revenge mock my destruction. Had jangled their fantastic chimes. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. In one consort there sat As much love in rhyme, Cruel revenge, and rancorous despite, As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper Disloyal treason, and heart-burning hate. Writ on bota sides the leaf, margent and all. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. Rather than not accomplish my revenge, Just or unjust, I would the world unhinge. RICHES. WALLER. And, to be plain,'tis not your person That my stomach's set so sharp on; RHETORIC. But'tis your better part, your riches, That my enamour'd heart bewitches. Boldly perform'd with rhetorician pride, BUTLER: ficzdlibras. To hold of any question either side. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Abundance is a blessing to the wise; The use of riches in discretion lies: For rhetoric he could not ope. For rhetoric e could not ope Learn this, ye men of wealth, a heavy purse His mouth, but out there flew a trope. In a fool's pocket is a heavy curse. BUTLER: Ilzudhlaz's. CUMBERLAND: Meznanzde-r. His sober lips then did he softly part, When we are well, our hearts are set, Whence of pure rhetoric whole streams outflow. Which way we care not, to be rich or great. FAIRFAX. SIR J. DENHAM. Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, Fond men, by passions wilfully betray'd, That hath so well been taught her dazzling Adore those idols which their fancy made: fence. Purchasing riches with our time and care, MILTON. We lose our fieedom in a gilded snare. Here foam'd rebellious logic, gagg'd and bouncl;SIR J. DENHAM. There, stript, fair rhetoric languish'd on the Some pray for riches, riches they obtain; ground. But, watch'd by robbers,.for their wealth are POPE. slain. DRYDEN. The heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes. SHAKSPEARE. Riches cannot rescue from the grave, Which claims alike the monarch and the slave. DRYDEN. RHYME. His best companions innocence and health, For rhyme the rudder is of verses, And his best riches ignorance of wealth. With which, like ships, they steer their courses. GOLDSMITI-H: DZcselSed Village. BUTLER: Hulib;-as. The needy traveller, serene and gay, TWalks the wide heath, and sings his toil away: The action great, yet circumscribed by time;. Does envy seize thee? crush the upbraiding The words not forced, but sliding into rhyme. DRYDEN. oy, Increase his riches, and his peace destroy. Rhymer, come on, and do the worst you can: DR. S. JOHNSON: Vanity ofliu2nizanl Wishes. I fear not you, nor yet a better man. Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools, DRYDEN. The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt Strain out the last dull droppings of your sense, To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, An'd rhyme with all the rage of impotence. Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. POPE. MILTON: Paradnise Regained. RIDICUE'. -RIVAL S. —RIVERS. 453 Riches, like insects, while conceal'd they lie, Like one of two contending in a prize, Wait but for wings, and in their seasons fly; That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes. To whom can riches give repute and trust, SHAKSPEARE. Content or pleasure, but the good and just? Judges and senates have been bought for gold; RIVERS. Esteem and love are never to be sold. Sometimes, misguided by the' tuneful throng, POPE. I look'd for streams immortalized in song, What riches give us, let us first inquire: That lost in silence and oblivion lie; Meat, fire, and clothes: what more? meat, Dumb' are their fountains, and their channels clothes, and fire. dry, POPE. That run forever by the muse's skill, The devil was piqued such saintship to behold, And in the smooth description murmur still. And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old; ADDISON. But Satan now is wiser than of yore, Here the loud Arno's boist'rous clamours cease, And tempts by making rich, not making poor. That with submissive murmurs glides in peace. POPE. ADDISON. Purchasing riches with our time and care, Such was the Boyne, a poor, inglorious stream, We lose our freedom in a gilded snare. That in Hibernian vales obscurely stray'd, ROSCOMMON. And, unobserved, in wild meanders play'd. ADDISON. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor; For like an ass, whose back's with iligots bound, They view the windings of the hoary Nar; Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, Through rocks and woods impetuously he glides, And death unloadeth thee. While froth and foam the fretting surface hides. And death unloadeth thee. SHAKSPEARE. ADDISON. Wings that rule Can wealth give happiness? look round and see ehind the Kings that rule Behind the hidden sources of the Nile. What gay distress! what splendid misery!'ADDISON. Whatever fortune lavishly can pour, The mind annihilates, and caplls for inre. Whole rivers here forsake the fields below; The mind annihilates, and calls for more. YOUNG: Love of Eame. And, wond'ring at their height, through airy channels flow. ADDISON. RIDICULE. Tell by what paths, what subterranean ways, Back to the fountain's head the sea conveys Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time, e es tyme, The refluent rivers, and the land repays. Slides in a verse, or hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burden of some merry song. While ling'ring rivers in meanders glide, POPE. They scatter verdant life on either side. SIR R. BLACKMIORE. Those who aim at ridicule Should fix upon some certain rule, How many nations of the sunburnt soil Which fairly hints they are in jest. Does Niger bless? how many drink the Nile? SWIFT. SIR R. BLACKRMORE. How many spacious countries does the Rhine, In winding banks, and mazes serpentine, Traverse, before he splits on Belgia's plain, Portius himself oft falls in tears before me, And, lost in sand, creeps to the German main? As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success. SIR R. BLACKMORE. ADDISON. Is it not better then to be alone, If one must be rejected, one succeed, And love earth only for its earthy sake? Make him my lord within whose faithful breast By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone, Is fix'd my image, and who loves me best. Or the pure bosom of the musing lake. DRYDEN. BYRON: Ciilde Han old. 454 RZVERS. Into earth's spongy veins the ocean sinks, Just before the confines of the wood, Those rivers to replenish which he drinks. The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. As rivers lost in seas, some secret vein Its length runs level with the Atlantic main, Thence reconveys, there to be lost again. And wearies fruitful Nilus to convey SIR J. DENHAM. His sunbeat waters by so long a way. DRYDEN. 0 could I flow like thee, and make thy stream nM/y great example, as thou art my theme!I The doubled charge his subjects' love supplies, Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not Who, in that bounty, to themselves are kind: dull- So glad Egyptians see their Nilus rise, Strong, without rage; without o'erflowing, full. And in his plenty their abundance find. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN: Ann. Mirab. Heav'n her Eridanus no more shall boast, Nilus opens wide Whose fame in thine, like lesser current's lost; His arms and ample bosom to the tide. Thy nobler stream shall visit Jove's abodes, To shine among the stars, and bathe the gods. Nile hears him knocking at his sevenfold gates, SIR J. DENHAM. And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his The stream is so transparent, pure, and clear, nephews' fates. DRYDEN. That, had the self-enamour'd youth gazed here, He but the bottom, not his face, had seen. Some did the song, and some the.choir mainSIR J. DENHAM. tain, Beneath a laurel shade, where mighty Po But if with bays and dams they strive to force Mounts up to woods above, and hides his head His channel to a new or narrow course, below. No longer then within his banks he dwells; DRYDEN. First to a torrent, then a deluge, swells. The silver Thames, her own domestic flood, SIR J. DENHAM. Shall bear her vessels, like a sweeping train; My eye, descending from the hill, surveys And often wind, as of his mistress proud, Where Tharmes along the wanton valley strays. With longing eyes to meet her face again. SIR J. DENIIAM. DRYDEN. Gentle Thames, Propitious Tiber smooth'd his wat'ry way, The mighty master's emblem, in whose face He roll'd his river back, and poised he stood, Sate meekness, heighten'd with majestic grace. A gentle swelling and a peaceful flood. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. Swift rivers are with sudden ice constrain'd, hat fun'ral pomp shall floating Tiber see, And studded wheels are on its back sustain'd; When, rising from his bed, he views the sad soAn hostry now for wagons, wvhich before lemuity D DRYDEN. Full ships of burden on its bosom bore. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The Tiber Insults our wvalls and wastes our fruitful fields. Who blindfold walks upon a river's brim, DRYDEN. When he should see, has he deserved to swim? DRYDEN. The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread, And trembling Tiber dived beneath his bed. He adds the running springs and standing lakes, DRYDEN. And bounding banks for winding rivers makes. And see the rivers, how they run DRY1DEN. Through woods and meads, in shade and sun; From Medway's pleasant stream Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, To Severn's roar be thine: Wave succeeding wave, they go In short, restore my love, and share my king- A various journey to the deep, dom. Like human life to endless sleep! DRYDEN. DYER: G-ron6ar' Hill. RIVERS. 455 455 Thames' fruitful tides In those fair vales by nature form'd to please, Slow through the vale in silver volumes play. Where Guadalquivir serpentines with ease. FENTO.N. WALTER HARTE. Those grateful groves that shade the plain, Fast by the margin of her native flood, Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main, Whose wealthy waters are unknown to fame, And flattens, as he runs, the,fair campaign. Fair as the bordering flowers the princess stood, GARTH. And rich in bounty as the gen'rous stream. Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, HEYWOOD. Or by the lazy Scheld, or wandering Po. Tall are the oaks whose acorns GOLDSMITH: Traveller. Drop in dark Auser's rill; How often have I led thy sportive choir, Fat are the stags that champ the boughs With tuneless pipe, beside the murm'ring Loire! Of the Ciminian hill; Where shading elms along the margin grew, Beyond all streams, Clitumnus And freshen'd from the wave the zephyr flew. Is to the herdsman dear; GOLDShMITH: Tnraveller. Best of all pools the fowler loves Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, The great Volsinian mere. And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes glide. LORD MACAULAY: Lays of Ancient Rome. GOLDSMITH: Traveller. Hail, gentle stream! forever dear How pleasant came thy rushing, silver Tweed! Thy rudest murmurs to mine ear Upoln my ear swheln, after roaming long Torn from thy banks, though far I rove, In southern plains, I've reach'd thy lovely bank! The slave of poverty and love, How bright, renowned Sark, thy little stream, e'er shall thy bard, where'er he be, Like ray of column'd light chasing a shower, Without a sigh remember thee Would cross my homeward path! how sweet JOHN MAYNE: To the Rivere Nii. the sound From his side two rivers flow'd, WYhen I, to hear the Doric tongue's reply, From his side two rivers fow'd, Would ask thy well-known name. The one winding, th' other straight, and left Would ask thy well-known name. between JAMES GRAHAME: Sabbath. Fair champaign, with less rivers intervein'd In Thames, the ocean's darling, England's pride,MILTON. The pleasing emblem of his reign does glide. HALIFAX. The river of life, through midst of heaven, Ye shepherds of this pleasant vale Rolls o'er elysian flowers her amber stream. Where Yarrow streams along, MILTON. Forsake your rural toils, and join God bade the ground be dry, In my triumphant song. All but between those banks where rivers now WILLIAM HAMILTON: Sonl. Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. The hills and dales no more resound MILTON. The lambkins' tender cry; Rivers, arise! whether thou be the son W~ithout one murmur y.arrow stole Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Dun, In dimpling silence b Ly.Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, WILLIAM HAMILTON: Song. speads spreads The hills and dales again resound His thirty arms along the indented meads; The lambkins' tender cry; Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath; With all his murmurs Yarrow trill'd Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death; The song of triumph by. Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, WILLIAM HAMILTON: Song. Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee; Flows Yarrow sweet? as sweet flows Tweed, Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's As green as grass, its gowan as yellow, name; As sweet smells on its braes the birk, Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thane. The apple frae the rock as mellow. MILTON: Vacation Exercised. WILLIAM HAMILTON: (See Aiez'igAtey's Life of Milton, and Notes and The Braes of Yarrow. Queries, I87I, i. I37.) 45 6 RIVE'RS..Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen For her, through Egypt's fruitful clime reBy slow Meander's margent green, nown'd, And in the violet-embroider'd vale. Let weeping Nilus hear the tilnibrel sound. MILTON. POPE. Flies tow'rd the springs Of Ganges or HIlydaspes. IMILTON. Rivers diverted from their native course, And bound with chains of artificial force, Nymphs and shepherds dance no more From large cascades in pleasing tumult roll'd, By sandy Ladon's lilied banks. Or rose through figured stone or breathing gold. MILTON. PRIOR. Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer roved, Those enormous terrors of the Nile. And bright were its flowery banks to his eye; PRIOR. But far, very far, were the friends that he loved, An,e,ated on its flowery banks with a Fair Thames she haunts, and every neighb'ring And he gazed on its flowery banks with a sigh grove, MOORE. Sacred to soft recess and gentle love. PRIoR. When from his dint the foe still backward shrunk, But her own king she likens to his Thames; Wading within the Ouse, he dealt his blows, Serene yet strong, majestic yet sedate, And sent them rolling to the tiding Humber. Swift without violence, without terror great. JOHN PHILIPS. PRIOR. The music of that murm'ring spring Their virtue, like their Tiber's flood, Is not so mournful as the strains you sing; Rolling its course, design'dc their country's good; Nor rivers winding through the vales below But oft the torrent's too impetuous speed So sweetly warble or so smoothly flow. From the low earth tore some polluted weed. POPE. PRIOR. Now scantier limits the proud arch confine, Down, down, a thousand fathoms deep, And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile and,, R~hine. Among the sounding seas I go; A small Euphrates through the piece is roll'd, Play round the foot of every steep Whose cliffs above the ocean grow. And little eagles wave their wings in gold. Whose cliffs above the ocean grow. POPE. There, within their secret caves, Where stray the muses-in what lawn or grove? I hear the mighty rivers roar, In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides, And guide their streams through Neptune's Or else where Cam his winding vales divides? waves, POPE. To bless the green earth's inmost shore. MRS. RADCLIFFE: Ti/e Sea iA/tipi. From his oozy bed Old father Thames advanced his reverend head. Whatever near Eurota's happy stream, POPE. With laurels crown'd, had been Apollo's theme. Not fabled Po more swells the poet's lays, ROSCOMMON. While through the sky his shining current strays. POPE. The Tiber, whose licentious waves So often overflow'd the neighboring fields, Though Tiber's streams streams immortal Rome behold, Now runs a smooth and inoffensive course. Though foaming Hermus swells with tides of ROSCOMMON. gold, From heav'n itself though seven-fold Nilus Let the wide world his praises sing, flows, Where Tagus and Euphrates spring; And harvests on a hundred realms bestows, And fiom the Danube's frosty banks to those These now no more shall be the muse's themes, Where from an unknown head great Nilus Lost in my fame, as in the sea their streams. flows. POPE. RoscoMMON. RJVERS. 45 7 Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide It fortuned then a solemn feast was there The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; To all the sea-gods and their fruitful seed, No longer steel-clad warriors rids In honour of the spousals which then were Along thy wild and willow'd shore. Betwixt the Medway and the Thames agreed. SCOTT: Lay of the Last Zinstrel. SPENSER: Pcddinzg of the Medzay and the Thames. As if thy waves, since time was born, Since first they roll'd upon the Tweed, And after him the famous rivers came Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Which do the earth enrich and beautify; Nor startled at the bugle-horn. The fertile Nile, which creatures new doth SCOTT: Lay of the Last I/instre. frame; Long Rhodanus, whose course springs from the You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the winding sky; thyuroks, b Fair Ister, flowing from the mountains high; With your sedged crowns, and ever-harnmless Divine Scamander, purpled yet with blood loolks, Of Greeks and Trojans, which therein did die; Leave your crisp channels, and on this green Pactolus, glistering with his golden flood; land Answerland your summons; does command. And Tigris fierce, whose streams of none may Answer your summons; Juno does command. e withstood. SHAKSPEARE. Great Ganges, and immortal Euphrates; Severn, aftrighted with their bloody looks, Deep Indus, and Meander intricate; Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, Slow Peneus, and tempestuous Pharices; And hid his crisp'd head in the hollow bank. Swift Rhine, and Alpheus still immaculate; SHAKSPEARE. Ooraxes, feared for great Cyrus' fate; Tybris, renowned for the Roman's fame; The river Thames that by our door doth pass, Tybris, renowned for the Roman's fame; Rich Oranochy, though but known late; His first beginning is but small and shallow; Rich Oranochy, though ut known late And that rich river which doth bear his name Yet, keeping on his course, grows to a sea., SHpAiSPEARE. Of warlike Amazons, which do possess the same. SHAKSPEARE.S SPENSER: Trent shall not wind with such a deep indent, Weddingi of the Mfedwazy anzd the Thames. To rob me of so rich a bottom here. SHAKSPEARE. Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames, Whose rushy bank the which his river hems. Draw them to Tiber's bank, and weep your tears SPENSER. Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. An effeminate scoundrel multitude! SHAKSPEARE. IWhose utmost daring is to cross the Nile In painted boats, to fright the crocodile. Thrice from the banks of Wye TATE. And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent The river pours along Him bootless home, and weather-lbeaten back. The river pours along SHAKSPEARE. Resistless; roaring dreadful down it comes, Then o'er the sanded valley floating spreads. On Leven's banks, while fiee to rove, THOMSON. And tune the iural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain ve turn That ever trod th' Arcadian plain. To where the silver Thames first rurca grows. Pure stream, in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave; Fired with the views this glitt'ring scene disNo torrents stain thy limpid source, plays No rocks impede thy dimpling course, And smit with passion for my country's praise, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, My artless reed attempts this lofty theme, With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread. Where sacred Isis rolls her ancient stleam. SMOLLETT: Ode to Leven Water. TICKIELL. 45 8 RIVERS. -R OSES. The gallants dancing by the river side, Mid-May's eldest child, They bathe in summer, and in winter slide. The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, WALLER. The murmumurous haunt of flies on summer eves. KEATS: Ode to a Nigtinzgoale. Of famous cities we the founders know; But rivers, old as seas to which they go, Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. Are nature's bounty:'tis of more renown MILTON. To make a river than to build a town. So thick the roses blushing round WALLER. About her glow'd; oft stooping to support Each flow'r of slender stalk. When, with sounds of smother'd thunder, Each flow'r of slender stalk. MILTON. On some night of rain, Lake and river break asunder In yonder spring of roses, intermix'd Winter's weaken'd chain, With myrtle, find what to redress till noon. Down the wild March flood shall bear them MILTON. To the sawmill's wheel, Our bane and physic the same earth bestows, Or where steam, the slave, shall tear them And near the noisome nettle blooms the rose. With his teeth of steel. OVID. WHITTIER: The Lumbermen. Or, quick effluvia darting through the brain, Die of a rose in aromatic pain. POPE. ROSES. For her the unfading rose of Eden blooms, But here the roses blush so rare, And wings of seraph shed divine perfumes. Here the mornings smile so fair, POPE. As if neither cloud nor wind Thy grave shall with fresh flowers be drest, But would be courteous, would be kind. And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast; CRASHAW. There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow; WVhat beauties does Flora disclose! There the first roses of the year shall blow. How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed! POPE. Yet Mary's, still sweeter than those, Fresh roses bring Both nature and fancy exceed. strew my bed, till the impoveish'd spring No daisy, nor sweet blushing rose, Confess her want. PRIOR. Not all the gay flowers of the field, Not Tweed, gliding gently through those, Delightful praise!-like summer rose, Such beauty and pleasure does yield. That brighter in the dew-drop glows, ROBERT CRAWFORD: Tzoeedside. The bashful maiden's cheek appear'd,For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last, SIR NV. SCOTT: f_,Cry of the Lake. And raisins keep their luscious native taste. DRYDEN. Say that she frowns; I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, SIARSPEARE. Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red; The driving colours, never at a stay, Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in the bud, Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. Or angels, veil'd in clouds; are roses blown, Delightful change! thus Indian iv'ry shows, Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture Which with the bord'ring paint of purple shown. SHAKSPEARE. glows,Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose. O'ercanopied with luscious woodbine, DRYDEN. With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine. SHAKSPEARE. The sacred ground Shall weeds and pois'nous plants refuse to bear; The seasons alter;. hoary-headed frosts Each common bush shall Syrian roses wear. Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. R OSES. -SABBA TH. 459 He upon whose side The coming spring would first appear, The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree, And all this place with roses strow, Shall yield the other in the right opinion. If busy feet would let them grow. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. With such a care Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, As roses from their stalks we tear, With whose sweet smell the air shall be per- When we would still preserve them new fumed. Alnd fresh as on the bush they grew. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. The prince, by chance, did on a lady light The flow'r's divine where'er it grows; That was right fair, and fresh as morning rose. Neglect the prickles, and assume the rose. SPENSER. WATTS. SABBATH. Th' indorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a Friend, and with his blood; Never ally sabbath of release The couch of time, care's balm and bay: Could free his travels and afflictions deep.ch of time, care's balm and bay: DANIEL. The week were dark but for thy light: Thy torch doth show the way. Nor can his blessed soul look down from heav'n, GEORGE HERBERT: S1zmnday. Or break th' eternal sabbath of his rest, To see her miseries on earth. DRYDEN. On which heaven's palace arched lies: The other days fill up the space Here ev'ry day was sabbath: only free And hollow room with vanities. From hours of pray'r for hours of charity, They are the fruitful beds and borders Such as the Jews from servile toil released, In God's rich garden; that is base Where works of mercy were a part of rest: Which parts their ranks and orders. Such as blest angels exercise above, Varied with sacred hymns and acts of love: The Sundays of man's life, Such sabbaths as the one she now enjoys; Threaded together on Time's string, Ev'n that perpetual one, which she employs Make bracelets to adorn the wife For such vicissitudes in heav'n there are- Of the eternal glorious King. In praise alternate and alternate pray'r. On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope; DRYDEN. 1'Blessings are plentiful and rife,More plentiful than hope. How still the morning of the hallow'd day! GEORGE HERBERT: Sunzday. Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush'd The ploughboy's whistle and the milkmaid's With silent awe I hail the sacred morn, That scarcely wakes while all the fields are song. The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath still; Of tedded grass, mingled with fading flowers, A soothing calm on every breeze is bone, A graver murmur echoes from the hill, That yestermorn bloom'd waving in the breeze: The faintest sounds attract the ear,-the hum And softer sings the linnet from the thorn, Of early bee, the triclkling of the cd-ew, The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. The distant bleating, midway up the hill. Hail, light serene! hail, sacred Sabbath morn! GRAHAME: Sabbatih. The sky a placid yellow lustre throws; The gales that lately sigh'd along the grove O day most calm, most bright, Have hush'd their drowsy wings in dead The fruit of this, the next world's bud, repose; 460 SA DNESS. -SANCTITY. -SA TIRE. The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon, So soft the day when the first morn arose! A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon, JOHN LEYDEN: Sabbathz Mot'r. Condemn'd to drudge, the meanest of the mean, And furbish falsehoods for a magazine, Peaceful sleep out the sabbath of the tomb, And furbish falsehoods for a magazine, BYRON:.Eg, f. Bat ds alzd Scot..eviewve?. And wake to raptures in a life to come. POPE. So dost thou aim thy darts, which ev'n when They kill the poisons do but wake the men. CARTWRIGHT. SAD N ESS. When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing, This form before Alcyone present, To make he cefrtain of the sad event. Short is her life, and impotent her sting; To make her certain of the sad event. DRYDEN. But when to truth allied, the wound she gives Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives. Dim sadness did not spare CHURCHILL. That time celestial visages; yet, mix'd With pity, violated not their bliss. The man whose hardy spirit shall engage MILTON. To lash the vices of a guilty age, At his first setting forward ought to know Too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood. That every rogue he meets must be his foe; That the rude breath of satire will provoke All my engagements I will construe to thee, Many who feel and more who fear the stroke. All the charactery of my sad brows. CI-URCHILL. SHAKSPEARE. Unless a love of virtue light theflame, Right faithful true he was in deed and word, Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame: But of his cheer did seem too solemn sad: He hides behind a magisterial air Nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. His own offences, and strips others' bare. SPENSER. COWPER. Poets alone found the delightful way SANCTITY. Mysterious morals gently to convey God attributes to pla-ce In charming numbers; so that as men grew God attributes to place b r ug No sanctity, if none be thither brought Pleased with their poems, they grew cwiser too. By men who there frequent. Satire has always shone among the rest, MILTON. And is the boldest way, if not the best, To tell men freely of their foulest faults, How deep you were within the books of heav'nn To laugh at their vain deeds and vainer thoughts. To us, th' imagined voice of heav'n itself; The very opener and intelligencer DRYDEN. Between the grace and sanctities of heav'n With whate'er gall thou sett'st thyself to write, And our dull workings. Thy inoffensive satires never bite. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Frontless and satire-proof he scours the streets, SATIRE. And d runs an Indian muck at all he meets. D RYDEN. Prepare for rhyme,-I'll publish, right or wrong: Fools are my theme, let satire be my song. The labouring bee, when his sharp sting is gone, BYRON: Engr. BalZds anld Scot. Reviezoers. Forgets his golden work, and turns a drone; Such is a satire when you take away When knaves and fools combined o'er all The rage in which his noble vigour lay. p'evail, DRYDEN. When justice halts, and right begins to fail, E'en then the boldest start from public sneers, When Lucilius brandishes his pen, Afraid of shame-unknown to others fears, And flashes in the face of guilty men, More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe, A cold sweat stands in drops on ev'ry part, And shrink from ridicule, though not from law. And rage succeeds to tears, revenge to smart. BYRON: EnX. Bards anld Scot. Reviewers. DRYDEN. SA _TIRE. 46 X What human kind desires, and what they shun, Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay; Rage, passions, pleasures, impotence of will, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay: Shall this satirical collection fill. Blest satirist! who touch'd the mean so true DRYDEN. As show'd vice had his hate and pity too. POPE. He was not spiteful, though he wrote a satire; For still there goes some meaning to ill-nature. There are to whom my satire seems too bold; DRYDEN. Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough, And something said of Chartres much too rough. Their satire's praise; POPE. So nauseously and so unlike they paint. GARTH. Rough satires, sly remarks, ill-natured speeches, Are always aim'd at poets that wear breeches. I first adventure: follow me who list, PRIOR. And be the second Enalish satirist. BISHOP HALL. For pointed satire I would Buckhurst choose, The best good man with the worst-natured Rare poems and rare friends; muse. Yet satires, since the most of mankind be ROCHESTER. Their unavoided subject, fewest see. You must not think that a satiric style Allows of scandalous and brutish words; Satire should, like a polish'd razor keen, The better sort abhor scurrility. Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.' ROSCOMMON. LADY M. W. MONTAGU. How cheerfully the hawkers cry Of all the ways that wisest men could find A satire, and the people buy! To mend the age, and mortify mankind, While my hard-labour'd poem pines Satire well writ has most successful proved, Unsold upon the printer's lines. And cures because the remedy is loved. LORD MULGRAVE. Should stupid libels grieve your mind, You soon a remedy may find; Pointed satire runs him through and through. Lie down obscure, like other folks, OLDHIAM. Below the lash of snarlers' jokes. Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet. To run a muck, and tilt at all I meet. On me when dunces are satiric POPE. I take it for a panegyric. SWIFT. Satire is no more: I feel it die: No gazetteer more innocent than I. Lampoons, like squibs, may make a present POPE. I blaze; But time and thunder pay respect to bays. But touch me, and no minister so sore: WALLER. Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time Instructive satire! true to virtue's cause! Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Thou shining supplem Thou shining supplement of public laws! Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, YOUNG. And the sad burthen of some merry song. POPE. My verse is satire: Dorset, lend your ear, And patronize a muse you cannot fear. Oh! sacred weapon, left for truth's defence, UNG. Sole dread of folly, vice, and insolence, To all but heaven-directed hands denied; If satire charms, strike faults, but spare the man; The muse may give thee, but the gods must'Tis dull to be as witty as you can. guide. Satire recoils whenever charged too high; POPE. Round your own fame the fatal splinters fly. As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart, Leave dang'rous truths to unsuccessful satire. Good breeding sends the satire to the heart. POPE. YOUNG. 462 SCADAL. -SCEPTICISI. -SCIENCE. -SCOL DING. SCANDAL. As his doubts decline, Skil'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints He dreads just vengeance, and he starts at sin. With all the high mendacity of hints, DRYDEN. While mingling truth with falsehood, sneers with smiles, A thread of candour with a web of wiles. BYRON. Him also for my censor I disdain, Who thinks all science, as all virtue, vain; In fact, there's nothing makes me so much grieve W As thtboiabeitl-tttWho counts geometry and number s toys, As that abominable tittle-tattle And with his foot the sacred dust destroys. Which is the cud eschew'd by human cattle. DRYDEN. BYRON. Assail'd by scandal and the tongue of strife, Far eastward cast thine eye, from whence the His only answer was a blameless life; sun, And he that forged, and he that threw the dart, And orient science, at a birth begun. Had each a brother's interest in his heart. POPE: Dznciad. COWPER. My known virtue is from scandal free, SCOLDING. And leaves no shadow for your calumny. In council she gives license to her tongue, DRYDEN. Loquacious, brawling, ever in the wrong. And there's a lust in man no charm can tame DRYDEN. Of loudly publishing our neighbor's shame: The one as famous for a scolding tongue On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, As th' other is for beauteous modesty. While virtuous actions are but born and die. SHAKSPEARE. JUVENAL. For gods, we are by Homer told, A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes, For gods, we are by Homer told, Can in celestial language scold. SWIFT. At every word a reputation dies. POPE: Rape of the Lock. No particular scandal once can touch, SCRIPTURES. But it confounds the breather. SHAKSPEARE. Before me lay the sacred text: The help, the guide, the balm of souls perplex'd. Now enters overweening pride, ARBUTINOT. And scandal ever gaping wide. SWIFT. Thus man by his own strength to heav'n would Then, Chloe, still go on to prate soar, Of thirty-six and thirty-eight; And would not be obliged to God for more: Pursue your trade of scandal-picking, Vain, wretched creature! how art thou misled, Your hints that Stella is no chicken; To think thy wit these godlike notions bred! Your innuendoes when you tell us These truths are not the product of thy mind, That Stella loves to talk with fellows. But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind: SWIFT. Reveal'd religion first inform'd thy sight, The mimic ape began his chatter, And Reason saw not till Faith sprung the light. How evil tongues his life bespatter. DRYDEN: Rehlg'io Laici. SWIFT. Or whether more abstractedly we look, Or on the writers, or the written Book, SCEPTICISM. Whence but from Heav'n could men unskill'dl But dreadful is their doom whom doubt has in arts, driven In several ages born, in several parts, To censure Fate, and pious Hope forego: Weave such agreeing truths? or how, or why, Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven, Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie? Perfection, beauty, life, they never know, Unask'd their pains, ungrateful their advice, But frown on all that pass, a monument of wo. Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price! BEATTIE: AMinstrel. DRYDEN: Religzio Laici. SCRIP TTRES. -S CULP TUJRE. 463 The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose: Your gift shall two large goblets be An evil soul producing holy witness Of silver, wrought with curious imagery, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek. And high emboss'd. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Thus I clothe my naked villany There too, in living sculpture, might be seen WVith old odd ends, stolen forth of holy writ, The mad affection of the Cretan queen. And seem a saint. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Thy shape's in ev'ry part So clean, as might instruct the sculptor's art. SCULPTURE. DRYDEN. This wonder of the sculptor's hand The lids are ivy, grapes in cluster lurk Produced, his art was at a stand. Beneath the carving of the curious work. ADDISON. DRYDEN. Here circling colonnades the ground inclose, The nodding statue clash'd his arms, And here the marble statues breathe in rows. And with a sullen sound, and feeble cry, ADDISON. ADDISON. Half sunk, and half pronounced the word of In solemn silence stand Victory! Stern tyrants, whom their cruelties renown, DRYDEN. Anld emperors iln Parian marhle frown. When in those oratories might you see ADDISON. Rich carvings, portraitures, and imagery, Where, Where ev'ry figure to the life express'd Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath The godhead's pow'r. seized? DRYDEN. In him alone. Can nature show so fair? Let others better mould the running mass BYRON: Chziladee Ha-old. Of metals, and inform the breathing brass, An hard and unrelenting she And soften into flesh a marble face. As the new-crusted Niobe, DRYDEN. Or, what cloth more of statue carry, Where statues breathed, the works of Phidias' A nun of the Platonic quarry. hands, JOHN CLEAVELAND. A wooden pump or lonely watch-house stands. The meanest sculptor in th' iEmilian square GAY. Call imitate in brass the nails and hair; Can imitate in brass the nails and hair; Thy statue, Venus, though by Phidias' hands Expert in trifles, and a cunning fool, Design'd immortal, yet no longer stands; Able t' express the parts, but not dispose the The magic of thy shining zone is past, whole. DRYDEN. But Salisbury's garter shall forever last. GRANVILLJE. Yet fearing idleness, the nurse of ill, Yet. fearg i s, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture In sculpture exercised his happy skill, W eck'd And carved in ivory such a maid, so fair, As nature could not with his art compare, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Were she to work. GRAY: Eery. DRYDEN. Nor did there want My share in pale Pyrene I resign, Cornice or frieze with bossy sculptures graven. And claim no part in all the mighty nine: MILTON. Statues with winding ivy crown'd belong Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes To nobler poets, for a nobler song. would raise DRYDEN. DRYN. Historic marbles to record his praise; Between the statues obelisks were placed, His praise eternal on the faithful stone And the learn'd walls with hieroglyphics graced. Had with transmissive honour graced his son. DRYDEN. POPE. 464 SCULP TURE. —SEAS ONS. -SE CRE CE Then sculpture and her sister arts revive, He like Amphion makes those quarries leap Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live. Into fair figures from a confused heap. POPE. WALLER. Heroes in animated marble frown,oo And legislators seem to think in stone. POPE. SEASONS. Gold, silver, ivory vases sculptured high, Thus in a circle runs the peasant's pain, There are who have not. And the year rolls within itself again. POPE. DRYDEN. The polish'd pillar different sculptures grace, A work outlasting monumental brass. For active sports, for pleasing rest, POPE. This is the time to be possess'd; Beneath a sculptured arch he sits enthronel, The best is but in season best. DRYDEN. The peers encircling form an awful round. The season prime for sweetest scents and airs. POPE. MILTON. What though no weeping loves thy ashes grace, Nor polish'cl marble emulate thy face. He's noble, wise, judicious, and best knows POPE. The fits o' the season. Fancies and notions he pursues SHAKSPEARE. Which ne'er had being but in thought: The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, Each, like the Grecian artist, wooes TWhen neither is attended; and, I think, The image he himself has wrought. PRaOR. The nightingale, if she should sing by day, the column igh erect, When ev'ry goose is cackling, would be thought Let Europe, saved, the column high erect, No better a musician than the wren; Than Trajan's higher, or than Antonine's, Where sembling art may carve the fair effect To their right praise and true perfection! And full achievement of thy great designs. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace Of finer form or lovelier face. SIR W. SCOTT: Lady of zlie Lake. In that corroding secrecy, which gnaws They spake not a word, The heart to show the effect, but not the cause. But, like dumb statues, or unbreathing stones, BYRON: Lna a. Stared each on other, and look'd deadly pale. No muse hath been so bold, SHAKSPEARE. Or of the latter or the old, Of marble stone was cut Those elvish secrets to unfold An altar carved with cunning imagery. Which lie from others' reading. SPENSER. DRAYTON. So stands the statue that enchants the world, I loved thee, as too well thou knew'st, So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, The mingled beauties of exulting Greece. Not out of levity, but overpower'd THOMSON': SuZm/Zmer. By thy request, who could deny thee nothing. Let the faint copier on old Tiber's shore, MILTON. Nor mean the task, each breathing bust explore; To have reveal'd Line after line with painful patience trace, Secrets of man, the secrets of a friend, This Roman granderue, that Athenian grace. This Roman grandeur, that Atenian grace. Contempt and scorn of all, to be excluded All friendship, and avoided as a blab. To famed Apelles, when young Amnon brought MILTON. The darling idol of his captive heart, And the pleased nymph with kind attention sat, Each in his breast the secret sorrow kept, To have her charms recorded by his art. And thought it safe to laugh, though Caesar wept. WALLER. ROWE. SELF-L 0 VE. -SENSE. 465 Constant you are, Who can all sense of others' ill escape But yet a woman; and for secrecy, Is but a brute at best in human shape. No lady closer. TATE. SHAKSPEARE. Thou art sworn SENSE. As deeply to affect what we intend, As closely to conceal what we impart. The watchful sentinels at ev'ry gate, SHAKSPEARE. At ev'ry passage to the senses wait; Utterers of secrets he from thence debarr'd, Still travel to and fro the nervous way, Babblers of folly, and blazers of crime: And their impressions to the brain convey; His larum-bell might loud and wide be heard, Where their report the vital envoys make, When cause required, but never out of time; And with new orders are commanded back. Early and late it rung, at evening and at prime. SIR R. BLACKMORE. SPENSER. If we had naught but sense, each living wight, Which we call brute, would be more sharp than we. SELF-LOVE. than SIR J. DAVIES. Man's that savage beast, whose mind, Man's tht sagea, w mind, If we had naught but sense, then only they From reason to self-love declined, Should have sound minds which have their Delights to prey upon his kind. SIR J. DENHAM. But wisdom grows when senses do decay, Myself from flattering self-conceit defend, And folly most in quickest sense is found. Nor what thou dost not know, to know pretend. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DENHAM. Then is the soul a nature which contains O impudent! regardful of thy own, The pow'r of sense within a greater pow'r, Whose thoughts are centred on thyself alone. Which doth employ and use the sense's pains, DRYDEN. But sits and rules within her private bow'r. SIR J. DAVIES. Ofttimes nothing profits more Than self-esteem,grounded on just and right. This pow'r is sense, which from abroad doth. MILTON. bring The colour, taste, and touch, and scent, and! Some, valuing those of their own side or mind, sound Still make themselves the measure of mankind: quantity and shape of ev The quantity and shape of ev'rything Fondly we think we honour merit then Within earth's centre or heav'n's circle found:: When we but praise ourselves in other men. And though things sensible be numberless, POPE. But only five the sense's organs be; Self-love and reason to one end aspire, And in those five all things their forms express Pain their aversion, pleasure their desire. Which we can touch, taste, feel, or hear,, POPE. or see. SIR J. DAVIES. True self-love and social are the same. POPE. Sense must sure thy safest plunder be, By the blast of self-opinion moved, Since no reprisals can be made on thee. DORSET. We wish to charm, and seek to be beloved. PRIOR. I have sense, to serve my turn, in store, In his own grace he doth exalt himself And he's a rascal who pretends to more. More than in your advancement. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. Be cool, my friend, and hear my muse dispense Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin Some sovereign comforts drawn from common As self-neglecting. sense. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. 30 466 SE.NSE.- SENSIB IITY. Such is the mighty swiftness of your mind, The tempest in my mind That, like the earth's, it leaves the sense behind! Doth from my senses take all feeling else, DRYDEN. Save what beats there. SHAKSPEARE. But though we fetch from Italy and France Our fopperies of tune and modes of dance, Scholars when good sense describing Our sturdy Britons scorn to borrow sense. Call it tasting and imbibing. GRANVILLE. SWIFT. She quits the narrow path of sense Plain sense, which pleased your sires an age ago, She quits the narrow path of sense Is lost, without the garniture of show. For a dear ramble through impertnence. GRANVILLE. SWIFT. Both contain'Tis hard, where dulness overrules, Within them ev'ry lower faculty To keep good sense in crowds of fools. Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, SWIFT. taste. MILTON. 0 lavish land! for sound at such expense! But, then, she saves it in her bills for sense. Begin with sense, of ev'ry art the soul, YOUNG. Parts answering parts shall slide into a whole; Spontaneous beauties all around advance, Who want, while through blank life they dream Start e'en from difficulty, strike from chance; along, Nature shall join you, time shall make it grow. Sense to be right, and passion to be wrong. POPE. ~lYOUNG. Something there is more needful than expense, Of plain sound sense life's current coin is made; And something previous e'en to taste-'tis sense: With that we drive the most substantial trade. Good sense, which only is the gift of heaven, YOUNG. And, though no science, fairly worth the seven. A light within yourself you must perceive: A man shall make his fortune in a trice, Jones and Le Notre have it not to give. If bless'd with pliant though but slender sense, POPE. Feign'd modesty, and real impudence. YOUNG. Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks, It still looks home, and short excursions makes; But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks. POiPE. SENSIBILITY. Their weak heads, like towns unfortified, Dearly bought the hidden treasure'Twixt sense and nonsense daily change their Finer feelings can bestow side. I Chords that vibriate sweetest pleasure POPE. Thrill the deepest notes of woe. BURNS. Soft were my numbers; who could take offence When smooth description held the place of Oh! life is a waste of wearisome hours, sense? POPE. Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; And the heart that is soonest awake to the Meet then the senior, far renown'd for sense, flowers With rev'rent awe, but decent confidence. Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns. POPE. MOORE. As the lightest sketch, if justly traced, Yet what is wit, and what the poet's art? Is by ill colouring but the more disgraced, Ca genius shield the vulnerable heart? So by false learning is good sense defaced. Ah, no! where bright imagination reigns, POPE. The fine-wrought spirit feels acuter pains; Each might his sev'ral province well command, Where glow exalted sense and taste refined, Would all but stoop to what they understand. There keener anguish rankles in the mind. POPE. HANNAH MORE. SHA E.-SHEEP. -SEPHERD. 46 7 The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Not all the fleecy wealth Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; That doth enrich these downs is worth a And feeling hearts-touch them but lightly- thought pour To this my errand. A thousand melodies unheard before MILTON. ROGERS: Hziman Life. The firstlings of the flock are doom'd to die. POPE. SHAME. Let her glad valleys smile with wavy corn; Let fleecy flocks her rising hills adorn. The less had been our shame, PRIOR. The less his counsell'd crime which brands the Grecian name. Time drives the flocks from field to fold, DRYDEN: Fables. When rivers rage and rocks grow cold; Is it enough And Philomlel becometh dumb, That masking habits, and a borrow'd name, And all complain of cares to come. RALEIGH. Contrive to hide my plenitude of shame? PRIOR. As when two rams, stirr'd with ambitious pride, Silly beggars, ~ Fight for the rule of the rich-fleeced flock, Their horned fionts so fierce on either side Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame, That many have, and others must, sit there. Do meet, that with the terror of the shock SHAXKSPEARE. Astonish'd both stand senseless as a block. SPENSER. Some seek to salve their blotted name With others' blot, till all do taste of shame. SIR P. SIDNEY. SHEPHERD. Giving an account of the annual increase Both of their lambs and of their woolly fleece. SHEEP. CHAUCER. What stores my dairies and my folds contain! How does my love pass the long day? A thousand lambs that wander on the plain. Does Mary not tend a few sheep? DRYDEN. Do they never carelessly stray The running streams are deep: While happily she lies asleep? See, they have caught the father of the flock, ROBERT CRAWFORD: Tzoeedside. Who dries his fleece upon the neighbouring The shepherd bears rock. DRYDEN. His house and household goods, his trade of Rwar, His bow and quiver, and his trusty cur. No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb The steepy cliffs, or crop the flow'ry thyme. DRYDEN. I who before with shepherds in the groves Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves, And this you see I scarcely drag along, Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves, Manured the glebe, and stock'd the fruitful Who yearning on the rocks has left her young, plain. The hope and promise of my failing fold. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook, Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures Fiv' herds, fivblatigfock, hispastur And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook; fill'd. nl'.DRrYDEN. No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wove: For ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love. From winter Ikeep, Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do? Well fodder'd in the stalls, thy tender sheep. Why left I Amynta? Why broke I my vow? DRYDEN. Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook reThe tender firstlings of my woolly breed store, Shall on his holy altar often bleed. And I'll wander from love and Amynta no more. DRYDEN. SIR GILBERT ELLIOT: Amynta. 468 SHEPHERD.- SHEPS. Thrice, oh, thrice happy, shepherd's life and I am shepherd to another man, state! - And do not shear the fleeces that I graze. When courts are happiness' unhappy pawns! SHAKSPEARE. His cottage low and safely humble gate As shepherd's cur that in dark evening's shade Shuts out proud Fortune with her scorns and Hath tracked forth some savage beastis treade. fawns: SPENSER. No feared treason breaks his quiet sleep; As where a shepherd of the Hebrid Isles, Singing all day, his flocks he learns to keep; Placed far amid the melancholy main Himself as innocent as are his simple sheep. (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles, GILES FLETC\HER: Pzriple IlStnZd. Or that aerial beings sometimes deign His flocks are folded; he comes home at night To stand embodied to our senses plain), As merry as a king in his delight, Sees on the naked hill, or valley low, And merrier too: The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, For kings bethink them what the state require, A vast assembly moving to and fro, Where shepherds, careless, carol by the fire: Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous Ah then, ah then, show. If country loves such sweet desires gain, THOMSON: Castle of I1zdolence. What lady would not love a shepherd swain? ROBERT GREENE. SHIPS. Ah, the poor shepherd's mournful fate, Full nineteen sailors did the ship convey; When doom'd to love and doom'd to languish, A shoal of nineteen dolphins round her play. To bear the scornful fair one's hate, ADDISON. Nor dare disclose his anguish. When the winds in southern quarters rise, WILLIAM HI-IAMILTON': Song. Ships, from their anchors torn, become theii A shepherd next, sport, More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock, And sudden tempests rage within the port. Choicest and best. ADDISON. MILTON. Hither the seas at stated times resort, The good shepherd tends his fleecy care, And shove the loaden vessels into port; Seeks fieshest pasture, and the purest air; Then with a gentle ebb retire again, Explores the lost, the wand'ring sheep directs. And render back their cargo to the main. POPE. ADDISON. The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest, How gloriously her gallant course she goes! On the fat flock and rural dainties feast. Her white wings flying-never firom her foes; POPE. She walks the water like a thing of life, Ah! what avails it me the flocks to keep, And seems to dare the elements to strife. Who lost my heart, while I preserved my sheep? Who would not brave the battle - fire - the POPE. wreckHad he been born some simple shepherd's heir, To move the monarch of her peopled deckl? The lowing herd or fleecy sheep his care. BYRON: Corsair. PRIOR. How much unlike Hector, who returu'd The shepherd's homely curds, Clad in Achilles' spoils; when he among His cold thin drink out of his leathern bottle, A thousand ships, like Jove, his lightning flung. His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, SIR J. DENHAM. All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, A ship which hath struck sail doth run Is far beyond a prince's delicates, By force of that force which before it won. His viands sparkling in a golden cup, DONNE. His body couched in a curious bed, Some log, perhaps, upon the waters swam, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him. An useless drift, which, rudely cut within, SHAKSPEARE. And hollow'd, first a floating trough became, So many days ere I shall shear the fleece. And'cross some riv'let passage did begin. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. SHIPZ- S. 46 9 By viewing nature, nature's handmaid, art, Or come your shipping in our ports to lay, Makes mighty things from small beginnings Spent and disabled in so long a way? grow: DRYDEN. Thus fish'es first to shipping did impart, vast the navy now at anchor rides Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow. That underneath it the press'c waters fail And with his weight it shoulders off the tides. Trees rudely hollow'd did the waves sustain, DRYDEN. Ere sliips in triumph plow'd the wat'ry plain. With roomy decks, her guns of mighty strength, DRYDEN. Deep in her draught, and warlike in her length. Rude as their ships was navigation then, DRYDEN. No useful compass or meridian known: Now on their coasts our conquering navy rides, Coasting, they kept the land within their ken, Waylays their merchants, and their land besets, And knew no north but when the pole-star DRYDEN. shone. DRYDEN. Next of his men and ships he makes review, He who first the passage tried Draws out the best and ablest of the crew. In harden'd oak his heart did hide; DRYDEN. Orl his at least in hollow wood, Sails were spread to ev'ry wind that blew, Who tempted first the briny flood. Raw were the sailors, and the depths were new. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. In shipping such as this, the Irish kern On high-raised decks the haughty Belgians ride, And untaught Indian on the stream did glide, Beneath whose shade our humble frigates go. Ere sharp-keel'd boats to stem the flood did DRYDEN. learn, Or fin-like oars did spread from side to side. As is the built, so different is the fight; DRYDEN. Their mountain shot is on our sails design'd; Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light, A thousand ships were mann'd to sail the sea. And through the yielding planks a passage DRYDEN. find. DRYDEN. He seized the helm; his fellows cheer'd, Turn'd short upon the shelfs, and madly steer'd. Some pick out bullets from the vessel's sides, DRYDEN. Some drive old oakum through each seam and rift. Mighty in her ships stood Carthage long, DRYDEN. And swept the riches of the world from far; Ent'ring with the tide Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more He dropp'd his anchors, and his oars he plied, strong. strYong. D R YDFurl'd every sail, and, drawing down the mast, His vessel moor'd, and made his halsers fast. The lashing billows made a long report, DRYDEN. And beat her sides. - DRYDEN. Through it the joyful steersman clears his way, And comes to anchor in his inmost bay. The galley borne from view by rising gales, DRYDEN. She follow'd with her sight and flying sails. The pow'r appeased with winds sufficed the sail; DRYrDEN. The bellying canvas strutted with the gale. Permit our ships a shelter on your shores, DRYDEN. Refitted from your woods with planks and oars. To nearest ports their shatter'd ships repair, DRYDEN. Where by our dreadful cannon they lay awed. His batter'd rigging their whole war receives; DRYDEN. All bare, like some old oak with tempests beat, Each several ship a victory did gain, He stands, and sees below his scatter'd leaves. As Rupert or as Albemarle were there. D)RYDEN. DRYDEN. 470 SHIPS. Slowly he sails, and scarcely stems the tides; That glorious day which two such navies saw, The pressing water pours within her sides. As each, unmatch'd, might to the world give DRYDEN. law; Neptune, yet doubtful whom he should obey, Batter'd by his lee they lay; Held to them both the trident of the sea. The passing winds through their torn canvasRYDEN. play, And flagging sails on heartless sailors fall. And now approach'd their fleet fiom India, DRYDEN. fraught With all the riches of the rising sun, A side breeze from westward waits their sails to And precious sand firom southern climates fill, brought. And rests in those high beds his downy wings. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. When ev'n the flying sails were seen no more, Nor with the rising storm would vainly strive, Forsaken of all sight she left the shore. But left the helm, and let the vessel drive. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The giddy ship, betwixt the winds and tides Waiting till willing winds their sails supplied, Forced back and forwards, in a circle rides, Within a trading town they long abide, Stunn'd with the diff'rent blows; then shoots Full fairly situate on a haven's side. amain, DRYDEN. Till counterbuffd she stops, and sleeps again. Then ease your weary Trojans will attend, DRYDEN. And the long labours of your voyage end. Like a fiery meteor sunk the sun, DRYDEN. The promise of a storm; the shifting gales Forsake by fits, and fill, the flagging sails. Nor is, indeed, a man less mad than these, DRYDEN, Who freights a ship to venture on the seas, WNith one frail interposing plank to save The Trojans mount their ships, borne on the From certain death, roll'd on by ev'ry wave. waves, DRYDEN. And the pitch'd vessels glide with easy force. Go now, go trust the wind's uncertain breath, DRYDEN. Removed four fingers from approaching death; With wind in poop the vessel ploughs the sea, Or seven at most, when thickest is the board. And measures back with speed her former way. DRYDEN. What dost thou make a-shipboard? To what Triumphant flames upon the water float, end? And outbound ships at home their voyages end. Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free, DRYDEN. Stark-staring mad, that thou should'st tempt the With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the sea? DRYDEN. ship, And bare exposed the bosom of the deep. The tumbler's gambols some delight afford; DAYDEN. No less the nimble caperer on the cord: But these are still insipid stuff to thee, Their navy swarms upon the coasts: they cry Coop'd in a ship, and toss'd upon the sea. To hoist their anchors; but the gods deny. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The narrow seas can scarce their navy bear, Part stay for passage, till a gust of wind Or crowded vessels can their soldiers hold. Ships o'er their forces in a shining sheet. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Whoe'er you are, not unbeloved by heaven, Straight to the ships zEneas took his way, Since on our friendly shore your ships are driven. Embark'd his men, and skimm'd along the sea. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. ~~~~~~~~~~DRYDENr. SHIPS. 4 7 I As a ship, which winds and waves assail, Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Now with the current drives, now with the gale, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale. She feels a double force, by turns obeys POPE. Th' imperious tempest and th' impetuous seas. They the tall mast above the vessel rear, DRYDEN. Or teach the flutt'ring sail to float in air. All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, POPE. The streamers waving.in the wind, So when the first bold vessel dared the seas, IVhen black-eyed Susan caImte aboard: High on the stern the Thracian raised his "Oh, where shall I my true love find? strain, Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, While Argo saw her kindred trees If my sweet William sails among the crew?" Descend from Pelion to the main. GAY: Black-Eyed Susan. POPE. Each petty hand As when a shipwright stands his workmen o'er, Can steer a ship becalm'd; but he that will Who ply the wimble some huge beam to bore; Govern, and carry her to her end, must know Urged on all hands, it nimbly spins about, His tides, his currents; how to shift his sails; The grain deep-piercing, till it scoops it out. Where her springs are, her leaks, and how to POPE. stop'em. stoBEN JONSON Or the strait course to rocky Chios plow, And anchor under Mimos' shaggy prow. Build me straight, O worthy Master POPE. Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, SThat shall laugh at all disaster, lyClose to the bay great Neptune's fane adjoins, That shall laugh at all disaster, Andwith wave and whirlwind wrest. And near a forum flank'd with marble shines, And with wave and whirlrind wrestle. Where the bold'youth, the num'rous fleets te LONGFELLOW: Building' of the SShit. store, A ship sail'd from New Haven, Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar. And the keen and frosty airs POPE. That fill'cl her sails at parting Under southern skies exalt their sails, WVere heavy with good men's prayers. Led by new stars, and borne by spicy gales. "0 Lord! if it be thy pleasure," POPE. Thus pray'd the old divine, Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the " To bury our friends in the ocean, tide Take them, for they are thine."t And feather'd people crowd my wealthy side. LONGFELLOW: Phanto;Mz S/ii. POPE. A fleet descried Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds Aloof from Crete before the northern gales. Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles POPE. Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Propitious gales Their spicy drugs. MILTON. Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails. POPE. Then, from the mountain heaving timber tall, Here sailing ships delight the wand'ring eyes; Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, There trees and intermingled temples rise. Smear'd round with pitch. POPE. MILTON. Before the whistling winds the vessels fly, What pilot so expert but need must wreck, Vith rapid swiftness cut the liquid way, Embark'd with such a steersmate at the helm? And reach Gerestus at the point of day. MILTON. POPE. As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought, Thither they-bent, and haul'd their ships to Nigh river's mouth, or foreland, where the wind land; Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail. The crooked keel divides the yellow sand. MILTON. POPE. 472 SHIPS. Six brave companions from each ship we lost: Eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, With sails outspread we fly the unequal strife, Are making hither with all due expedience. Sad for their loss, but joyful of our life. SHARSPEARE. POPE. Behold the threaden sails, Steer the bounding bark with steady toil Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind, When the storm thickens and the billows boil. Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd POPE. sea, Fell the timber of yon lofty grove, Breasting the lofty surge. And form a raft, and build the rising ship. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, There no vessel, with vermilion prore, Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore. Diminish'd to her cock; her cock a buoy, POPE. Almost too small for sight. SHAKSPEARE. On the seas prepared the vessel stands; On the seas prepared the vessel stands; She comes majestic with her swelling sails, Th' impatient mariner thy speed demands. POPE. The ga llant bark; along her watery way POPE. Homeward she drives before the favouring The friendly gods a springing gale enlarged; gales; The fleet swift tilting o'er the surges flew, Now flirting at their length the streamers play, Till Grecian cliffs appear'd. And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze. POPE. SOUTHEY. With stays and cordage last he rigg'd a ship, As when a ship that flies fair under sail, And, roll'd on levers, launch'd her in the deep. An hidden rock escaped unawares, POPE. That lay in wait her wreck for to bewail, As our high vessels pass their wat'ry way, The mariner, yet half amazed, stares Let all the naval world due homage pay; At perils past, and yet in doubt he dares With hasty rev'rence their top-honours lower, To joy at his fool-happy oversight. Confessing the asserted power. SPENSER. PRIOR. A. ship that through the ocean wide, Our pray'rs are heard, our master's fleet shall go By conduct of some star, doth make her way, As far as wind can bear, or waters flow. Whenas a storm hath dimm'd her trusty PRIOR. guide; Out of her course doth wander far astray. Dark'ning the sky, they hover o'er and shroud Out of her course doth wander far astray. SPENSER. The wanton sailors with a feather'd cloud. PRIOR. His flaggy wings when forth he did display Merrily, merrily goes the bark Were like two sails, in which the hollow wind On a breeze from the northward free; Is gather'd full, and worketh speedy way. So shoots through the morning sky the lark, SPENSER. Or the swan through the summer sea. How to build ships, and dreadful ordnance cast, SCOTT: Lord of the Isles. Instruct the artists, and reward their haste. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; WALLER. There, where your argosies with portly sail, Ships heretofore in seas like fishes sped: Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood, The mightiest still upon the smallest fed. Do overpeer the petty traffickers WALLER. That curtsy to them. SHAKSPEARE. The bigger whale like some huge carack lay, Which wanteth sea-room with her foes to play. Trust not to rotten planks. ALLER. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Where'er thy navy spreads her canvas wings, Burnt on the water. Homage to thee, and peace to all, she brings. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. SHIPS. -SHIP WIRE C. 473 Speed on the ship! -But let her bear He's a foolish seaman, No merchandise of sin, That, when his ship is sinking,.will not No groaning cargo of despair, Unlade his hopes into another bottom. Her roomy hold within. SIR J. DENHAM. No Lethean drug for Eastern lands, Nor pison-raugh for ours; So mariners mistake the promised gust, Nor poison-draught for ours; But h.onestfruitsoftoi hands And, with full sails, on the blind rocks are lost, But honest fruits of toiling handsDRYDEN. And Nature's sun and showers. Be hers the Prairie's golden grain, And cables crack; the sailors' fearful cries The Desert's golden sand, Ascend; and sable night involves the skies. The cluster'd fruits of sunny Spain, DRYDEN. The spice of Morning-land! Their images, the relics of the wreck, Helr pathway on the open main Torn from the naked poop, are tided back May blessings follow free, By the wild waves, and rudely thrown ashore. And glad hearts welcome back again DRYDEN. Her white sails from the sea. WHITTIER: T/ze S/isz-Bzuilders. Three ships were hurried by the southern blast, And on the secret shelves with fury cast. DRYDEN. SHIPWRECK. For though in dreadful whirls we hung Should a shipwreck'd sailor sing his woe, High on the broken wave, Wouldst thou be moved to pity, or bestow I knew thou wert not slow to hear, An alms? DRYDEN. Nor impotent to save. ADDISON. The scaly nations of the sea profound, What dreadful pleasure! there to stand sublime, Like shipwreck'd carcasses, are driven aground. Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast, DRYDEN. And view th' enormous waste of vapour, tost In billows length'ning to the horizon round! Mark how the shifting winds from west arise, BEATTIE: Mizst'el. And what collected night involves the skies! Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea, Then shriek'rd the timid, and stood still the Much less against the tempest force their way. brave; brave; DRYDEN. Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell,, Your safety, more than mine, was then my care: As eager to anticipate their grave. Aee iBYRON.g Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, Your ship should run against the rocky coast. Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, DRYDEN. Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shatter'd bark Three blustering nights, borne by the southern delay; blast, Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away. I floated, and discover'd land at last: CAMPBELL. High on a mounting wave my head I bore, So grieves th' advent'rous merchant, when he Forcing my strength, and gath'ring to the shore. DRYDEN. throws All his long-toil'd-for treasure his ship stows Some stow their oars, or stop the leaky sides; Into the angry main. Another, bolder yet, the yard bestrides, CAREW. And folds the sails; a fourth with labour laves Like those that see their wreck Th' intruding seas, and waves ejects on waves. Ev'n on the rocks of death; and yet they strain DRYDEN. That death may not them idly find t' attend To their uncertain task, but work to meet their Thrice round the ship was tost, end. Then bulged at once, and in the deep was lost. DANIEL. DRYDENo 474 S HIP WRE CK. The wild waves master'd him, and suck'd him in, Press'd with the pond'rous blow, And smiling eddies dimpled on the main. Down sinks the ship within th' abyss below. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Mine is the shipwreck, in a wat'ry sign! Take heed you steer your vessel right, my son; And in an earthy, the dark dungeon thine. This calm of heav'n, this mermaid's melody, DRYDEN. Into an unseen whirlpool draws you fast, And in a moment sinks you. Whether she sprung a leak, I cannot find, DRYDEN. Or whether she was overset with wind, Or that some rock below her bottom rent; Still we sail, while prosperous blows the wind, But down at once with all her crew she went. Till on some secret rock unwares we light. DRYDEN. FAIRFAX. And forced /Eneas, when his ships were lost, What scenes of misery torment thy view! To leave his followers on a foreign coast. What painful struggles of thy dying crew! DRYDEN. Thy perish'd hopes all buried in the flood, O'erspread with corses, red with human blood! The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way, So pierced with anguish hoary Priam gazed, And suck'd through loosen'd planks the rush- azed When Troy's imperial domes in ruin blazed. ing sea. DRYDEN. FALCONER: Si'zjwuleck. Then let the greedy merchant fear Red sheets of lightning o'er the seas are spread; For his ill-gotten gain, Our tackling yield, and wrecks at last succeed. And pray-to gods that will not hear, GARTH. While the debating winds and billows bear Observe those numerous wrongs in effigy His wealth into the main. The gods have saved from the devouring sea. DRYDEN.GARTH. Now a sea into the hold was got, The seaman, safe on shore, with joy doth tell Wave upon wave another sea had wrought. What cruel dangers him at sea befell. DRYDEN. JUVENAL. He saw his friends, who, whelm'd beneath the Her deck is crowded with despairing souls, waves, Anid in the hollow pauses of the storm Their fun'ral honours claim'd and ask'd their We hear their piercing cries. quiet graves. MATURIN: Be;tyramz. DRYDEN. He, like a foolish pilot, hath shipwreck'd The planks, their pitchy coverings wash'd away, My vessel gloriously rigg'd. Now yield, and now a yawning breach display: MILTON. The roaring waters, with a hostile tide, Rush through the ruins of her gaping side. Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, DRYDEN. That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Ev'ry nymph of the flood, her tresses rending, MILTON. Thronws off her armlet of pearl in the main; Still the battering waves rush in Neptune in anguish his charge unattending, Implacable, till, deluged by the foam, Vessels are found'ring, and vows are in vain. The ship sinks, foundring in the vast abyss. DRYDEN. JOHN PHILIPS. Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread, Oranlte's barque, ev'n in the hero's view, Frostem tter, n by wves was ovier Burst o'er the float, and thunder'd on his head. From stem to stern by waves was overborne. DRYDEN. I doom, to fix the gallant ship, When thou, thy ship o'erwhelm'd with waves, A marlk of vengeance on the sable deep; shalt be To warn the thoughtless self-confiding train Forced to plunge naked in the raging sea. No more unlicensed thus to brave the main. DRYDEN. POPE. SHIP WRE CK. 475 Thus saved friom death, they gain the Phestan Bends to the storm? Now sinks the note of fear! shores Ah! wretched mariners!-no more shall day With shatter'd vessels and disabled oars. Unclose his cheering eye to light ye on your way! POPE. MRS. RADCLIFFE: Mzysteries of &Uodoh/o. As when a wave, that ~friom a cloud impends, What though the mast be now blown overboard, The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, And swell'd with tempests, on the ship de- The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood; Yet lives our pilot still. White are the decks with foam; the winds es our pilot still.ERE SHAKSPEARE. aloud Howl o'er the masts, and sing through ev'ry Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea, shlroud. And twice, by adverse winds, from England's Pale, trembling, tired, the sailors freeze with bank fears, Drove back again into my native claim? SHAKSPEARE. And instant death on ev'ry wave appears. POPE. When the sun'gins his reflection, Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break. Some from the stranded vessel force their way; SHAuSPEARE. Fearful of fate, they meet it in the sea; Some who escape the fury of the wave After our ship did split, Sicken on earth, and sink into a grave. When you, and the poor number saved with you,'PRIOR. Hung on Our driving boat. SHAKSPEARE. Lightnings, that show the vast and foamy deep, I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, The rending thunders, as they onward roll, But I should think of shallows and of flats, The loud, loud winds, that o'er the billows And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, sweep- Veiling her high top lower than her ribs, Shake the firm nerve, appall the bravest soul! To kiss her burial. SHAISIPEARE. Ah! what avails the seamen's toiling care!I, in a desperate bay of death, The straining( cordage bursts, the mast is I, in a desperate bay of death,,riven Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, riven; The sounds of terror groan along the air, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. Then sink afar: the bark on rocks is driven! SHAISPEARE. Dalng'rous rocks, Fierce o'er the wreck the whelming waters Which, Dang'rous rocks, Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, pass'd, Would scatter all the spices on the stream, The helpless crew sunk in the roaring main? And in a word, yea, even now worth this, Henry's faint accents trembled in the blastAnd now worth nothing. Farewell, my love!-we ne'er shall meet SHAI(SPEARE. again! 0 Lord! methought, what pain it Dwas to drown Oft, at the calm and silent evening hour, What dreadful noise of water in mine ears! When summer breezes linger on the wave, VWhat sights of ugly death within mine eyes! A melancholy voice is heard to pour Methought I saw a thousand fearful wracks: Its lonely sweetness o'er poor Henry's grave: A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; And oft, at midnight, airy strains are heard Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Around the grove where Ellen's form is laid; Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Nor is the dirge by village maidens fear'd,- l SHAKSPEARE. For love's pure spirits guard the holy shade. HAIPEARE. MRS. RADCLIFFE: The Mzariner. Confusion dwelt in ev'ry face, And fear in ev'ry heart, But, hark! what shriek of death comes in the When waves on waves, and gulphs in gulphs, gale, O'ercame the pilot's art. And in the distant ray what glimmering sail Spectator. 476 SHIP WIRE CK. -SHRE WS.-SILEXCE. Learning his ship from those white cliffs to save Her eldest sister is so curst a shrewd, Which all along the southern sea-coast lay, That till the father rids his hands of her, Threat'ning unheedy wreck, and rash decay, Your love must live a maid. He named Albion. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. Be merry, be merry, my wife has all; Whilst they fly that gulf's devouring jaws, For women are shrews, both short and tall. They'on this rock are rent, and sunk in help- SHAKSPEARE. less waves. SPENSER.'Gainst which a ship, of succour desolate, SILENCE. Doth suffer wreck both of herself and goods. To check the starts and sallies of the soul, SPENSER. And break off all its commerce with the tongue. Your cables burst, and you must quickly feel ADDISON. The waves impetuous ent'ring at your keel. My list'ning powers SWIFT. Were awed, and ev'ry thought in silence hung, Bold were the men which on the ocean first And wond'ring expectation. AKENSIDE. Spread their new sails, when shipwreck was the worst. Silence in times of suff'ring is the best: WALLER.~'Tis dangerous to disturb a hornets' nest. Death was the post, which I almost did gain: DRYDEN. Shall I once more be tost into the main? But safe repose, without an air of breath, WALLER. Dwells here; and a dumb quiet, next to death. Burning ships the banish'd sun supply, DRYDEN. And no light shines but that by which men die. Nor awful Phobus was on Pindus heard'WALLER. With deeper silence, or with more regard. He from his flaming ship his children sent, DRYDEN. To perish in a milder element. TWiALLER. He might be silent, and not cast away His sentences in vain. After a tempest, when the winds are laid, BEN JONSON. The calm sea wonders at the wrecks it made. WALLER. Indeed, true gladness doth not always speak: Joy bred and born but in the tongue is weak. Oh, many a dream was in the ship BEN JONSON: Olz /,Se Corolzatiolz. An hour before her death; And sights of home with sighs disturb'd Silence! coeval with eternity, The sleepers' long-drawn breath. Thou wert ere nature first began to be; PROF. JOHN WILSON.'Twas one vast nothing all, and all slept fast in Five hundred souls in one instant of dread thee. Are hurried o'er the deck; POPE. And fast the miserable ship Here all their care and ev'n their murmurs Becomes a lifeless wreck. cease, Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock, And sacred silence reigns, and universal peace. Her planks are torn asunder, POPE. And down come her masts with a reeling shock And a hideous crash like thunder. Hail, happy groves! calm and secure retreat PROIFI. JOIH-N 7Wj~ILSON: Isle of Palms. Of sacred silence, rest's eternal seat! ROSCOMMON. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy; SHREWS. I were but little happy if I could say how much. Her sallow cheeks her envious mind did show, SHAKSPEARE. And ev'ry feature spoke aloud the shrew. Give thy thoughts no tongue. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. SIZLEXCE. -SIV. 477 I do know of those The wretch is drench'd too deep; That therefore only are reputed wise His soul is stupid, and his heart asleep; For saying nothing. Fatten'd in vice, so callous and so gross, SHAKSPEARE. He sins, and sees not, senseless of his loss. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; DRYDEN. For had the passions of thy heart burst out, Far other plaints, tears, and laments I fear we should have seen decipher'd there The time, the place, and our estates require: Miost rancrous spite. Think on thy sins, which man's old foe presents SHAKSPEARE..And even calm SHARSPEARE. Before that judge that quits each soul his hire. And even calm FAIRFAX. Perpetual reign'd, save what the zephyrs bland Breathed o'er the blue expanse. If thou dost ill, the joy fades, not the pains; THOMSON. If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. The poor shade shiv'ring stands, and must not GEORGE HERBERT. break The body sins not;'tis the will His painful silence, till the mortal speak. That makes the action good or ill. That makes the action good or ill. TICKELL. HERRICK. On seas, on earth, and all that in them dwell, But harm precedes not sin; only our foe, A death-like quiet and deep silence fell. Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem WALLER. Of our integrity. MILTON. SIN. Adam, soon as he heard He that commits a sin shall find The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, The pressing guilt lie heavy on his mind, Astonied stood, and blank, while horror chill Though bribes or favours shall assert his cause. Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd CREECH. MILTON. The soul being first from nothing brought, If it be weigh'd When God's grace fails her, doth to nothing By itself, with aggravations not surcharged, fall; Or else with just allowance counterpoised, And this declining proneness unto nought I may, if possible, thy pardon find Is ev'n that sin that we are born withal. The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. SIR J. DAVIES. MILTON. How senseless then and dead a soul hath he This act Which thinks his soul doth with his body die; Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength, Or thinks not so, but so would have it be, Defeating sin and death, his two main arms. That he might sin with more security MILTON. SIR J. DAVIEs. Sin, and her shadow, death. He that but conceives a crime in thought, MILTON. Contracts the danger of an actual fault: Death from sin no power can separate. Then what must he expect that still proceeds MILTON. To commit sin, and work up thoughts to deeds? -DR'YDEN. Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade. SHAKSPEARE, He that once sins, like him that slides on ice, Goes swiftly down the slippery ways of vice: Confess thee freely of thy sin; Though conscience checks him, yet, those rubs For to deny each article with oath, gone o'er, Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception He slides on smoothly, and looks back no more. That I do groan withal. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. The man that shiver'd on the brink of sin, Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides; Thus steel'd and harden'd, ventures boldly in. Who covers faults at last with shame derides. DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. 478 SIV. -SINVGIiNG. Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. What then? What rests? SHAKSPEARE. Try what repentance can: What can it not? Were man IYet what can it when one can not repent? O wretched state! O bosom black as death! But constant, he were perfect: that one error Fills him with faults, makes him run through all O limed soul; that, struggling to be free, ~~~~~sins. ~Art more engaged! SASER.SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your But those as sleep and think not on their sins, Pinch their arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, hands, and shins. Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates SHAXKSPEARE. Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, And water cannot wash away your sin. Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! SHAISPEARE. Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none; forgive my sins, and paon thee SHAKSPEARE. And some condemned for a fault alone. SHAKSPEARE. Our sins, like to our shadows When our day is in its glory, scarce appear'd: There is a vice that most I do abhor, of justice Towards our evening how great and monstrous And most desilre should meet the blow of justice; They are! For which I would not plead, but that I must; SIR J. SUCKLING: Agrle-a. For which I must not plead, but that I am At war,'twixt will, and will not. SHAKSPEARE. SINGING. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. SHAKSPEARE. Here the muse so oft her harp has strung That not a mountain rears its head unsung. Why, ev'ry fault's condemn'd ere it be done: ADDISON. Mine were the very cipher of a function, To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And I so ravish'd with her heav'ly note, And let go by the actor. I stood entranced, and had no room for thought; And let go by the actor. SHAKSPEARE. But, all o'erpow'r'd with ecstasy of bliss, Was in a pleasing dream of paradise. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; DRYDEN. And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought. On the green bank I sat, and listen'd long; SHAKSPEARE. Nor till her lay was ended could I move, But wish'd to dwell forever in the grove. Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, DRYDEN. Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd; No reckoning made, but sent to my account Am I call'd upon the grave debate With all my imperfections on my head: To judge of trilling notes and tripping feet? O horrible O horrible! most horrible! DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. This done, she sung and caroll'd out so clear He took my father grossly, full of bread; That men and angels might rejoice to hear. With all his crimes broad blown, as fresh as May; DRYDEN. And how his audit stands, who knows, save heaven? Here, where the labourer's hands have form'd a But in our circumstance and course of thought, bow'r'Tis heavy with him. Of wreathing trees, in singing waste an hour. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Thy tuneful voice with numbers join; collected from his life. Thy words will more prevail than mine. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. SINGING. 479 If ere night the gath'ring clouds we fear, God sent his Singers upon earth A song will help the beating storm to bear; With songs of sadness and of mirth, And, that thou may'st not be too late abroad, That they might touch the hearts of men, Sing, and I'll ease thy shoulders of thy load. And bring them back to heaven again. DRYDEN. LONGFELLOW: Siznffe s. Thyrsis? whose artful strains have oft delay'd Her ruby lips lock up from gazing sight gazing The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, A troop of pearls, which march in goodly row: And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale. But when she deigns those precious bones unMILTON. dight, Soon heavenly notes from those divisions flow, He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing; And with rare music charm the ravish'd ears, Which when I did, he on the tender grass Daunting bold thoughts, but cheering modest Would sit and hearken even to ecstasy. fears: MILTON. The spheres so only sing, so only charm the With wanton heed and giddy cunning spheres. The melting voice through mazes running. PHINEAS FLETCHER: Puzrpe Island. MILTON. Those just spirits that wear victorious palms, Nor ballad-singer, placed above the crowd, Sings with a note so shrilling sweet and loud, Nor parish clerk, who calls the psalm so clear. Singing continually. MILTON. GAY. But would you sing and rival Orpheus' strain, When fast asleep they Bowzybeus spied; The wondering forests soon should dance again; His hat and oaken staff lay close beside: The moving mountains hear the powerful call, That Bowzybeus who could sweetly sing, And headlong streams hang list'ning in their Or with the rosin'd bow torment the string; fall. That Bowzybeus who, with fingers' speed, POPE. Could call soft warblings from the breathing To you I mourn, nor to the deaf I sing; reed;'The woods shall answer, and the echo ring. That Bowzybeus who, with jocund tongue, POPE. Ballads and roundelays and catches sung: Alas! young man, your days can ne'er be long: They loudly laugh to see the damsel's fright, In flow'r of age you perish for a song. And in disport surround the drunken wight. POPE. GAY: Shzepherds' Week. The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego So sang the sirens, with enchanting sound, And leap exulting like the bounding roe. Enticing all to listen, and be drown'd. POPE. GRANVILLE. Enough for me that to the list'ning swains First in those fields I sung the sylvan strains. And those who heard the Singers three POPE. Disputed which the best might be; Disputed which the best might be; The season when to come, and when to go, For still their music seem'd to start To sig To sing, or cease to sing, we never know. Discordant echoes in each heart. POPE. POPE. But the great Master said, "I see Each morn they waked me with a sprightly lay; No best in kind, but in degree; Of opening heav'n they sung, and gladsome day. I gave a various gift to each, PRIOR. To charm, to strengthen, and to teach. To hear thy rhymes and roundelays, Which thou wert wont in wasteful hills to "These are the three great chords of might, sing, And he whose ear is tuned aright I more delight than lark in summer days, Will hear no discord in the three, Whose echo made the neighb'ring groves to But the most perfect harmony." ring LONGFELLOW: Sitgers. SPENSER. 480 SLA NDDER. -SSLA VER Y If thou would'st vouchsafe to overspread O many a shaft at random sent Me with the shadow of thy gentle wing, Finds mark the archer never meant, I should enabled be thy acts to sing. And many a word at random spoken SPENSER. May soothe or wound the heart that's broken. SCOTT: Loerd of the Isles.'Tis slander, SLANIDER. SLANDER. Whose edge is sharper than the sword. Be silent, and beware, if such you see; SHAKSPEARE.'Tis defamation but to say, " That's he!" Nor might nor greatness in mortality DRYDEN. Can censure'scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes: what king so strong, Thus others we with defamation wound, While they stab us; and so the jest goes round. Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. He that shall rail against his absent friends, When your good word cannot advantage him, Or hears them scandalized, and not defends; Your slander never can endamage him. Sports with their fame, and speaks whate'er SHAKISPEARE. he can, If I'm traduced by tongues which neither know And only to be thought a witty man; My faculties nor person, yet will be Tells tales, and brings his friends in disesteem: The chronicles of my doing, let me say That man's a knave,-be sure beware of him.'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake HORACE. That virtue must go through. SHAKSPEARE. Nor with envenom'd tongue to blast the fame Of harmless men.'Tis slander, whose breath JOHN PHILIPS. Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world. The world with calumny abounds; All corners of the world. SHAKSPEARE. The whitest virtue slander wounds: There are whose joy is, night and day, Done to death by slanderous tongues. To talk a character away. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. For slander lives upon succession; Of all her dears she never slander'd one, Forever housed where it gets possession. But cares not if a thousand are undone. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. The best way is to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,To me belongs The caretosh eo me belongs t Three things that women highly hold in hate. The care to shun the blast of sland'rous tongues: SHAKSPEARE. Let malice, prone the virtuous to defame, Away the fair detractors went, Thus with wild censure taint my spotless name. -POPE. And gave by turns their censures vent. SWIFT. He who hurts a harmless neighbour's peace, Whence proceeds this weight we lay Who loves a lie, lame slander helps about, On what detracting people say? Who writes a libel, or who copies out.' Their utmost malice cannot make POPE: Epistles. Your head, or tooth, or finger ache, In various talk th' instructive hours they past, Nor spoil your shape, distort your face, Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; Or put one feature out of place. SWIFT. One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; SLAVERY. At every word a reputation dies; In ocean's wide domains, Snuff or the fan supply each pause of chat Half buried in the sands, With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that. Like skeletons in chains, POPE: Rape of the Lock. With shackled feet and hands, SLA VER Y -SLEEP. 481 Beyond the fall of dews, While thus she rested, on her arm reclined, Deeper than plummet lies, The hoary willows waving with the wind, Float ships, with all their crews, And feather'd quires that warbled in the shade, No more to sink or rise. And purling streams that through the meadow There the black slave-ship swims, stray'd, Freighted with human forms, In drowsy murmurs lull'd the gentle maid. Whose fetter'd fleshless limbs ADDISON. Are not the sport of storms. O ye immortal powers that guard the just, These are the hbones of slaves; Watch round his couch, and soften his repose, They gleam from the abyss; Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul They gleam from the abyss; They cry, from yawning waves, With easy dreams; remember all his virtues, They cry, fi'om yawning waves, "We are the Witnesses " And show mankind that goodness is your care! ADDISON. LONGFELLOW: The Witnesses. Happy he whose toil The conquer'd also, and enslaved by war, Has o'er his languid powerless limbs diffused Shall, with their freedom lost, their virtue lose. A pleasing lassitude; he not in vain MILTON. Invokes the gentle deity of dreams: First slave to words, then vassal to a name, His powers the most voluptuously dissolve Then dupe to party; child and man the same. In soft repose: on him the balmy dews POPE. Of sleep with double nutriment descend. DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: The wretched slave, A Prese eat. rt/r of Preserving~ H-fealth. Who, with a body fill'd and vacant mind, Gets him to rest, cramm'dwith distressful bread. How happy is that balm to wretches, sleep SHAKSPEARE. No cares perplex them for their future state, And fear of death thus dies in senseless sleep.. No thralls like them that inward bondage have. BEAUMONT: Qzeen of Corint/h. SIR P. SIDNEY. Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes, "All ready?" cried the captain; Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose "Ay, ay!" the seamen said: On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud " Heave up the worthless lubbers- In gentle showers; give nothing that is loud The dying and the dead." Or painful to his slumbers; easy, sweet [light?>. Up from the slave-ship's prison And as a purling stream, thou son of night, Fierce, bearded heads were thrust- Pass by his troubled senses, sing his pain " Now let the sharks look to it- Like hollow murmuring wind or gentle rain. Toss up the dead ones first." Into this prince gently, oh, gently slide, And kiss him into slumbers like a bride. Corpse after corpse came up,ZBEAU1MONT AND FLETCHER: [ceslzz''ia7n. Death had been busy there: When every blow is mercy, Sleep is no servant of the will; Why should the spoiler spare? It has caprices of its own: Corpse after corpse they cast When courted most, it lingers still; Sullenly from the ship, When most pursued,'tis swiftly gone. Yet bloody with the traces SIR J. BOWnINiG: froJm the Spanziszh. Of fetter, link, and whip. Hence our desires, fears, hopes, love, hate, and WHITTIER: The Slave-S/2izs. sorrow, In fancy make us hear, feel, see impressions Such as out of our sense they do not borrow, SLEEP. A And are the efficient cause, the true progressions Of sleeping visions, idle phantasms waking, lM\y soul is quite weigh'd down w'ith care, and Life, dreams, and knowledge, apparitions makasks ing. The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep. LORD BROOKE: ADDISON. Treatise on HZtzman Learning. 31 482 SL EEP. Of all the thoughts of God that are Sleep hath its own world, Borne inward unto souls afar A boundary between the things thus named, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Death and existence: sleep hath its own world, Now tell me if that any is And a wide realm of wild reality; For gift or grace surpassing this- And dreams in their development have breath, " He giveth His beloved sleep!" And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy. MRS. E. B. BROWNING. BYRON: Dreamz. "Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say, My slumbers-if I slumber-are not sleep, But have no tune to charm away But a continuance of enduring.thought, Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep: Which then I can resist not. But never doleful dream again BYRON: Manf/red. Shall break the happy slumber when Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, He giveth His beloved sleep. Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; MRS. E. B. BROWNING. She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, How he sleepeth, having drunken Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive Weary childhood's mandragore! eyes. -From his pretty eyes have sunken pe. Pleasures to make room for more,- Within a thicket I reposed; when round.Sleeping near the wither'd nosegay which he I ruffled up fall'n leaves in heaps, and found, pull'd the day before. Let fall from heaven, a sleep interminate. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: CHAPMAN: Odyssey. A Cd.ild Asleeyp. O sleep! it is a gentle thing,:Sleep on, baby, on the floor, Beloved from pole to pole. Tired of all the playing! To Mary Queen the praise be given! Sleep with smile the sweeter for She sent the gentle sleep from heaven That, you dropp'd away in! That slid into my soul.,On your curls' full roundness, stand COIERIDGE: Rizme of te Ancienl MAariner. Golden lights serenely: It was the time when gentle night began iOne cheek push'dc out by the hand, T' indrench with sleep the busy spirits of man, Folds the dimple inly. COWLEY. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Sleeping anid WTaatc/zidg. Sleep seems their only refuge: for, alas! Where penury is felt, the thought is chain'd, Sweet be thy cradled slumbers! O'er the sea, And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few. And from the mountains where I now respire, COWPER: Task.:Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee, /As,,with a sigh, I deem thou might'st have been Thou, faint god of sleep forget that I to me. Was ever known to be thy votary. BYRON: Childe Harold. No more my pillow shall thine altar be, Nor will I offer any more to thee'Man o'erlabour'd with his being's strife, Myself a fiielting sacrifice. Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life: CRASHAW.elting sacrifice. CRASHAW.'There lie love's feverish hope, and cunning's guile, Why dost thou shake thy leaden sceptre? go,'Hate's working brain, and lull'd ambition's Bestow thy poppy upon wakeful woe, wile; Sickness and sorrow, whose pale lids ne'erknow'O'er each vain eye oblivion s pinions wave, Thy downy fingers: dwell upon their eyes: And quench'd existence crouches in a grave. Shut in their tears, shut out their miseries. And quench'd existence crouches in a grave. What better name may slumber's bed become? CRASHAW. Night's sepulchre, the universal home, The night's companion, kindly cheating them'Where weakness, strength, vice, virtue, sunk Of all their cares, tamed the rebellious eye supine, Of sorrow with a soft and downy hand, Alike in naked helplessness recline. Sealing all breasts in a lethean band. BYRON: Lara. CRASHAW. SLEEP. 483 Why dost thou let thy brave soul lie suppress'd Sleep, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest, In death-like slumbers, while thy dangers crave Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals A waking eye and hand? brings, CRASHAW. - Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings, Let them sleep, let them sleep on, Sole comforter of minds with grief oppress'd; Till this stormy night be gone, Lo, by thy charming rod, all breathing things And th' eternal morrow dawn: Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possess'd, Then the curtains will be drawn, And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings And they waken with that light Thou spar'st, alas! who cannot be thy guest. Whose day shall never sleep in night. Since I am thine, 0 come, but with that face CRASHAW. To inward light which thou art wont to show, Welcome, thou pleasing slumber; With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe; Awhile embrace me in thy leaden arms, Or if, deaf god, thou do deny that grace, And charm my careful thoughts. Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath: SIR J. DENHAM. I long to kiss the image of my death. Morpheus, the humble god that dwellsDRUMMOND: On Sleep. In cottages and smoky cells, The diligence of trade, and noiseful gain, Hates gilded roofs and beds of down: And luxury, more late, asleep were laid: And, though he fears no prince's frown, All was the night's; and, in her silent reign, Flies from the circle of a crown. No sound the rest of Nature did invade. Come, I say, thou powerful god, DRYDEN. And thy leaden charming rod, Dipt in the Lethean lake, Scarce the weary god had closed his eyes, O'er his wakeful temples shake, When, rushing on with shouts, he binds in Lest he should sleep and never wake. chains Nature, alas! why art thou so The drowsy prophet, and his limbs constrains. Obliged to thy greatest foe? DRYDEN. Sleep that is thy best repast, Yet of death it bears a taste, No door was there th' unguarded house to keep, Yet of death it bears a taste, And both are the same thing at iast. On creaking hinges turn'd, to break his sleep. SIR J. DENHAM: Sopay, Act v. Nothing resembles death so much as sleep; With watching overworn, with cares oppress'd, Yet then our minds themselves from slumber Unhappy I had laid me down to rest. keep, DRYDEN. When from their fleshy bondage they are free. I turn'd, and tried each corner of my bed, SIR J. DENHAM. To find if sleep were there; but sleep was lost. Sleep to those empty lids DRYDEN. Is grown a stranger; and day and night As undistinguish'd by my sleep as sight. Tardy of aid, unseal thy heavy eyes, SIR J. DENHAM. Awake, and with the dawning day arise. DRYDEN. Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfil All offices of death, except to kill. She scarce awake her eyes could keep, DONNE. Unable to support the fumes of sleep. By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of. Death, DRYDEN. Flat on the ground, and still as any stone; I wanted nothing fortune could supply; A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath: Nor did she slumber till that hour deny. Small keep tookl he, whom fortune frowned on, DRYDEN. Or whom she lifted up into the throne Of high renown, but, as a living death, For then the hills with pleasing shades are So dead alive, of life he drew the breath. crown'd, EARL OF DORSET: And sleeps are sweeter on the silken ground. Mirerour for Magistzates. DRYDEN. 484 SL'EEP. Now the latter watch of wasting night, The busy bees with a soft murmuring strain And setting stars, to kindly rest invite. Invite to gentle sleep the lab'ring swain. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Take you the reins, while I from cares remove Hermes o'er his head in air appeard, And sleep within the chariot which I drove. And with soft words his drooping spirits cheer'd; DRYDEN. His hat adorn'd with wings disclosed the god, And in his hand he bore the sleep-compelling Fear broke my slumbers: I no longer stay, rod. But mount the terrace, thence the town survey. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sometimes beneath an ancient oak Aghast he waked, and, starting from his bed, Or on the matted grass he lies; Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'er- No god of sleep he did invoe: spread. The stream that o'er the pebble flies DRYDEN. With gentle slumber crowns his eyes. DRYDEN. Sprightly May commands our youth to keep The vigils of her night, and breaks their slug- Shady groves, that easy sleep invite, gard sleep. And after toilsome days a soft repose at night. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The lazy glutton safe at home will keep, The yawning'youth, scarce half awake, essays Indulge his sloth, and fatten with his sleep. His lazy limbs and dozy head to raise. ~~~~~DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Some solitary cloister will I choose, Around its entry nodding poppies grow, Coarse my attire, and short shall be my sleep, And all cool simples that sweet rest bestow; Broke by the melancholy midnight bell. Night from the plants their sleepy virtue drains, DRYDEN. And passing sheds it on the silent plains. DRYDEN. Such visions hourly pass before my sight, Which from my eyes their balmy slumbers fright. The wrind that whistles through the splaysDRYDEN. Maintains the consort of the song; And hidden birds, with native lays,'Tis now the hour which all to sleep allow, The golden sleep prolong. And sleep sits heavy upon ev'ry brow. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Each day new wealth without their care pro- Our men secure nor guards nor sentries held, vides; nBut easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd. They lie asleep with prizes in their nets. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A thousand nights have brush'd their balrmy They give their bodies due repose at night, When hollow murmurs of their ev'ning bells Over these eyes. Dismiss the sleepy swains, and toll them to DRYDEN. their cells. DRYDEN. Before the day was done, her work she sped, And never went by candlelight to bed. 0 sacred rest! D Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the Has Somnus brush'd thy eyelids with his rod? day. ~~day. ~DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Here toils and death, and death's half-brother Two gates the silent house of sleep adorn, sleep, Of polish'd ivory this, that of transparent horn; Forms terrible to view, their sentry keep; True visions through transparent horn arise, With anxious pleasures of a guilty mind, Through polish'd ivory pass deluding lies. Deep frauds before, and open force behind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. SLE EP. 485 Cares shall not keep him on the throne awake, The latter watch of wasting night, Nor break the golden slumbers he would take. And setting stars, to kindly sleep invite. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sleep flies the wretch; or when with cares op- The fanning wind and purling streams continue press'd, her repose. And his toss'd limbs are wearied into rest, DRYDEN. Then dreams invade. Sleep! to the homeless thou art home; DRYDEN. The friendless find in thee a friend; Of sleep forsaken, to relieve his care, And well is, wheresoe'er he roam, Who meets thee at his journey's end. He sought the conversation of the fair. Who meets thee at his journey's end. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. EBENEZER ELLIOTT. Now spread the night her spangled canopy, And summon'd every restless eye to sleep. Care seized his soul, and sleep forsook his eyes. Ad sumond every restless eye to sleep. FAIRFAX. DRYDEN. Cool groves and living lakes Foul spirits haunt my resting-place, Give after toilsome days a soft repose at night. And ghastly visions break my sleep by night. DRYDEN. FAIRFAX. At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought. No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, Wheni, from above, a more than mortal sound GAY ~~~Invades his ears. ~From toil he wins his spirits light, Invades his ears. DRYDEN. From busy day the peaceful night, Rich firom the very wtant of wealth, While the stars and course of heaven I keep, In heaven's best treasures, peace and health. My wearied eyes were seized with fatal sleep. GRAY: Ode. DRYDEN. I sought my bed, in hopes relief to find, Long draughts of sleep his monstrous limbs But restlessness was mistress of my mind. WVALTER HARTE. He reels, and, falling, fills the spacious cave. DRYDEN. O gentle sleep, I cried, Why is thy gift to me alone denied? We lived supine amidst our flowing store, Milldest of beings, friend to ev'ry clime, We slept securely, and we dreamt of more. Where lies my error, what has been my crime? DRYDEN. Beasts, birds, and cattle feel thy balmy rod; His fellow, who the narrow bed had kept, The drowsy mountains'wave, and seem to nod; Was weary, and without a rocker slept. The torrents cease to chide, the seas to roar, DRYDEN. And the hush'd waves recline upon the shore. Hark, hark! the waters fall; WALTER HARTE. And with a murmuring sound, Dasdshpon theo, Something between a cottage and a cell;,Dash, dash upon the ground, Yet virtue here could sleep and peace could To gentle slumbers call. DRYDEN dwell.ALTER HARTE WALTER HARTE. While Hermes piped and sung, and told his tale, Oh, lightly, lightly tread! The keeper's winking eyes began to fail, A holy thing is sleep, And drowsy slumber on the lips to creep, On the worn spirit shed, Till all the watchman was at length asleep. And eyes that wake to weep. DRYDEN. MRS. HEMANS. What ho! thou genius of the clime, what ho! The Halcyon Sleep will never build his nest Liest thou asleep beneath these hills of snow? In any stormy breast. Stretch out thy lazy limbs.'Tis not enough that he does find DRYDEN. Clouds and darkness in the mind: Wretched Darkness but half his work will do: Are mortals born.to sleep their lives away!'Tis not enough: he must find quiet too. DRYDEN. HORACE, by COWLEY. 486 SLEEP. Imnmured and buried in perpetual sloth, Sleep, sleep, 0 city! till the light That gloomy slumber of the stagnant soul. Wakes you to sin and crime again, DR. S. JOHNSON. Whilst on your dreams, like dismal rain, I scatter downward through the night Come, we all sleep, and are mere dormice flies, My maledictions dark and deep. My maledictions dark and deep. A little less than dead: more dulness hangs LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. On us than on the moon. BEN JONSON. Dreams of the summer night! Tell her, her lover keeps Good impertinence: Watch! while in slumbers light Thy company, if I slept not very well She sleeps! A-nights, would make me an errant fool with My lady sleeps My lady sleeps! questions. BEN JONSON. LONGFELLOW: Spanish Student. O magic sleep! 0 comfortable bird He sleeps, if it be sleep, this starting trance, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Whose feverish tossings and deep mutter'd Till all is hush'd and smooth! groans KEATS::^ZCEndyiion. Do prove the soul shares not the body's rest. Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest, MATURIN: Ber-tam. In sort of wakeful swoon perplex'd she lay, There gentle sleep Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd First found me, and with soft oppression seized Her smoothed limbs, and soul fatigued away, My drowned senses uncontroll'd. Flown, like a thought until the morrow day, MILTON. Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain. He his sleep KEATS: Eve of St. Agnes. Disturb'd not, waiting close th' approach of morn MILTON. So sleeps the sea-boy on the cloudy mast, A death-like sleep Safe as a drowsy Triton rock'd with storms, A gentle wafting to immortal life! While tossing princes wake in beds of down. MILTON. LEE: Mitlh;idaltes. Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, Solemnly, mournfully, By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. Dealing its dole, MILTON. The Curfew BeII Is beginning to toll. Let Eve (for I have drench'd her eyes) Here sleep below, while thou to foresight Cover the embers, wak'st; And put out the light; As once thou slept'st while she to life was Toil comes with the morning, formn' d. And rest with the night. MILTON. Dark grow the Twindo~w~rs, Sleep hath forsook, and giv'n me o'er And quench'd is the fire: To death's benumming opium, as my only cure. Sound fades into silence,- MILTON. All footsteps retire. His sleep Was airy, light, from pure digestion bred, No voice in the chambers,: And temperate vapours bland, which th' only No sound in the hall! sound Sleep and oblivion Of leaves and running rills (Aurora's fan) Reign over all. LONGFELLOW: CZefeZO. Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song I cannot sleep! my fervid brain Of birds on ev'ry bough. MILTON. Calls up the vanish'd Past again, And throws its misty splendours deep What in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Into the pallid realms of sleep! Waking thou never wilt consent to do. LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. MILTON. SLEEP. 487 The timely dew of sleep, Who sat the nearest, by the words. o'ercome, Now falling with soft slumb'rous weight, inclines Slept fast; the distant nodded to the hum. Our eyelids. POPE. MILTON. Not write! but then I think; In deep of night, when drowsiness And, for my soul, I cannot sleep a wink. Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I - POPE. To the celestial siren's harmony. Belinda still her downy pillow prest, MILTON. Her guardian sylph prolong'd the balmy rest. She dictates to me slumbering, or inspires POPE. Easy my unpremeditated verse. MILTON. Ah, why, Penelope, this causeless fear, To render sleep's soft blessings insincere? Fancy then retires Alike devote to sorrow's dire extreme Into her private cell, when nature rests. The day reflection and the midnight dream. MILTON. POPE. Th' hour Th' hour Not balmy sleep to lab'rers faint with pain, Of night, and of all things retired to rest, Not show'rs to larks, or sunshine to the bee, Mind us of like repose. MILTON. Are half so charming as thy sight to me. MILTON. POPEo Dewy sleep oppress'd them wearied. MILTON. I take the wood, And, in thick shelter of innum'rous boughs, Glad I'd lay me down Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows. As in my mother's lap; there I should rest, POPE. And sleep secure. MILTON. His neck obliquely o'er his shoulders hung, Bless'd with the weight of sleep that tames the Men sleeping sound by whom they dread, strong. Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. POPE. POPE. MILTON. Sloth unfolds her arms, and wakes; I question thy bold entrance, List'ning Envy drops her snakes. Employ'd to violate the sleep of those POPE. Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss. The seer, while zephyrs curl the swelling deep, Basks on the breezy shore, in grateful sleep, The drowsy frighted steeds His oozy limbs. That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep. POPE. MILTON. To the same notes thy sons shall hum or snore. The bee with honey'd thigh, And all thy yawning daughters cry encore. That at her flow'ry work doth sing, POPE. And the waters murmuring, Still humming on their drowsy course they keep With such consort as they ~keep, And lash'd so long, like tops, are lash'd asleep. Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep. POPE. MILTON. Melancholy lifts her head; Kind sleep affords Morpheus rouses from his bed. The only boon the wretched mind can feel,- POPE. A momentary respite firom despair. All night I slept, oblivious of my pain; ARTHUR MURPHY: 4Ai1zzia. Aurora dawn'd and Phcebus shined in vain; Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray, All birds and beasts lie hush'd; sleep stealse sloped his evening ray, Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away. awiay POPE. The wild desires of men and toils of day, And brings, descending through the silent air, Labour and rest, that equal periods keep; A sweet forgetfulness of human care. Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep. POPE. POPE. 468 SLEEP. There ev'ry eye with slumlb'rous chains she Weariness bound, Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth And dash'd the flowing goblets to the ground. Finds the down pillow hard. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Then balmy sleep had charm'd my eyes to rest, Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes, What time the morn mysterious visions brings, And made them watchers of mine own heart's While purer slumbers spread their golden wings. sorrow. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries, This sleep is sound; this is a sleep In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes. That from this golden rigol hath divorced POPE. So many English kings. SHAKSPEARE. While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep. I have been troubled in my sleep this night; POPE. But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. Sleep instantly fell on me, call'd SHAKSPEARE. By nature as in aid, and closed her husband's eyes.:~Banquo! Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! PRIOR. Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, What could the head perform alone, And look on death itself SHAKSPEARE. If all their friendly aids were gone? A foolish figure he must make; Two deep enemies, Do nothing else but sleep and ache. Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disPRIOR. turbers, The busy craftsman and o'erlabour'cl hiind Are they that I would have thee deal upon. Forget the travail of the day in sleep; SHAKSPEARE. Care only wakes, and moping pensiveness; He sleeps by day With meagre discontented looks they sit More than the wild cat: drones hive not with And watch the wasting of the midnight taper! me, ROWE. Therefore I part with him. SHAKSPEARE. Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking. By the help of these, with Him above SIR W. SCOTT: lady, oft ie ZLake. To ratify the work, we may again Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights. 0 polish'd perturbation! golden care! SHAI(SPIARE. That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night: sleep with it now; What's the business, Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley As he whose brow with homely biggen bound The sleepers of the house? Sleeps out the watch of night. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour You lack the season of all natures, sleep. When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. I have slept fifteen years. The two delinquents Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me. That were the slaves of drink and thralls of SHAKSPEARE. sleep. SHAKSPEARE. Tell me, what is't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, SHAKSPEARE. The which he lacks; that to provoke in him Sleep rock thy brain, Are many simples operative, whose power And never come mischance between us twain! Will close the eye of anguish. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. SL;EEP. 489 Let me have men about me that are fat, Here cease more questions; Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights. Thou art inclined to sleep.'Tis a good dulness, SHAKSPEARE. And give it way. SHAKSPEARE. Go you, and where you find a maid, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: That, ere she sleep, hath thrice her prayers It seldom visits sorrow; when it said, It seldom visits sorrow; when.t doth, Raise up the organs of her fantasy; SHAKSPEARE. Sleep she as sound as careless infancy: But those that sleep, and think not on theirGood rest sills, As wretches have o'er night Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, That-wait for execution in the morn. and shins. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Come with words as med'cinal as true, Honest as either; to purge him of that humour Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! h That presses him from sleep. Macbeth doth murder sleep; the innocent sleep; SHAKSPEARE. Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, 0 murth'rous slumber! Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy course, That plays thee music? Chief nourisher in life's feast. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. There should be hours for necessities, In swinish sleep Not for delights; times to repair our nature Their drenched natures lie, as in a death. With comforting repose, and not for us SHAKSPEARE. To waste these times. SHAKSPEARE. Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, SHAKSPEARE. And nature must obey necessity; Which we will niggard with a little rest. Now o'er one half the world SHAKSPEARE. Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse T Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, The curtain'd sleep. SHAKSPEARE. And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, nap, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? Lest leaden slumber poise me down to-morrow, SHAKSPEARE. When I should mount with wings of victory. SHAKSPEARE. There are a kind of men so loose of soul SHAKSPEARE. That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs. Oppress'd nature sleeps; SHAKSPEARE. This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, senses, All with weary task fordone. Which, if convenience will not allow, SHARSPEARE. Stand in hard cure. SHAKSPEARE. I will drain him dry as hay; Sleep shall neither night nor day Merciful powers! Hang upon his penthouse lid: Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature He shall live a man forbid. Gives way to in repose. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. If sleep charge nature If I may trust the flatt'ering ruth of sleep, To break it with a fearful dream of him, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. And cry myself awake. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 490 SZEEP. Care keeps his watch in ev'ry old man's eye: We were dead asleep, And where care lodges sleep will never lie; And, how we know not, all clapt under hatches. But where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain, SHAKSPEARE. Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy reign. SHAKSPEARE.two Of his own chamber. To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes, SHAKSPEARE. And give as soft attachment to thy senses Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake As infants empty of all thought. in joy; SHRAKSPEAIRE. Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy. SHAKESPEARE. Thy spirit within hath been so at war, That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow. Sweet! leave me here a while: S1-IAKSPEARE. My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep. Canst thou, 0 partial sleep, give thy repose SHAKSPEARE. To the wet sea-boy, in an hour so rude, 0 gentle sleep! And, in the calmest and the stillest night, And, in the calmest and the stillest night, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, With all appliances and means to boot, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, Deny it to a kling? SHAKSPEARE. And steep my senses in forgetfulness? SHAKSPEARE. Come, Desdemona!'tis the soldiers' life Come, Desdemona!1'tis the soldiers' life No, not all these thrice-gorgeous ceremonies, To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. Not all these laid in bed majestical, SHAKSPEARE. Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, Look where he comes! not poppy, nor man- Who with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, dr ~agora, Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, SHAISPEARE. Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Enjoy the honey heavy dew of slumber: Which thou ow'dst yesterday. Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies, SHAKSPEARE. Which busy care draws in the brains of men: Not so sick, my lord, Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, SHAKSPEARE. That keep her from her rest. How wonderful is Death! SHAKSPEARE. Death and his brother Sleep. SHELLEY: Queen Mazb. To thee I do commend my watchful soul, Ere I let fall the windows of mnine eyes: My banks they are furnish'd with bees, Sleeping and waking, O defend me still! Whose murmur invites one to sleep; SHAKSPEARE. My grottoes are shaded with trees, And my hills are white over with sheep. Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, SENTNE: S d's oe. SEENSTONE: S/lepeyd'$. le. Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear Cbme sleep, 0 sleep, the certain knot of peace, When thou wak'st, it's thy dear. The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe; SHAKSPEARE. The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, Th' indifferent judge between the high and Drawn with a team of little atomies low. Athwart men's noses, as they lie asleep. SIR P. SIDNEY. SHAKSPEARE. The noon of night is past, and gentle sleep, Bid them come forth, and hear me, Which friendly waits upon the labour'd hind, Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum, Flies from th' embraces of a monarch's arms; Till it cry, Sleep to death! The mind disturb'd denies the body rest. SHAKSPEARE. JOHN SLADE: Love and Duty. SLEEP. 49 Not sleep itself Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden fears, Is ever balmy; for the shadowy dream Break gentle sleep with misconceived doubt. Oft bears substantial woe. SPENSER. SMOLLETT: Regicide. Ev'ry sense the humour sweet embay'd, Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of And, slumbring soft, my heart did steal away. woe; SPENSER. "But'tis the happy that have call'd thee so. SOUTHEY: Curse of A ehazoa. In thee, oppressors soothe their angry brow; The murmuring wind, the moving leaves, In thee, th' oppress'd forget tyrannic pow'r; Lull'd him at length to sleep, In thee, With mingled lullabies of sight and sound. The wretch condemn'd is equal to his judge, SOUTHIEY: T/z'lTaba. And the sad lover to his cruel fair; Nay, all the shining glories men pursue, Before the ldore sat self-consuming Care, When thou art wanted, are but empty noise. Day and night keeping wary watch and ward, SIR R. STEELE: Lying Loveirs. For feare least Force or Fraud should unaware Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in When love so rumbles in his pate, no sleep gard; comes in his eyes. Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thether-ward SIR J. SUCKLING. Approche, albe his drowsy den were next; For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared: To ease her cares, the force of sleep she tries: Therefore his house is unto his annext; Still wakes her mind, though slumbers seal her Here Sleepe, there Richesse, and hel-gate them eyes. betwext. SPENSER. To sleep I give my powers away, Vital powers'gan wax both weak and wan, My will is bondsman to the dark; For want of food and sleep; which two upbear, I sit within a helmless bark, Like weighty pillars, this frail life of man. And with my heart I muse, and say: SPENSER. O heart, how fares it with thee now, The messenger approaching to him spake, That thou shouldst fail from thy desire, But his waste words return'd to him in vain: Who scarcely darest to inlquire, So sound he slept that naught might him awake. " What is it makes me beat so low?" SPENSER. TENNYSON: Zn Melleoriam, Watching to banish Care their enimy, Who oft is wont to trouble gentle sleepe. And every spirit's folded bloom And every spirit's folded bloom By them the sprite doth passe in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned Through all its intervital gloom deentoMope euscom, pIn some long trance should slumber on; deepe In drowsie fit he findes; of irothing he takes Ulnconscious of the sliding hour, keepe. Bare of the body, might it last, And more to lulle him in his slumber soft, And silent traces of the past A trickling streame from high rock tumbling Be all the colour of the flower: downe, So then were nothing lost to man; And ever-drizzling raine upon the loft, So that still garden of the souls Mixte with a murmuring winde, much like the In many a figured leaf enrolls sowne The total world since life began: Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne. No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, And love will last as pure and whole As still are wont t' annoy the walled towne, As when he loved me here in Time, Might there be heard; but careles Quiet lyes, And at the spiritual prime Wrapt in eternal silence, farre from enimyes. Rewaken with the dawning soul. SPENSER: Houtse of Sleepe. TENNYSON: Zn HMemoI-ialm 492 SIEEP. ~When in the down I sink my head, She sleeps: on either hand upswells Sleep, Death's twin-brother, times my breath; The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest. Sleep, Death's twin-brother, knows not Death, She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells Nor can I dream of thee as dead: A perfect form in perfect rest. TENNYSON: Sleepizzo- Beaztdy. I walk as ere I walk'd forlorn, When all our path was fresh with dew, The varying year with blade and sheaf And all the bugle-breezes blew Clothes and reclothes the happy plains; Reveillfe to the breaking morn. Here rests the sap within the leaf, TENNYSON: liZ leMoriam. Here stays the blood along the veins. Faint shadows, vapors lightly curl'd, Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace: Faint mnrmurs from the meadows come, Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, Like hints and echoes of the world While the stars burn, the moons increase, To spirits folded in the womb. And the great ages onward roll. TENNYSON: SleepSig- Palace. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet: The first fresh dawn then waked the gladden'd Nothing comes to thee new or strange. race Sleep, full of rest from head to feet; Of uncorrupted man, nor blush'c to see ~ie still, dryl dust, secure of change. The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam; TEINNYSON: Ta 7 S. For their light slumbers gently fumed away. THOMISON. How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, Was naught around but images of rest, With half-shut eyes ever to seem Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between, Falling asleep in a half-dream! And flowery beds that slumb'rous influence kest; To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, From poppies breathed, and banks of pleasant Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the green, height; Where never yet was creeping creature seen. To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Meantime, unnumber'd glittering streamlets Eating the lotos, day by day, play'd, Po watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And hurled everywhere their waters' sheen, And tender-curving lines of creamy spray; That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade, To lend our hearts and spirits wholly Though restless still themselves, a lulling mturTo the influence of mild-minded melancholy; mur made. To muse and brood and live again in memory, THOMSON: Castle of Izulolenzce. With those faces of our infancy Ye gods of quiet, and of sleep profound! Heap''d over weiath a Ilmounld of grass, Whose soft dominion o'er this castle sways, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of And all the widely-silent places round, brass! ass TENNYSON: Los-Etes. Forgive me, if my trembling pen displays TENNYSON: Iotos-Eafei-s. What never yet was sung in mortal lays. And Sleep must lie down arm'd, for the villanous TH-OMSON: Castle ofilzdoleelzce. centre-bits Grinrd on the xwakeful ear in the hush of t~he Is there aught in sleep can charm the wise? m-oonless 1nights, To lie in dead oblivion, losing half The fleeting moments of too short a life; While another is cheating the sick of a few last The fleeting moments of too short a life; gasps, as he sits Fatal extinction of th' enlightenri'd soul! To pestle a poison'd poison behind his crimson else to fevering vanity alive, lightsilder'd, and tossing through distemper'd TENNYSON: Acd. dreams? Who would in such a gloomy state remain She sleeps: her breathings are not heard Longer than nature craves, when every muse In palace-chambers far apart. And every blooming pleasure wait without, The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd To bless the wildly devious morning walk? That lie upon her charmed heart. THOMSON: Seasons. SLEEP. -SMIES. 493 On bed Sleep's dewy wand Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies. Has stroked my drooping lids, and promises THOMSON. My long arrear of rest; the downy god Oh! thou best comforter of the sad heart, (Wont to return with our returning peace) When fortune's spite assails —come, gentle Will pay, ere long, and bless me with repose. sleep, YOUNG: Nigzht Tzougzts. sleep, The weary mourner soothe! For well the art From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose, Thou know'st in soft forgetfulness to steep I wake: how happy they that wake no more! The eyes which sorrow taught to watch and Yet that were vain, if dreams infect the grave. wreep: I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Let blissful visions now her spirit cheer, T umultuous. Or lull her cares to peace in slumbers deep. YOUNG: Night ThouZhits. MRS. TIGHE: Psyc/he. Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! And yet, as angels, in some brighter dreams, Tired nature's sweet restorer, almy sleep Call to the soul when maln doth sleep, He, like the world, his ready visit pays So some strange thoulghts transcend our wonted Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes, themes, Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And into glory And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. And into glory peep. YouNG: N li5t Thiougchts. HENRY VAUGHAN: Silex Scintilauns. No wonder sleep from careful lovers flies To bathe himself in Sacharissa's eyes; As fair Astrzea once fiom earth to heav'n SMILES. By strife and loud impiety was driv'n. WI\TTALLER. He smiled as men smile when they will not speak Because of something bitter in the thought; Oh that my spirit's eye could see And still I feel his melancholy eyes Whence burst those gleams of ecstasy. Look judgment on me. That light of dreaming soul appears MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Aroran Ieie,~z. To play from thoughts beyond thy years. Thou smilest, as if thy soul were soaring Full many a stoic eye and aspect stern To heaven, and heaven's God adoring! Mask hearts where grief hath little left to learn; And who can tell what visions high And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost, May bless an infant's sleeping eye! In smiles that least befit who wear them most. What brighter throne can brightness find BYRON: Corsair. To reign on than an infant's mind Ere siln destroy or errors dim I She blazons in dread smiles her hideous form; The glory of the Seraphim! So lightning gilds the unrelenting storm. PROF. JOHN WILSON: A Seezping ChilZ. GAkRTH. Swveet intercourse Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary's prayer, ~, though, dethsmaetmcuOf looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow, And, though death's image, to my couch repai To brute denied, and are of love the food. How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie, MILTON. And, without dying, 0 how sweet to die! WOLCOTT: EpigSram oil SleeJ. A smile that glow'ld Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue. Man's rich restorative; his balmy bath, Celestial rosy red, love's proper That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play The various movements of this nice machine, And though, perchance, a smile may gleam Which asks such frequent periods of repair. Of casual mirth, When tired with vain rotations of the day, It doth not own, whate'er it seem, Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn: An inward birth; Fresh we spin on, till sickness clogs our wheels, We miss thy small step on the stair; Or death quite breaks the spring, and motion We miss thee at thine evening prayer; ends. All day we miss thee, everywhere-Casa Wappv! YOUNG: N2ig/t Thoug6h[ts. DELTA (D. M. MOIR). 494 SMILES. -S 0 CIE TY -SOLDIERS. As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, Among unequals, what society While the tide runs in darkness and coldness Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? below, Which must be mutual, in proportion due So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny Given and received. smile, MILTON. Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the Though few the days, the happy evenings few, while. So warm with heart, so rich with mind, they MOORE. flew, Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, That my full soul forgot its wish to roam, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. And rested there, as in a dream at home! POPE. MOORE. Man, like the generous vine, supported lives: Each pleasing Blount shall endless smiles beThe strength he gains is from th' embrace he And soft Belinda's blush forever glow. gives. POPE. On their own axes as the planets ruln, Yet make at once their circle round the sun, Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains, So two consistent motions act the soul; And with one heav'nly smile o'erpay his pains? And one regards itself, and one the whole: PRIOR. Thus/God and nature link'd the general frame, And bade self-love and social be the same., A smile recures the wounding of a frown. POPE: Essay on an. SHAKSPEARE. Heaven forming each on other to depend, Those happiest smiles A master, or a servant, or a friend, That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know Bids each on other for assistance call, What guests were in her eyes, which parted Till one man's weakness grows the strength thence- of all. As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. Wants, fi-ailties, passions, closer still ally SHAKSPEARE. The common interest, or endear the tie. To these we owe true friendship, love sincere, Each home-felt joy that life inherits here. SOCIETY. POPE: Essay on M17an. Hail, social life! into thy pleasing bounds Society itself, mrhich should create Societitsel, souAgain I come to pay the common stock Kindness, destroys what little we had got: Kindness, destroy waMy share of service, and, in glad return, To feel for none is the true social art e,, d To taste thy comforts, thy protected joys. Of the world's stoics,-men without a heart. BYRON. THOMSON: Agamevnnon. Society is now one polish'd horde, Form'd of two mighty tribes, the bores and bored. BYRON. I'll animate the soldier's drooping courage WMan in society is like a fith love of freedom and contempt of life. Man in society is like a flow'r ADDISON: Cato. Blown in its native bud.'Tis there alone His faculties, expanded in full bloom, Enough of battle's minions! let them play Shine out; there onlyr reach their proper use. Their game of lives, and barter breath for fame: COWPER: Task. Fame that will scarce reanimate their clay, Though thousands fall to deck some single She who invites name. Her dear five hundred friends contemns them In sooth,'twere sad to thwart their noble aim all, Who strike, blest hirelings! for their country's And dreads their coming: they-what can they good, less?- And die, that living might have proved her With shrug and grimace hide their hate of her. shame. COWPER: T'ask. BYRON: Chi/a'e fHarold. SOLDIERS. 495 Be a good soldier, or upright trustee, Take to thee, from among the cherubim, An arbitrator from corruption free. Thy choice of flaming warriors. DRYDEN. MILTON. Nearer heav'n his virtues shone more bright, Captain, or colonel, or knight in arms, Like rising flames expanding in their height; Whose chance on these defenceless doors may The martyr's glory crown'd the soldier's fight. seize, DRYDEN. If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. The country rings aloud with loud alarms, MILTON. And raw in fields the rude militia swarms; Mouths without hands, maintain'd at vast Thus ever, when I buckle on my helmet, expense, Thy fears afflict thee. In peace a charge, in war a weak defence: JOHN PHILIPS. Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, When by impulse from heav'n Tyrtoeus sung, And ever, but in times of need, at hand. In drooping soldiers a new courage sprung. DRYDEN: Cymon and Ipigenia. ROscOMMON. The brave abroad fight for the wise at home: His death (whose spirit lent a fire You are but camp-chameleons, fed with air; Even to the dullest peasant in his camp), Thin fame is all the bravest hero's share. Being bruited once, took fire and heat away DRYDEN: aLiZg Art/zur. From the best temper'd courage in his troops: For from his metal was his party steel'd; The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, Which once in him abated, all the rest Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away; Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.'We'll see what cates you have, GOLDSMITH: Deserted Vil'lage. For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. Ours are no hirelings train'd to the fight, SHAKSPEARE. With cymbal and clarion glittering and bright; No prancing of chargers, no martial display, No war-trtump is heard from our silent array: Ev'n to Cato's wish; not fierce and terrible O'er the proud heads of freemen our star- Only in strokes. SHIAISPEARE. banner waves,Men firm as their mountains and still as their Then a soldier, graves; Full of strange oaths, and bearl ded like the pard; To-morrow shall pour out their life-blood like Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, rain;- Seeking the bubble reputation We come back in triumph, or come not again. Even in the cannon's mouth. THOMAS GRAY. SHAKSPEARE. I see them on their winding way, I see them on their winding way, Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, About their ranks the moonbeams play; About their ranks the moonbeams play; And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats, Their lofty deeds and daring high Blend Thewith the notes of victory; Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Blend with the notes of victory; Of healths five fathom deep. And waving arms and banners bright Are glancing in the mellow light. SHAKSPEARE, BISHOP HEBER. Dost thou not know the fate of soldiers? Gallant in strife, and noble in their ire, They're but ambition's tools, to cut a way The battle is their pastime. They go forth To her unlawful ends; and when they're worn, Gay in the morning, as to summer's sport: Hack'd, hewn with constant service, thrown When evening comes, the glory of the morn- aside, The youthful soldier-is a clod of clay. To rust in peace, and rot in hospitals. HOME: Doutglas. SOUTHERN: Loyal Brotiheis. 496 SOLITUDE. Some for hard masters, broken under arms, Tormented with a grief he could not know, In battle lopt away, with half their limbs, His, like all deep grief, plunged in solitude. Beg bitter bread through realms their valour BYRON. saved. None are so desolate but something dear, kYOUNG: NVzi<5rkt Thozo~jt0rs. Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd. BYRON: CliiZ(de far'ol;d. Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister, SOLITUDE. That I might all forget the human race, And, hating no one, love but only her! Sweet solitary life! lovely, dumb joy, BYRON: Clilde Hfarold. That need'st no warnings how to grow more wise In solitude, where we are least alone. By other men's mishaps, nor the annoy BYRON: Chi/de L-farold. Which from sore wrongs done to one's self There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, doth rise: I There is a rapture on the lonely shore, The morning's second mansion, truth's first There is society where none intrudes, firiend, ~fri-~~ienld, ~By the deep sea, and music in its roar: Never acquainted with the world's vain broils, I love not an the less, but nature more, When the whole day to our own use we spend, From these our interviews, in which I steal And our dear time no fierce ambition spoils. From all I may be, or have been before, Most happy state, that never tak'st revenge To mingle with the universe, and feel For injuries received, nor dost fear For injuries received, nor dust fea What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all con. The court's great earthquake, the grieved truth ceal. of change, BYRON: Chzilde Hfarold. Nor none of falsehood's savoury lies dostIf solitude succeed to grief, hear; Release from pain is slight relief; Nor knows hope's sweet disease that charms The vacant bosom's wilderness our sense, Might thank the pain that made it less. Nor its sad cure-dear-bought experience! Ve loathe what none are left to shale; Sonn EARL OF AN cSlROMaiyLi:fe. E'en bliss'twere woe alone to bear:.Sonznet 2in Priaise of a Soitary Lift. The heart once left thus desolate Must fly at last, for ease, to hate. I mind me in the days departed BYRON: Giaour. How often underneath the sun With childish bounds I used to run Sorrow preys upon To a garden long deserted. Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it From its sad visions of the other world The beds and walks were vanish'd quite; Than calling it at moments back to this. And wheresoe'er had struck the spade, The busy have no time for teals. The greenest grasses Nature laid BYRON: Tzwo ]Foscari. To sanctify her right. Oh! solitude! first state of human kind! I call'd the place my wilderness; Which bless'd remain'd till man did find For no one enter'd there but I. Ev'n his own helper's company: The sheep look'd in, the grass to espy, As soon as two, alas! together join'd, And pass'd it ne'ertheless. The serpent made up three. MRS. E. 13. BROWNING: Desertfed Garden. Ah! wretched and too solitary he Perhaps there's nothing-I'll not say appalls, Wlho loves not his own company! But saddens more, by night as well as day, He'll feel the weight of it many a day, Than an enormous room without a soul Unless he calls in sin or vanity To break the lifeless splendour of the whole. To help to bear it away. BYRON. COWLEY. SOLITUDE. 497 Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness- But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, Some boundless contiguity of space, And well my life shall pay: Where rumor of oppression and deceit I'll seek the solitude he sought, Might never reach me more! My ear is pain'd, And stretch me where he lay. My soul is sick, with every day's report GOLDSMITH. Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill'd. O Solitude, romantic maid! COWPER. Whether by nodding towers you tread, Or haunt the desert's trackless gloom, O solitude! where are the charms Or hover o'er the yawning tomb, That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or by the Nile's coy source abide, Than reign in this horrible place.y the Nile's coy source a, I am out of humanity's reach, Or, starting from your half-year's sleep, From Hecla view the thawing deep, I must finish my journey alone; Or, at the purple dawn of day, Never hear the sweet music of speech:,, Tadmor's marble wastes survey, I start at the sound of my own.e wastes survey, COWPER. I You, recluse, again I woo, And again your steps pursue. For solitude, however some may rave, GRAINGER: Ode to Solitude. Seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, A sepulchre in which the living lie, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, Where all good qualities grow sick and die. His listless length at noontide would he stretch,, I praise the Frenchman; his remark was shrewd: And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! GRAY: Elegy. But grant me still a friend in my retreat, The thought, Whom I may whisper,'Solitude is sweet!' The deadly feel of solitude. KEATS. COWPER. There oft is found an avarice in grief; Thrice happy he who by some shady grove, And the wan eye of sorrow loves to gaze Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own; Upon its secret hoard of treasured woes Tho' solitary, who is not alone, In pining solitude. But doth converse with that eternal love. MASON: Elf-ida. O how more sweet is bird's harmonious moan, Or the hoarse sobbings of the widow'd dove, g I In solitude live savage; in some glade Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's Ohscured, where hhest wods, impenetra Obscured, where highest woods, impenetrable Whicthrone, doubtful, do the evil approve! To star or sunlight, spread their umbrage broad,. Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve A And brown as evening! O how more sweet is Zephyr's wholesome breath, MILTON. And sighs embalm'd, which new-born flowers unfold, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, unfold, Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love, Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath Uninterrupted joy, unrivald love, How sweet are streams to poisoi drank in gold In blissful solitude. MILTON. The world is full of horror, troubles, slights: Woods' harmless shades have only true delights. In solitude WILLIAM DRUMMOND: What happiness? Who can enjoy alone? Praise of a Solitary Life. Or, all enjoying, what contentment find? MILTON. In solitary groves he makes his moan, Solitude is sometimes best society, Nor, mix'd in mirth, in youthful pleasure shares, And short retirement urges sweet return. But sighs when songs and instruments he hears. MILTON. DRYDEN. Thou in thy secrecy although alone, Some solitary cloister will I choose, Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not And there with holy virgins live immured. Social communication. DRYDEN. MILTON. 32 498 SOLITUDE. Wisdom's self No:'tis not here that solitude is known; Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude: Through the wide world he only is alone She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her Who lives not for another. wings, ROGERS: Humran Life. That in the various bustle of resort How use doth breed a habit in a man! Were all too ruffled. MILTON. The shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, I better brook than flourishing peopled towns: I sat me down to watch upon a bank There I can sit alone, unseen of any, With ivy canopied, and interwove With ivy caopied, and interwove And to the nightingale's complaining notes With flaunting honeysuckle, and began, Tune my distresses and record my woes. Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy, SHAKSPEARE. To meditate my rural minstrelsy, Till fancy had her fill. Life and thought have gone away, MILTON. Side by side, Leaving door and windows wide: The silent heart which grief assails Careless tenants they! Treads soft and lonesome o'er the vales, Careless tenants they! Sees daisies open, rivers run, All within is dark as night: And seeks (as I have vainly done) In the window is no light, Amusing thought, but learns to know And no murmur at the door, That solitude's the nurse of woe. So frequent on its hinge hefore. PARNELL. Close the door, the shutters close, Far in a wild, unknown to public view, Or through the windows we shall see From youth to age a reverend hermit grew; The nakedness and vacancy The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, Of the dark, deserted house. His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: TENNYSON: Deserted H.ouse.. Remote firom men, with God he pass'd his days; All day within the dreamy house Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. All day withii the dreamy house PARNELL: Hermit. The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung i' the pane; the mouse Bear me, some god! oh, quickly bear me hence Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, To wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense, Or from the crevice peep'd about; Where contemplation plumes her ruffled wings, Old faces glimmer'd through the doors, And the free soul looks down to pity kings. Old footsteps trod the upper floors, POPE. Old voices call'd her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, Thoughts which at Hyde-park corner I forgot, He cometh not, she said Meet and rejoin me in the pensive grot. She said, "I am aweary, aeary, POPE. ~She said, "1I am aweary, aweary,;~OPE. I would that I were dead!" Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, TENNYSON: lJarianba. Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Unhappy he! who from the first of joys, Tell where I lie. Society, cut off, is left alone POPE. Amid this world of death. THOMSON. Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, In my cheerful morn of life, In my cheerful morn of life, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, When nursed by careless solitude I lived, When nursed by careless solitude I lived, Deepens the murmurs of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods. And sung of nature with unceasing joy, Pleased have I wander'd through your rough POPE. POPE. dominion. THOMSON. What can thy imagery of sorrow mean? THOMSON. Secluded from the world and all its care, I solitary court Hast thou to grieve or joy, to hope or fear? The inspiring breeze. PRIOR. THOMSON. S OLITUDE. -S ONG. 499 Then horrid silence follow'd, broke alone O sacred solitude! divine retreat! By the low murmurs of the restless deep, Choice of the prudent! envy of the great! Mixt with the doubtful breeze, that now and then By the pure stream, or in the waving shade, Sigh'd through the mournful woods. We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid. THOMSON: Agamemnon. YOUNG: Love of fzme. Thus solitary, and in pensive guise, Courts can give nothing to the wise and good, Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead, But scorn of pomp, and love of solitude. And through the sadden'd grove, where scarce is YOUNG: Love of amine. heard heard! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, One dying strain to cheer the woodman's toil. Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! THOMSON: Seasons. Who thinks it solitude to be alone. Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd, YOUNG: Nzilt Thonzg/,-ts. And lost in lonely musing, in the dream Confused of careless solitude, where mix Ten thousand wand'ring images of things, SONG. Soothe every gust of passion into peace; All but the swelling of the soften'd heart, At ev'ry close she made, th' attending throng Replied, and bore the burden of the song. That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. eplied, and ore the burden of the song DRYDEN. THOMSON: Seasons. Cits and citesses, raise a joyful strain; For him who lonely loves'Tis a good omen to begin a reign. To seek the distant hills, and there converse DRYDEN. With nature. THOMSON: Summer. Heav'n heard his song, and hasten'd his relief, And changed to snowy plumes his hoary hair, Along these lovely regions, where, retired And wingd his flight, to chant aloft in air. From little scenes of art, great nature dwells DRYDEN. In awful solitude, and naught is seen But the wild herds that own no master's stall, Thy songs are sweeter to mine ear, Prodigious rivers roll their fatt'ning seas Than to the thirsty cattle, On whose luxuriant herbage, half conceal'd, Or winter porridge to the lab'rin youth, Like a fall'n cedar, far diffused his train, bus and sugar to the damsel's tooth. Cased in green scales, the crocodile extends. GAY. THOMSON: Szmmer. Confed'rate in the cheat, they draw the throng, And cambric handkerchiefs reward the song. Hail, mildly pleasing Solitude, GAY. Companion of the wise and good; But from whose holy piercing eye Still govern thou my song, The herd of fools and villains fly. Urania, and fit audience find, though few. MILTON. Oh! how I love with thee to walk, Anrd listen to thy whisper'd talk, He, with his soft pipe, and smooth dittied song, Which innocence and truth imparts, Well knows to still the wild winds when they And melts the most obdurate hearts! roar. THOMSON: Hfymnl onz Soliatude. 0 woods, 0 fountains, hillocks, dales, and Tell me the path, swreet wanderer, tell, bo'rs bow'rs! To thy unknown, sequester'd cell; To thy unknown, sequester cell; With other echo late I taughlt your shade Where woodbines cluster round the door, To answer, and resound far other son To answer, and resound far other song! Where shells and moss o'erlay the floor; MILTON. And on whose top a hawthorn blows, Amid whose thickly-woven boughs Thyrsis? whose artful strains have oft delay'd Some nightingale still builds her nest, The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, Each evening warbling thee to rest. And sweeten'dc every musk-rose of the dale. JOSEPH WARTON: Abode of Fancy. MILTON. 500 SONG. -SORR OOW Names memorable long, Why then dost treat me with rebukes, instead If there be force in virtue or in song. Of kind condoling cares and friendly sorrow? POPE. ADDISON. The song too daring, and the theme too great. All are not taken: there are left behind PRIOR. Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, And make the daylight still a happy thing, Raise her notes to that sublime degree And tender voices, to make soft the wind. BWhich suits a song of piety an thee. ut if it were not so-if I could find No love in all the world for comforting, Each morn they waked me with a sprightly lay: Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Of opening heav'n they sung, and gladsome day. Where "dust to dust" the love from life disPRIOR. j oin'd, And if, before those sepulchres unmoving, Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb That old and antique song, we heard last night. Goes bleating up the moors, in weary dearth), SHARKSPEARE. Crying, "Where are ye, 0 my loved and I heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, loving?" Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, I know a voice would sound, " Daughter, I AM. That the rude sea grew civil at her song. Can I suffice for HEAVEN, and not for earth?" SHAKSPEARE. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: CoonsoZtioizn. "There is no God," the foolish saith, A plaining song plain-singing voice requires; There is no sorrow;" For warbling notes from inward cheering flow., SIR P. SIDNEY. And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow: Of singing thou hast got the reputation, Eyes which the preacher could not school, Good Thyrsis, mine I yield to thy ability; By wayside graves are raised, My heart doth seek another estimation. And lips say, " God be pitiful!" SIR P. SIDNEY. Who ne'er said, "God be praised!" He, like a copious river, pour'd his song Be pitiful, O God O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Ciy ofihe Huazan. THOMSON. My life is not dated by years,There are moments which act as a plough, Lend me your song, ye nightingales: O pour As.~.~~ ~Anid there is not a furrow appears The mazy-running soul of melody But is deep in my soul as my brow. Into my varied verse! BYRON. THOMSON. The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown; Caln malke that song which was but rhyme. No traveller ever reach'd that blest abode WALLER. Who found not thorns and briers in his road. I9 iCOWPER. SORROVW. Man is a child of sorrow, and this world In which we breathe, hath cares enough to Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh? plague us; My father's name brings tears into my eyes. But it hath means withal to soothe those cares; ADDISON, And he who meditates on others' woes Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes? Shall in that meditation lose his own. And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm CUMBERLAND: Timzocies. To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows? Know, he that ADDISON. Foretells his own calamity, and makes Let us not aggravate our sorrows, Events before they come, twice over doth But to the gods permit th' event of things. Endure the pains of evil destiny. ADDISON. SIR W. DAVENANT: Distresses. SORRO W. 50I -Since, in dark sorrow I my days did spend, You saw but sorrow in its waning form, I could not silence my complaints. A working sea remaining from a storm; SIR J. DENHAM. When the now weary waves roll o'er the deep, And faintly murmur ere they fall asleep. Why should we DRYDEN. Anticipate our sorrows?'tis like those That die for fear of death. To each his sufferings: all are men, SIR J. DENHAM. Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Grief conceal'd, like hidden fire, consumes; The unfeeling for his own. Which, flaming out, would call in help to que z~~~nch~ it. p ~GRAY: Eton College. quench it. SIR J. DENHAM: Sophy. Whole years of joy glide unperceived away, Alas! I have not words to tell my grief; While sorrow counts the minutes as they pass. To vent my sorrow would be some relief; HAVARD: Sca9derbeg. Light sufferings give us leisiure to complain;orrow dogging sin, We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain. Afflictions sorted. DRYDEN. GEORGE HERBERT, My loss is such as cannot be repair'd; True earnest sorrows, rooted miseries, And to the wretched, life caln be no mercy. Anguish in grain, vexations ripe and blown, Sure-footed griefs, solid calamities. With shame and sorrow fill'd: GEORGE HERBERT. Shame for his folly; sorrow out of time Sorrow more beautiful than beauty's self. For plotting an unprofitable crime. KEATS: Hyperion. DRYDEN. What besides Dry mourning will decay more deadly bring, Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair, As a north wind burns a too forward spring; Our frailty can sustain thy tidings bring. Give sorrow vent, and let the sluices go. MILTON. DRYDEN. WITith tears Some other hour I will to tears allow, h ou o, Wat'ring the ground, and with our sighs the air But, having you, can show no sorrow now. DRYDEN. Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. When graceful sorrow in her pomp appears, MILTON. Sure she is dress'd in Melefinda's tears; No light but rather darkness visible Your head reclined, as hiding grief from view, Served only to discover sights of woe, Droops like a rose surcharged with morning dew. Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace DRYDEN. And rest can never dwell. O that I could but weep, to vent my passion-! MILTON. But this dry sorrow burns up all my tears. One fatal remembrance, one sorrow which throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our iwoes: Of crowds afraid, yet anxious when alone, To which life nothing darker or brighter can You'll sit and brood your sorrows on a throne. bring, DRYDEN. For which joy has no balm, and affliction no sting! Those clouds that overcast our morn shall fly, MOORE. Dispell'd to farthest corners of the sky. DRYDEN. 0 Thou who driest the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, Mute solemn sorrow, free from female noise, If, when deceived and wounded here, Such as the majesty of grief destroys. We could not fly to thee! DRYDEN. MOORE. 502 SORRO W. Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your We sicken soon from her contagious care, anguish: Grieve for her sorrows, groan for her despair. Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. PRIOR. MOORE. Nearer care supplies Has sorrow thy young days shaded, Sighs to my breast, and sorrow to my eyes. As clouds o'er the morning fleet? PRIOR. Too fast have those young days faded, Too fast have those young days faded, Here tell me, if thou dar'st, my conscious soul, That, ev'n in sorrow, were sweet? That, ev'n in sorrow,.were sweet? What different sorrows did within thee roll. Does Time with his cold wing wither PRIOR. Each feeling that once was dear?Then, child of misfortune, come hither, Do not cheat thy Heart, and tell her, I'll weep with thee, tear for tear. " Grief will pass away, MOORE: Hope for fairer times in future, Has Sorrozw liy Yozno Days Shaded? And forget to-day." Tell her, if you will, that sorrow In joy and in sorrow, through praise and through Need not come in vain; blame, Tell her that the lesson taught her Thus still let me, living and dying the same, Far outweighs the pain. In thy service bloom and decay,- ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Friend SorroW. Like some lone altar, whose votive flame In holiness wasteth away. Do not look at life's long sorrow; MOORE: 0/h, Teach -Ae to Love Thee. See how small each moment's pain; God will help thee for to-morrow: I am as dull as solemn sorrow ought to be; So each day hegin again. Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: FriendSorrow. end. OTWAY: CainYs Harm~ius. A Sorrow, wet with early tears, Yet bitter, had been long with me; Ulysses veil'd his pensive head; I wearied of this weight of years, Again unmann'd, a shower of sorrows shed. And would be free. POPE. I tore my Sorrow fiom my heart, To him experienced Nestor thus rejoin'd: I cast it far away in scorn; O friend i what sorrows dost thou bring to mind! Right joyful that we two could part, POPE. Yet most forlorn. The hoary fool, who many days The hoary fool, who many days I sought (to take my Sorrow's place) Has struggled with continual sorrow, Over the world for flower or gem; Renews his hope, and blindly lays But she had had an ancient grace The desp'rate bet upon to-morrow. Unknown to them. PRIOR. I took once more with strange delight Who breathes, must suffer; and who thinks, My slighted Sorrow; proudly now must mourn; I wear it, set with stars of light, And he alone is bless'd who ne'er was born. Upon my brow. PRIOR. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: A C'owozu of Sorrowozv But is no rank, no station, no degree, From this contagious taint of sorrow free? What memory of past sorrow, PRIOR. What stab of present pain, Brought that deep look of anguish, Free and familiar with misfortune grow, That watch'd the dismal rain,Be used to sorrow, and inured to woe. That watc'd (ith the absent spirit PRIOR. That looks, yet does not see) Will he for sacrifice our sorrows ease? The dead and leafless branches And can our tears reverse his firm decrees? Upon the Judas-Tree? PRIOR. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Wayside 2inzn. SORRO W. 503 Till now thy soul has been Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, All glad and gay:. Hath raised me from my bed; nor doth the Bid it awake, and look general care At grief to-day! Take hold on me: for my particular grief Engluts and swallows other sorrows. No shade has come between SHAKSPEARE. Thee and the sun; Like some long childish dream What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your Thy life has run: brows; 1But now the stream has reach'd Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it A dark, deep sea, And Sorrow, dim and crown'd, SHAKSEAE. SHAKSPEARE. Is waiting thee. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: A, Filrst Sorrow. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions! Half my life is full of sorrow, SHAKSPEARE. Half of joy, still fresh and new; of, si fran Why should calamity be full of words? One of these lives is a fancy, Onf thesher lve is a, Windy attornies to their client woes, But the other one is true. Poor breathing orators of miseries. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: ZDrealnz-_fe. o SHAKSPEARE. The good are better made by ill: To weep with them that weep, doth ease some As odours crush'd are sweeter still!deal ROGERS: ncacgZqieizne. But sorrow flouted at is double death. Her streaming eyes bent ever on the earth, SHAKSPEARE. Except when in some bitter pang of sorrow Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, To heav'n she seem'd in fervent zeal to raise,, And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. And beg that mercy man denied her here. SHAKSPEARE. ROWE: yane Shore. What and if I droop, with struggling spent; His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits, My thoughts are on my sorrows bent. Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks, SANDYS. I His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness? SHAKSPEARE. Come weep with me: past hope, past care, past help!'Tis better to be lowly born, SHAKSPEARE. And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, Which show like grief itself, but are not so: And wear a golden sorrow. SHAKSPEARE. For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: SHAKSPEARE. If you do sorrow at my grief in love, By giving love, your sorrow and my grief Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours, Were both extermined. Makes the night morning, and the noontide SHAKSPEARE. night. igSHASPEARE. Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me To this submission. Sorrow and grief of heart SHAKSPEARE. Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man. Joy being altogether wanting, SHAKSPEARE. It doth remember me the more of sorrow. SHAKSPEARE. Mischance and sorrow go along with you! PEARE. Heart's discontent and sour affliction A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Be playfellows to keep you company! If unprevented, to your timeless grave. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEA RE. 504 SORR O z. Give me that glass, and therein will I read: For what can breed more peevish incongruities No deeper wrinkles yet! Hath sorrow struck Than man to yield to female lamentations? So many blows upon this face of mine, SIR P. SIDNEY. And made no deeper wounds? SHAKSPEARE. Tempestuous fortune hath spent all her spight, Gloster's show And thrilling sorrow thrown his utmost dart. Beguiles him; as the mournful crocodile SPENSER. With sorrow snares relenting passengers. What world's delight, or joy of living speech, SHAKSPEARE. Can heart so plunged in sea of sorrows deep, I see your brows are full of discontent, And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE. When I awoke and found her place devoid, Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophesy And not but pressed grass where she had lyen, Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend; I sorrow'd all so much as erst I joy'd. It shall be waited on with jealousy, SPENSER. Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end; Ne'er settled equally, but high or low: Young mother! what can feeble fi-iendship say That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe. To soothe the anguish of this mournful day? SHAKSPEARE. They, they alone, whose hearts like thine have bled, The incessant weeping of my wife, The incessant weepings of mye wifet babes, Know how the living sorrow for the dead: rAnced piteou s pleadings of tihe pretty babe Each tutor'd voice that seeks such grief to cheer Forced me to seek delays. SHAI(SPEARE. Strikes cold upon the weeping parent's ear; I've felt it all-alas! too well I know There's matter in these sighs; these profound How vain all earthly power to hush thy woe! heaves CHARLES SPRAGUE: You must translate;'tis fit we understand them. Lines to a Yozung- ilotZier. SHAKSPEARE. There are a thousand joyous things in life, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrowv Which pass unheeded in a life of joy, As is so spoke, she never wvill a Edmit me. As thine hath been, till breezy sorrow comes To.ruffle it; and daily duties, paid Be sad, good brothers; Hardly at first, at length will bring repose Sorrow so royally in you appears, To the sad mind that studies to perform them. That I will deeply put the fashion on. TALFOURD. SHAKSPEARE. Never morning wore False sorrow's eye, To evening, but some heart did break. Which for things true weeps things imaginary. TENNYSON, SHAKSPEARE. 0O Sorrow, cruel fellowship! It easeth some, though none it ever cured, O Priestess in the vaults of Death To think their sorrows others have endured. O sweet and bitter in a breath, SHAKSPEARE. What whispers from thy lying lip? TENNYSON: _nz Me.elzoriam. For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light. 0 Sorrow, wilt thou live with me, SHAKSPEARE. NO casual mistress, but a wife, My bosom-firiend and help of life, What greater ills have the heavens in store, As I confess it needs must be; To couple coming harms with sorrow past? SIR P. SIDNEY. 0 Sorrow, wilt thou rule my blood, Thus is our thought with pain of thistle till'd, Be sometimes lovely like a bride, Thus be our noblest parts dried up with sorrow, And put thy harsher moods aside, Thus is our mind with too much minding spill'd. If thou wilt have me wise and good. SIR P. SIDNEY. TENNYSON: IZn MeMnzou'iaZ. S ORR 0 W. —S 0 UZ. 505 If life be heavy on your hands, Sorrows are lost in vast delight Are there no beggars at your gate, That brightens all the soul; Nor any poor about your lands? As deluges of dawning light Oh, teach the orphan boy to read, O'erwhelm the dusky pole. Or teach the orphan girl to sew; Pleasures in long succession reign, Pray Heaven for a human heart, Pray Heaven for a human heart, And all my pow'rs employ; And let your selfish sorrow go. Friendship but shifts the pleasing scene, TENNYSON. And fresh repeats the joy. Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, Past sorrows, let us mod'rately lament them; While all things else have rest from weariness? For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them. All things have rest: why should we toil alone? WEBSTER: Duchess of l/fidfy. We only toil, who are the first of things, Never to blend our pleasure, or our pride, And make perpetual moan, With sorrow of the meanest thing that lives. Still from one sorrow to another thrown: WORDSWORTH. Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Oh! the tender ties, Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm; Close twisted with the fibres of the heart! Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings, Which, broken, break them, and drain off the "There is no joy but calm!" soul Why should we only toil, the roof and crown Of human joy, and make it pain to live. of things? YOUNG. TENNYSON: Lotos-Ecters. Hence aching bosoms wear a visage gay, And stifled groans frequent the ball and play. Sweet source of virtue, YOUNG. O sacred sorrow! he who knows not thee Knows not the best emotions of the heart,- A tender smile, our sorrow's only balm. Those tender tears that harmonize the soul, YOUNG. The sigh that charms, the pang that gives Alas! misfortunes travel in a train, delight. elight. THOMSON: Ameno And oft in life form one perpetual chain; THOMSON: Aigvaemnzlonz. Fear buries fear, and ills on ills attend, Through all the air his sounding strings dilate Sorrow, like that which touch'd our heartsYOUNG: Force of Rcligion. of late. The smoothest course of nature has its pains; WALLER. And truest friends, through error, wound our rest: May you be happy, and your sorrows past Without misfortunes, what calamities! Set off those joys I wish may ever last. Without misfortunes, wht clmities And what hostilities, without a foe! YOUNG: A7zgVht Thouzghs. Not from the dust my sorrows spring, Nor drops my comfort from the lower skies; SOUL Let all the baleful planets shed Their mingled curses on my head, It must be so! Plato, thou reason'st well: How vain their curses, if th' eternal King Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, Look through the clouds and bless me with his This longing after immortality? eyes! Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Creatures with all boasted sway Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Are but his slaves, and must obey; Back on herself, and startles at destruction? They wait his orders from above,'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us; And execute his word, the vengeance or the'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, love. And intimates eternity to man. DR. ISAAC WATTS: Divzine'ld,, glents. ADDISON: atCo. 506 SOUL. The soul, secure in her existence, smiles In bodies as in vessels full of leaks; At the drawn dagger, and defies'its point; Walking in veins, their narrow galleries, The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Shorter than walks of seamen on their decks. Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; SIR W. DAVENANT, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Philosopeler to t/ze Cz/-istian. Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The soul in all hath one intelligence; The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds! ADDISON: Cato. Though too much moisture in an infant's brain, Where dwells this sov'reign arbitrary soul, And too much dryness in an old man's sense, Which does the human animal control, Cannot the prints of outward things retain: Inform each part, and agitate the whole? Then doth the soul want work, and idle sit; SIR R. BLACKMORE. And this we childishness and dotage call. SIR J. DAVIES. With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right For why should we the busy soul believe, The music of my nature, day and night When boldly she concludes of that and this, With dream and thought and feeling inter- When of herself she can no judgment give, wound, Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what And inly answering all the senses round she is? With octaves of a mystic depth and height, SIR J. DAVIES. Which step out grandly to the infinite And thou, my soul, which turn'st with curious From the dark edges of the sensual ground! eye This song of soul I struggle to outbear To view the beams of thine own formi divine, Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole, Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly And tutter all myself into the air. NWhile thou art clouded with this flesh of mine. But if I did it,-as the thunder-roll SIR J. DAVIES. Breaks its own cloud, —my flesh would perish there, If she the body's nature did partake, Before that dread apocalypse of soul. Her strength would with the body's strength MRS. E. B. BROWNING: SOul's ElrOession. decay; But when the body's strongest sinews slake, I dwell amid the city, Then is the soul most active, quick, and gay. And hear the flow of souls in act and speech, SIR J. DAVIES. For pomp or trade, for merry-make or folly. For pomp or trade, for merry-make or folly. None are so gross as to contend for this, I hear the confluence and sum of each, That souls from bodies may traduced be; And that is melancholy!Between whose natures no proportion is, Thy voice is a complaint, 0 crowned city, When root and branch in nature still agree. The blue sky covering thee like God's great SIR J. DAVIES. pity. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Soutl's Toravelling. To these high pow'rs a storehouse doth pertain, Where they all arts and gen'ral reasons lay; Through her flesh methinks is seen NWhich in the soul, ev'n after death, remain, The brighter soul that dwells within; And no Lethean flood can wash away. And no Lethean flood can wash away. Our eyes the subtle covering pass, SIR J. DAVIES. And see the lily through its glass. COWLEY. Since then the soul works by herself alone, Our souls but like unhappy strangers come Springs not from sense, nor humours well From heav'n, their country, to this world's bad agreeing, coast; Her nature is peculiar, and her own: They land, then straight are backward bound She is a substance, and a perfect being. for home, SIR J. DAVIES. for home, And many are in storms of passion lost! Some think one gen'ral soul fills ev'ry brain, They long with danger sail through life's vext As the bright sun sheds light in ev'ry star. seas, SIR J. DAVIES. SOUL;. 507 Fair soul, since to the fairest body join'd In the body's prison so she lies, You give such lively life, such quick'ning As through the body's prison she must look, pow'r, Her divers powers of sense to exercise An influence of such celestial kind By gath'ring notes out of the world's great As keeps it still in youth's immortal flow'r. book. SIR J. DhVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. As the sharpest eye discerneth nought Heav'n waxeth old, and all the spheres above Except the sunbeams in the air do shine, Shall one day faint, and their swift motion So the best soul, with her reflecting thought, stay; Sees not herself without some light divine. And time itself, in time, shall cease to move; SIR J. DAVIES. But the soul still survives, and lives for aye. For when she sorts things present with things SIR J. DAVIES. past, When in heav'n she shall his essence see, And thereby things to come doth oft foresee, This is her sov'reign good, and perfect bliss: When she cloth doubt at first, and choose at last, Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finish'd be These acts her own, without her bodly, h e. Her joys are full, her motions rest in this. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. Perhaps for want of food the soul may pine: But that were strange, since all things bad As then the soul a substance hath alone and good, I Besides the body, in which she is confined, Since all God's creatures, mortal and divine, hath she not a body of her own, Since God himself, is her eternal food. But is a spirit, and immaterial mind. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. When in th' effects she doth the causes know, How can she love a foreign emperor, And seeing the stream, thinks where the Whom of great worth and pow'r she hears to spring doth rise; be, And seeing the branch, conceives the root be- If she be woo'd but by ambassador, low: Or but his letters or his pictures see? These things she views without the body's So while the virgin soul on earth doth stay, eyes. She woo'd and tempted is ten thousand ways SIR J. DAVIES. By those great pow'rs which on the earth bear We, that acquaint ourselves with ev'ry zone, sway,And pass the tropics, and behold each pole, The wisdom of the world, wealth, pleasure, When we come home are to ourselves unknown, praise. And unacquainted still with our own soul. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. Doubtless there is in man a nature found And when thou think'st of her eternity, Beside the senses, and above them far; Think not that death against her nature is; Though most men being in sensual pleasures Think it a birth: and when thou go'st to die, drown'd, Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to bliss. It seems their souls but in their senses are. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. Sense outside knows, the soul through all things To the soul time doth perfection give, sees; And adds fresh lustre to her beauty still, Sense, circumstance, she doth the substance And makes her in eternal youth to live, view. Like her which nectar to the gods doth fill. SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. The more she lives, the more she feeds on truth; One thinks the soul is air; another, fire; The more she feeds, her strength doth more Another, blood diffused about the heart; increase; Another saith, the elements conspire, And what is strength, but an effect in youth, And to her essence each doth give a part. Which if time nurse, how can it ever cease? SIR J. DAVIES. SIR J. DAVIES. 508 SOUL. Her only end is never-ending bliss, Who is sure he hath a soul, unless Which is the eternal face of God to see, It see and judge and follow worthiness, Who last of ends and first of causes is; And by deeds praise it? He who doth not this And to do this, she must eternal be. May lodge an innate soul, but'tis not his. SIR J. DAVIES. DONNE. From this desire, that main desire proceeds Though absent, present in desires they be; Which all men have surviving fame to gain, Our souls much further than our eyes can see. By tombs, by books, by memorable deeds: DRAYTON. For she that this desires doth still remain. SIR J. DAVIES. OOur souls, not yet prepared for upper light, Till doomsday wander in the shades of night: If then the soul another soul do malke,This only holiday of all the year Because her pow'r is kept within a bound, e privileged in sunshine may appea. She must some former stuff or matter take; DRYDEN. But in the soul there is no matter found. SIR J. DAVIES. The soul, pure fire, like ours, of equal force, But pent in flesh, must issue by discourse. When death's form appears, she feareth not DRYDEN. An utter quenching or extinguishment; She would be glad to meet with such a lot, He made us to his image all agree; That so she might all future ill prevent; That image is the soul, and that must be, SIR J. DAVIES. Or not the Maker's image, or be free. DRYDEN. Are they not senseless, then, that think the soul Nought but a fine perfection of the sense? Death only this mysterious truth unfolds, SIR J. DAVIES. The mighty soul how small a body holds. DRYDEN. Then is the soul from God? so pagans say, Which saw by nature's light her heavenly That, unrememb'ring of its former pain, kind; The soul may suffer mortal flesh again. Naming her kin to God, and God's bright ray, DRYDEN. A citizen of heaven, to earth confined. Th' ethereal vigour is in all the salme, And ev'ry soul is fill'd with equal flame. Our wit is given Almighty God to know; DRYDEN. Our will is given to love him being known; Can it be that souls sublime But God could not be known to us below Return to visit our terrestrial clime, But by his works, which through the sense are And that the gen'rous mind, released by death, shown. Can cover lazy limbs? So in our little world this soul of ours, DRYDEN. Being only one, and to our body tied, Doth use on divers objects divers powers, Once more the fleeting soul came back, And so are her effects diversified. T' inspire the mortal frame, SIR J. DAVIES. And in the body took a doubtful stand, Hov'ring like expiring flame, Again, how canll she but immortal be, Again, bo'casebti a. That mounts and falls by turns. When, with the motions of both will and wit, DRYDEN. She still aspireth to eternity, And never rests till she attain to it? They are happy when SIR J. DAVIES. No speck is left of their habitual stains, But the pure ether of the soul remains. The slow-paced soul, which late did cleave DRYDEN. T' a body, and went but by the body's leave, Twenty perchance or thirty mile a day, Time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain, Despatches in a minute all the way The body, not the mind; nor can control'Twixt heav'n and earth. Th' immortal vigour, or abate the soul. DONNE. DRYDEN. SOUL;. 509 O souls in whom no heav'nly fire is found, Soul, dwelling oft in God's infinitude, Fat minds, and ever grov'ling on the ground. And sometimes seeming no more part of meDRYDEN. This me, worms' heritage-than that sun can be Yours is a soul irregularly great, Part of the earth he has with warmth imbued,Which, wanting temper, yet abounds with heat. Whence camest thou? Whither goest thou? I, DRYDEN. subdued With awe of mine own being, thus sit still, Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives; Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill, Like season'd timber, never gives; Whose dry November-grasses dew-bestrew'd But when the whole world turns to coal, then h e, Mirror a million suns. That sun, so bright, Then chiefly lives. GEORGE HERBERT. Passes, as thou must pass, Soul, into night! Art thou afraid, who solitary hast trod O mighty brother soul of man, O mgtbrtesoloma, A path I know not, from a source to a bourn Where'er thou art, in low or high, Both which I know not? fear'st thou to return Thy skyey arches with exulting span Alone, even as thou camest alone, to God? O'er-roof infinity! D. M. MULOCH Sonnets. D. M. MULOCH: Sonznets. All thoughts that mould the age begin Deep down wvithin the primitive soul, On their own axes as the planets run, Deep dowrn within the primitive soul, Yet make at once'their circle round the sun, And from the many slowly upward win So two consistent motions act the soul, To one who grasps the whole. And one regards itself, and one the whole. J. R. LOWELL. POPE. This attracts the soul, Governs the inner man, the nobler part; For when the fair in all their pride expire, That other -o'er the body only reigns. To their first elements the souls retire. POPE. MILTON. Unfold In some fair body, thus the secret soul What worlds, or what vast regions, hold With spirit feeds, with vigour fills the whole; Th' immortal mind that hath forsook Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve sustains, Her mansion in this fleshly nook! Itself unseen, but in th' effects remains. MILTON: I. Pense;roso. POPE. The soul on earth is an immortal guest, As in bodies, thus in souls, we find Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast; What wants in blood and' spirits, swell'd with A spark which upwards tends by nature's force; wind. POPE. A stream diverted from its parent source; A drop dissever'd from the boundless sea; He looks in heav'n with more than mortal eyes, A moment parted from eternity; Bids his free soul expatiate in the skies, A pilgrim panting for the rest to come; Amidst her kindred stars familiar roam, An exile anxious for his native home. Survey the region, and confess her home. HANNAH MORE. POPE. Even so the soul in this contracted state, The soul, immortal substance, to remain Confined to these strait instruments of sense, Conscious of joy, and capable of pain. More dull and narrowly doth operate: PRIOR. At this hole hears, the sight may ray from I think if thou couldst know, thence, O soul that wilt complain, Here tastes, there smells: but when she's gone What lies conceal'd below from hence, Our burden and our pain,Like naked lamp, she is one shining sphere, How just our anguish brings And round about hath perfect cognizance Nearer those long'd-for things Whatever in the horizon doth appear: We seek for now in vain,She is one orb of sense: all eye, all touch, all I think thou wouldst rejoice, and not complain. ear. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: HENRY MORE: PlatonicalSongz of Ze Soul. / If Thou Cou/dst _rAhow. 5 0 S OU U. L-SPIRITS. Pleasure enchants, impetuous rage transports, Fled from the eyes, she gains a piercing sight; And grief dejects and wrings the tortured soul. She dives into the infinite, ROSCOMMON. And sees unutterable things in that unknown abyss. Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, DR. ISAAC WATTS: abIyiCS. To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her Into the trunks of men. nature SHAKSPEARE. Of subtler essence than the trodden clod; For human weal, heaven husbands all events, Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, vain Can be retentive to the strength of spirit. YOUNG. SHAKSPEARE. The joys of sense to mental joys are mean; Those, with the fineness of their souls, Sense on the present only feeds; the soul By reason guide his execution. On past and present forages for joy; SHAKSPEARE.'Tis hers, by retrospect, through time to range, The delighted spirit And forward, time's great sequel to survey. To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside YOUNG: Nig-ht Thoznght/s. In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice. SHAKSPEARE. Ah, then, my hungry soule! which long hast fed SPIRITS. On idle fancies of thy foolish thought, All things are but unilter'd; nothing dies; And with false beautie's flattering bait misled And here and there th unbodied spirit flies. Hast after vaine deceitfull shadowes sought, DRYDEN. Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought With chalk I first describe a circle here, But late repentance through thy follies brief; Where those ethereal spirits must appear. Ah, cease to gaze on matter of thy grief, DRYDEN. And looke at last up to that soveraine light Spirits that live throughout, From whose pure beams al perfect beauty Vital in every part, not, as frail man, springs; In intrails, head, or heart, liver, or reins,That kindleth love in every godly spright, Cannot but by annihilating die. Even the love of God; which loathing brings MILTON. Of this vile world and those gay-seeming things; Spirits live insphered With whose sweet pleasures being so possest, In regions mild of calm and serene air. Thy straying henceforth shall forever rest. MILTON. SPENSER:,Hymn of Heavenly Beantie. For spirits when they please When nature ceases, thou shalt still remain, Can either sex assume, or both; so soft Nor second chaos bound thy endless reign; And uncompounded is their essence pure; Fate's tyrant laws thy happier lot shall brave, Not tied or manacled with joint or limb. Baffle destruction, and elude the grave. MILTON. TICKELL. All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, Retire, my soul, within thyself retire, All intellect, all sense; and as they please Away from sense and every outward showp: They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size Now let my thoughts to loftier themes aspire; Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. My knowledge now on wheels of fire MILTON. May mount and spread above, surveying all below." The spirits perverse With easy intercourse pass to and fro, The Lord grows lavish of his heavenly light, To tempt or punish mortals. And pours whole floods on such a mind as this: MILTON. SPIRITS. -SPLEENV. -SPRING. 5 For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease SPRING. Assume what sexes and what shapes they please. Sweet daughter of a rough and stormy sire, POPE:~ Rape of the Lock. Hoar Winter's blooming child, delightful Spring! Beware what spirit rages in your breast; Whose unshorn locks with leaves For ten inspired, ten thousand are possess'd. And swelling buds are crown'd; ROSCOMMON. From the green islands of eternal youth (Crown'd with fresh blooms and ever-springing At his warning shade), The extravagant and erring spirit hies Turn, hither turn thy step. To his confine. MRS.. BARBAULD: Ode to Spring. SHAKSPEARE. -Whither are they vanish'd? Thus on the chill Lapponian's dreary land, Whither are they vanish'd? For many a long month lost in snow profound, Into the ear, and what seem'd corporal When Sol from Cancer sends the seasons bland, Melted, as breath into the wind. And in their northern cave the storms hath SHAIKSPEARE. bound; Now is the time of night From silent mountains, straight, with startling That, the graves all gaping wide, sound, Every one lets forth his sprite, Torrents are hurl'd, green hills emerge, In the churchway paths to glide. and, lo, SHAKSPEARE. The trees with foliage, cliffs with flowers are crown'd; I think it is the weakness of mine eyes Ihat shapes thsodPure rills through vales of verdure warbling go, That shapes this wondrous apparition: It comes upon me.! HAKSAnd wonder, love, and joy, the peasant's heart It comes upon me! SHAKSPEARE. o'erflow. BEATTIE. Ne'er to these chambers, where the mighty rest, Since their foundation came a nobler guest; Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost Nor e'er was to the bow'rs of bliss convey'd Her snow-white robes, and now no more the A fairer spirit or more welcome shade. frost TICKELL. Candies the grass, or calls an icy cream Upon the silver lake or crystal stream; How must a spirit, late escaped from earth, But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth, The truth of things new blazing in its eye, And makes it tender; gives a second birth Look back, astonish'd, on the ways of men, To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree Whose lives' whole drift is to forget their graves. The drowsy cuckoo, and the humble-bee: YOUNG: VNz hzit Thouttlfts. Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring In triumph to the world, the youthful spring; < The valleys, hills, and woods, in rich array, Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May: SPLEEN. Now all things smile. THOMlAS CAREW. In noble minds some dregs remain, Not yet purged off, of spleen and sour disdain. The spring-scented buds all around me are POPE. swelling, Charge not in your spleen a noble person, There are songs in the stream, there is health And spoil your nobler soul. in the gale; SHAKSPEARE. A sense of delight in each bosom is dwelling, As float the pure day-beams o'er mountain Sickness and pains are quite forgot, and vale: The spleen itself is gone; The desolate reign of old Winter is broken, Plunged in your woes, I feel them not, The verdure is fresh upon every tree; Or feel them all in one. Of Nature's revival the charm-and a token Dr. ISAAC WATTS: Afjictiozns of a Friend. Of love, O thou Spirit of Beauty! to thee. 51 2 SPRING. The sun looketh forth from the halls of the Departing spring could only stay to shed morning, Her bloomy beauties on the genial bed, And flushes the clouds that begirt his career; But left the manly summer in her stead. He welcomes the gladness and glory returning DRYDEN. To rest on the promise and hope of the year. He fills with rich light all the balm-breathing Eternal spring, with smiling verdure, here flowers, Warms the mild air, and crowns the youthful He mounts to the zenith, and laughs on the year, wave; The tuberose ever breathes, and violets blow. He wakes into music the green forest-bowers, GARTH. And gilds the gay plains which the broad rivers lave. Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, WILLIs GAYLORD CLARK: A4 Songof Zfbly. And parting summer ling'ring blooms delay'd. WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK: X Solzfrof2Mats. GOLDSMITH: Deselrted iZaffge.'Tis a month before the month of May, I come, I come! ye have call'd me long; And the spring comes slowly up this way. COLERIDGE. I come o'er the mountains with light and song: Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, About the mossy brooks and springs, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,.And all inferior beauteous things. By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, COWLEY. By the green leaves opening as I pass. As where the -sun is present all the year, I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut And never doth retire his golden ray, flowers Needs must the spring be everlasting there, By thousands have burst from the forest-bowers; And every season like the month of May. And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes, SIR J. DAVIES. Are veil'd with wreaths on Italian plains. O ye Pegasian nymphs that, hating viler things, But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, Delight in lofty hills and in delicious springs To speak of the ruin or the tomb DRAYTON. MRS. HEMANS: Voice of Sprzng. When rising spring adorns the mead, Sweet spring! full of sweet days and roses, A charming scene of nature is display'd. A box where sweets compacted lie, DRYDEN. My music shows you have your closes, And all must die. The tender blades of grass appear; GEORGE HERBERT: The C/znrchz And buds, that yet the blast of Eurus fear, Stand at the door of life, and doubt to clothe Now Heaven seems one bright, rejoicing eye, the year. And Earth her sleeping vesture flings aside, DRYDEN. Anid with a blush awakes, as does a bride; And Nature speaks, like thee, in melody. Unbidden earth shall wreathing ivy bring, And Nature speaks, like thee, in melody. Ab of sr. The forest, sunward, glistens, green and high; And firaglrant herbs, the promises of spring. DRYDEN. The ground each moment, as some blossom springs, Ask not the cause why sullen spring Puts forth, as does thy cheek, a lovelier dye, So long delays her flow'rs to bear, And each new morning some new songster And winter storms invert the year. brings.. DRYDEN. And hark! the brooks their rocky prisons break, And echo calls on echo to awake, This gentle knight, inspired by jolly May, Like nymph to alls on echo to awake, Forsook his easy couch at early day. Like nymph to nymph. The air is rife with Forsook his easy couch at early day. wings DRYDEN. wings Rustling through wood or dripping over lake. Then summer, autumn, winter did appear; Herb, bud, and bird return-but not to me And spring was but a season of the year. With song or beauty, since they bring not thee. DRYDEN. GEORGE HILL: Sprilng. SPRING. 51 3 Gentle Spring, in sunshine clad, And the clouds come up with softer glow, Well dost thou thy power display! Up to the zenith blown, For Winter maketh the light heart sad, And float in pride o'er the earth below, And thou-thou makest the sad heart gay. Like banners o'er a throne. He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, Thou smiling Spring! —again thy praise The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the li rain~~~~~~, ~Is on the lip of streams; And the waterfalls loud anthems raise, And they shrink away, and they flee in fear, By day, and in their dreams; By day, and in their dreams; When thy merry step draws near. The lakes that glitter on the plain LONGFELLOW: froxy tame Frenc~. Sing with the stirring breeze; Else had the spring And the voice of welcome sounds again Perpetual smiled on earth, with vernant flow'rs, From the surge upon the seas. Equal in days and nights. J. O. ROCKWELL: Spring. MILTON. Springs through the pleasant meadows pour Along the crisped shades and bow'rs Revels the spruce and jocund spring. their rills, Which snake-like glide between the bordering MILTON. hills hills. Airs, vernal airs, SANDYS. Breathing the smell of. field and grove, attune To his music, plants and flowers The trembling leaves. The trembling leaves. Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. In that soft season when descending show'rs SHAKSPEARE. Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs; The spring, the summer, When opening buds salute the welcome day, The spring, the summer, And earth relenting feels the genial ray. The chiding autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries. SHAKSPEARE. Fain would my muse the flowing treasure sing, And humble glories of the youthful spring. So forth issew'd the seasons of the yeare: POPE. First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowres In the churchyard of that city' That freshly budded and new bloomes did beare, Rose a tomb of marble rare, In which a thousand birds had built their Deck'd, as soon as Spring awaken'd, bowres, With her buds and blossoms fair,- That sweetly sung to call forth paramours; An~d a humble grave beside it, - -And in his hand a iaelin he did beare, No one knew who rested there. And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures) ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Angel's Story. A gilt engraven morion he did weare; That as some did him love, so others did him Hark! the hours are softly calling, feare. Bidding Spring arise, SPENSER. To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies, And when the shining sun laugheth once, To listen to Earth's weary voices, You deemen the spring cometh at once; Louder every day, But eft, when you count you fieed from fear, Bidding her no longer linger Comes the breine winter, with chainfred brows, On her charmed way, Full of wrinkles, and frosty furrows. But hasten to her task of beauty SPENSER. Scarcely yet begun. The sweet season, that bud and bloom forth ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Spring. brings, brings, Thou gentle Spring!-the brooding sky With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale; Looks welcome all around; The nightingale with feathers new she sings; The moon looks down with a milder eye, The turtle to her mate hath told her tale: And the stars with joy abound; Summer is come, for every spray now springs: 33 514 SPRING.-S TARS. The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; There is a voice in the western breeze, The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; As it floats o'er Spring's round roses, The fishes fleet with new repaired scale; Or sighs among the blossoming trees The adder all her slough away she flings; Where the spirit of love reposes: The swift swallow pursueth the flies small; It tells of hopes unblighted yet, The busy bee her honey how she mings! And of hours the soul can ne'er forget. Winter is worn, that was the flowers' bale; KATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: And thus I see among these pleasant things Voice of the Seasons. Each care decays; and yet my sorrow springs. Spring tho fairest season of the year, 0 Spring, thou fairest season of the year, EARL OF SURREY: S fwinf. EARL OF URRY:. How lovely soft, how sweet dost thou appear! I dreamed there would be Spring no more, What pleasing landskips meet the gazing eye! That Nature's ancient power was lost:. How beauteous nature does with nature vie: The streets were black with smoke and fiost,Gay scenes around the fancy does invite, They chatter'd trifles at the door. And universal beauty prompts to write. TENNYSON: In Memoriam. But chiefly that proud Dome on Delaware's stream, In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the Of this my humble song the nobler theme, robin's breast; Claims all the tribute of these rural lays, In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself And tunes e'en my harsh voice to sing its praise. another crest; GEORGE WEBB: Batchelfor's Hall, a Poem. In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the'Tis spring-time on the eastern hills! burnish'd dove; Like torrents gush the summer rills; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns Through winter's moss and dry dead leaves to thoughts of love. The bladed grass revives and lives, TENNYSON: Iocksley Halz. Pushes the mouldering waste away,'Come, gentle spring, ethereal mildness, come, And glimpses to the April day. And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, In kindly shower and sunshine bud While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower The branches of the dull gray wood;,Of shadowy roses, on our plains descend. Out from its sunn'dl and shelter'd nooks THOMSON. The blue eye of the violet looks; The southwest wind is warmly blowing, Still let my song a nobler note assume, Andcl odors firom the springing grass, And sing th' infusive force of spring on man. The pine-tree and the sassafras, THOMSON. Are with it on its errands going. But why so fair excursive, when at hand WHITTIER: IMogg _Meg6one. Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace, Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first? THOMSON. STARS. Great spring before Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn,'Green'd all the year; and fruits and blossoms blush'd Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. In social sweetness on the self-same bough. ADDISON. THOMSON. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself L end me your' song, ye nightingales! Oh, pour LTen mazy-urunnng, su of le, p Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years. The mazy-running soul of melody ADDISON. Into my varied verse! while I deduce, From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, All shun the raging dog-star's sultry heat, The symphony of spring. And from the half-unpeopled town retreat. THOMSON. ADDISON. Spring does to flow'ry meadows bring By what elastic engines did she rear What the rude winter from them tore. The starry roof, and roll the orbs in air. WALLER. SIR R. BLACKMORE. STARS. 5 5 The stars, which grace the high expansion bright, The moon arose clad o'er in light, By their own beams, and unprecarious light, With thousand stars attending on her train; At a vast distance from each other lie. With her they rise, with her they set again. SIR R. BLACKMORE. COWLEY. Several lights will not be seen, Their number, counting those th' unaided eye If there be nothing else between Can see, or by invented tubes descry, Men doubt, because they stand so thick i' th' sky, The widest stretch of human thought exceeds. If those be stars that paint the galaxy. SIR R. BLACKMORE. COWLEY. The old and new astronomers in vain The stars, no longer overlaid with weight, Attempt the heav'nly motions to explain. Exert their heads from underneath the mass, SIR R. BLACKIMORE. And upward shoot, and kindle as they pass, The sad and solemn night And with diffusive light adorn their heav'nly Has yet her multitude of cheerful fires; place. DRYDEN. The glorious host of light Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires: Whether, adopted to some neighb'ring star, All through her silent watches, gliding slow, Thou roll'st above us in thy wand'ring race.; Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, Or, in procession fix'd and regular, and go. Mov'st with the heav'n's majestic pace; Day, too, hath many a star Or, call'd to more celestial bliss, To grace his gorgeous reign, as bright as they: Thou tread'st with seraphim the vast abyss. Through the blue fields afar, DRYDEN. Unseen, they follow in his flaming way: Before tempestuous wiigs arise, Many a bright lingerer, as the eve grows dim, Stars shooting through the darkness gild the Tells what a radiant troop arose and set with night him. With sweeping glories and long trails of light. WILLIAM C. BRYANT: DRYDEN. IH~yniz to t/he XNorth StGar. Fair Leda's twins, in time to stars decreed, Like the Chaldean, he could watch the stars One fought on foot, one curb'd the fiery steed. Till he had peopled them with beings bright DRYDEN. As their own beams.'Tis like the milky way, all over bright, BYRON: Chzilde Harold. But sown so thick with stars,'tis undistinguish'd Ye are light. DRYDEN. A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, A way there is in heav'n's expanded plain, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named Which, when the skies are clear, is seen below, themselves a star. And mortals by the name of milky know; LYRONN: Czilde Harold. The groundwork is of stars. DRYDEN. Despond not: v,; erefore wilt thou wander thus If thou kenst from far To add thy silence to the silent night, Among the Pleiades a new-kindled star; And lift thy tearful eye unto the stars? If any sparkles from the rest more bright, They cannot aid thee.'Tis she that shines in that propitious light. BYRON: Heaven and Earth.RYDEN. The sentinel stars set their watch in the sky. The rains arise, and fires their warmth dispense; CAMPBELL: Soldier's Dream. And fix'd and erring stars dispose their inAsk me no more, where those stars light fluenc. DRYEN. That downwards fall in dead of night: For in your eyes they sit, and there In fear of this, observe the starry signs, Fixed become, as in their sphere.'Where Saturn houses, and where Hermes joins. CAREW: Song. DRYDEN. 516 STARS. As when the stars in their ethereal race A star has left the kindling sky,At length have roll'd around the liquid space, A lovely northern light; From the same point of heav'n their course How many planets are on high! advance, But that has left the night. And move in measures of their former dance. L. E. LANDON. DRYDEN. Hark, the bell! it sounds midnight! all hail, Not Sirius shoots a fiercer flame, thou new heaven! When with his pois'nous breath he blasts the sky. How soft sleep the stars on their bosom of DRYDEN. night; No star appears to lend his friendly light; While o'er the full moon, as they gently are Darkness and tempest make a double night. driven, DRYDEN. Slowly floating, the clouds bathe their fleeces in light. Observe what stars arise or disappear, M. G. LEWIS. And the four quarters of the rolling year. Just above yon sandy bar, DRYDEN. As the day grows fainter and dimmer, Not far from hence, if I observed aright Lonely and lovely, a single star The southing of the stars and polar light, Lights the air with a dusky glimmer. Sicilia lies. Sicilia lies. Into the ocean faint and far DRYDEN. Falls the trail of its golden splendor, After show'rs And the gleam of that single star The stars shine smarter, and the moon adorns, Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender. As with unborrow'd beams, her sharpen'd horns. LONGFELLOW: Evening,Start DRYDEN. The night is come, but not too soon; The sun was set; and Vesper, to supply And, sinking silently, His absent beams, had lighted up the sky. All silently, the little,moon DRYDEN. Drops down behind the sky. They danced by starlight and the friendly moon. There is no light in earth or heaven, DRYDEN. But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given Ye lamps of heav'n, he said (and lifted high the first watch of night is given His hands, now free), thou venerable sky! To the red planet Mars. Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled! Is it the tender star of love? Inviolable pow'rs adored with dread, The star of love and dreams? Be all of you adjured. Oh, no! from that blue tent above, DRYDEN. A hero's armor gleams. Conquests he strew'd where'er he came, And earnest thoughts within me rise, Thick as the galaxy with stars is sown. When I behold afar, DRYDEN. Suspended in the evening skies, Ev'ry fix'd and ev'ry wand'ring star, The shield of that red star. The Pleids, Hyads, and the Northern Car. LONGFELLOW: Lzgit/t of Stars. DRYDEN. Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, The blessed minister his wings display'd, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, And, like a shooting star, he cleft the night. Like a fair lady at her casement, shines DRYDEN. The evening star, the star of love and rest; And then anon she doth herself divest Describe the stars and planetary way, Of all her radiant garments, and reclines And trace the footsteps of eternal day. Behind the sombre screen of yonder pines, GRANTVI LE. WVith slumber and soft dreams of love oppress'd Day hath put on his jacket, and around O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! His burning bosom button'd it with stars. My morning and my evening star of love! O. W. HOLMES: Evening, by a Tailor. My best and gentlest lady! even thus, STARS. 517 As that fair planet in the sky above, Brightest seraph tell Dost thou retire into thy rest at night, In which of all these orbs hath man And from thy darken'd window fades the light. His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, LONGFELLOW: Evening Star. But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell! MILTON. Stars of the summer night! Far in yon azure deeps, While the heav'in, by the sun's team untrod, Hide, hide your golden light! Hath took no print of the approaching light, She sleeps! And all the spangled host keep watch. My lady sleeps! MILTON. Sleeps! In the galaxy, that milky way LONGFELLOW: Spanish Stzudent. Which nightly, as a circling zone, thou see'st Powder'd with stars. Amplitude almost immense, with stars M1LTON. Numerous, and every star perhaps a world Of destined habitation. Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites, MILTON. Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. MILTON. They, as they move Their starry dance, in numbers that compute Mystical dance! which yonder starry sphere Days, months, and years, tow'rds his all-cheer- Of planets, and of fix'd, in all her wheels ing lamp Resembles nearest,-mazes intricate, Turn swift their various motions. Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular, MILTON. Then most, when most irregular they seem. MILTON. And now of love they treat, till th' evening star,.ove's.arbinger, appear~'d. Heav'n's youngest teamed star Love's harbinger, appear'd. MILTON. Hath fix'd her polish'd car, Her sleeping lord with handmaid lamp attendOft till the star that rose at evening bright ing. Towards heaven's descent had sloped his wester- ILTON. ing wheel. MILTON. He made the stars, And set them in the firmament of heav'n, So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, T' illuminate the earth and rule the night. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, MILTON. And tricks his beams, and with' new-spangled She shines, ore Fla ores in te forhed f te oringsly. Revolved on heav'n's great axle, and her reign With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, MILTON. With thousand thousand stars. How could nature on their orbs impose MILTON. Such restless revolution, day by day The star that bids the shepherd fold Repeated. Now the top of heav'n doth hold. MILTON. We, that are of purer fire, Imitate the starry quire, In part shed down Who in their nightly watchful spheres Their stellar virtue, on all kinds that grow Lead in swift rounds the months and years. On earth; made hereby apter to receive MILTON. Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. MILTON. Such vast room in nature unpossess'd By living soul, desert and desolate, By living soul, desert and desolate, Swift as a sparkle of a glancing star Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute I shoot from heav'n to give him safe convoy. Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far MILTON. Down to this habitable, which returns Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. If better thou belong not to the dawn. MILTON. MILTON. 51 8 STARS. Thou shalt not long The unsought diamonds Rule in the clouds; like an autumnal star, Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep, Or lightning, thou shalt fall. And so bestud with stars, that they below MILTON. Would grow inured to light. MILTON. He sow'd with stars the heav'n, thick as a field. Then appear'd MILTON. Spangling the hemisphere then first adorn'd A shooting star With their bright luminaries that set and rose. A shooting star In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours MILTON. fired Ye quenchless stars! so eloquently bright, Impress the air, and shows the mariner Untroubled sentries of the shadowy night, From what point of his compass to beware While half the world is lapp'd in downy dreams, Impetuous winds. And round the lattice creep your midnight beams, MILTON. How sweet to gaze upon your placid eyes, In lambent beauty looking fi-om the skies! Under the shady roof Of branching elm star-proof. MILTON.TGOMERY: T7,e Start7y 2reavens. Nor walk by moon Draw me no constellations there, Or glittering starlight, without thee, is sweet. Nor dog, nor goat, nor bull, nor bear; MILTON. Nor any of that monstrous fry And for the heavens wide circuit, let it speak Of animals that stock the sky. The Maker's high magnificence. OLDHAM. MILTON. Lo! the small stars, above the silver wave, The Pleiades before him danced, Come wandering up the sky, and kindly lave Shedding sweet influence. The thin clouds with their light, like floating MILTON. sparks The heav'ns and all the constellations rung. Of diamonds in the air; or spirit harks, MIIITON. With unseen riders, wheeling in the sky. ALBERT PIKE:./j'mZZ to Ce res. Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries Officious; but to thee, earth's habitant. Some, less refined, beneath the moon's pale MILTOINT. light Hover, and catch the shooting stars by night. A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, POPE. And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, Let earth unbalanced from her orbit fly, Seen in the galaxy. Seen n the galaxMILTON. Planets and suns run lawless through the sky. POPE. Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou, pale moon, Hele clearer stars glow round the frozen pole. Thatwont'st to love the traveller's benison, POPE. Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here Could he whose laws the rolling planets bind In double night of darkness, and of shades. Describe or fix one movement of the mind. MILTON. POPE. Ask of yonder argent fields above, An host Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove. Innumerable as the stars of night, POPE. Or stars of morning, dewdrops which the sun A sudden star it shot through liquid air, Impearls on ev'ry leaf and ev'ly flower. And drew behind a radiant trail of hair. MILTON. POPE. Unsafe within the wind Of those stars which our imperfect eye Of such commotion; such as, to set forth Has doom'd and fix'd to one eternal sky, Great things by small, if nature's concord broke, Each, by a native stock of honour great, Among the constellations war were sprung. May dart strong influence, and diffuse kind heat. MILTON. PRIOR. STARS. 519 Each sees his lamp with different lustre crown'd, But the day is spent, Each knows his course with different periods And stars are kindling in the firmament, bound; To us how silent-though, like ours, perchance, And, in his passage through the liquid space, Busy and full of life and circumstance. Nor hastens nor retards his neighbour's race. SAMUEL ROGERS: HIuman LQ/e. PRIOR. Stars of the many-spangled heaven! These great orbs thus radically bright, Faintly this night your beams are given, Though proudly where your hosts are driven Primitive founts, and origins of light, Ye rear your dazzling galaxy; Enliven worlds denied to human sight. Ye rar your dazzling galaxy; PO. Since far and wide a softer hue PRIOR. Is spread across the plains of blue, Where in bright chorus, ever true, Now shine these planets with substantial rays? Where in bright chorus, ever true, Does innate lustre gild their measured days? swells your harmony. ROBERT C. SANDS. PRIOR. Starry crowns of heaven, He fashion'd those harmonious orbs, that roll Set in azure night! In restless gyres about the arctic pole. Linger yet a little SANDYS. Ere you hide your light: — Nay; let starlight fade away, Look how the floor of heaven Heralding the day! Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Give Place. There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, Shine, ye stars of heaven, But in his motion like an angel sings; On a world of pain! Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. See old Time destroying SHAKSPEARE. All our hoarded grain; All our hoarded grain; What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty All our sweetest flowers, Every stately shrine, As those two eyes become that heavenly face! SHAKSPEARE. All our hard-earn'd glory, Every dream divine! I am as constant as the northern star; Of whose true, fix'd, and resting quality Shine, ye stars of heaven, There is no fellow in the firmament. On the rolling years! SHAKSPEARE. See how Time, consoling, Dries the saddest tears; Hath nature given them eyes Bids the darkest storm-clouds To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop Pass in gentle rain, Of sea and land, which can distinguish'twixt While uprise in glory The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones Flowers and dreams again! Upon the number'd beach? ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Shzining Stars. SHAKSPEARE. How many a mighty shipEARE. The stormy waves o'erwhelm! Yet our frail bark floats on, Yet our frail hbak floats on, As many farewells as be stars in heaven, Our Alngel holds the helm: With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to Dark storms are gathering round, them And dangerous winds arise; He fumbles up all in one loose adieu. Yet see! one trembling star SHAKSPEARE. Is shining in the skies; And we are safe who trust in thee, All of us have cause Star of the Sea! To wail the dimming of our shining star. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Star' of the Sea. SHAKSPEARE. 520 STARS.-S TA T;UE.-STOR MS. Now they never meet in grove or green, You meaner beauties of the night, By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen. That poorly satisfy our eyes SHAKSPEARE. More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies, Kings are like stars-they rise and set-they haveWhat are you when the sun shall rise? The worship of the world, but no repose. WOTTON. SHELLEY: Hellas. 0 what a confluence of ethereal fires, By this, the northern wagoner had set From urs unnuber'l, down the steep of His sevenfold team behind the stedfast star heaven, That was in ocean waves yet never wet. Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! SPENSER. Nor tarries there; I feel it at my heart. And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods, YOUNG: NZigt ThoZghts. In which a thousand torches flaming bright Do burn, that to us, wretched earthly clods, In dreadful darkness lend desired light. SPENSER. So stands the statue that enchants the world. Is not from hence the way that leadeth right THOMSON: Sunimer. To that most glorious house, that glist'reth bright Theron, amongst his travels, found With burning stars and ever-living fires'? A broken statue on the ground; SPENSER. And searching onward, as he went, He traced a ruin'd monument. Such is his will, that paints Such isrhis will, that pansh, Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown The earth with colours fi'esh, The earkt s with c sfreThe sculpture of the crumbling stone; The darkest skies with store Yet ere he past, with much ado, Of starry lights. SPENSER. He guess'd, and spell'd out Sci-pi-o. "Enough," he cried; " I'll drudge no more Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising throughIn turning the c ull Stoics o'er." In turning the dull Stoics o'er." the mellow shade, DR. ISAAC WATTS: Glitter like a sw\arm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Hero's Sch/ool of ZMoraliZy. silver braid. TENNYSON. " The stars," she whispers, "blindly run; A web is woven across the sky; STORMS. From out waste places comes a cry, rmuste., So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend, And murmurs from the dying sun." TENNYSONU: TIn liemori'm. Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend, Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play, Informer of the planetary train! Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains Without whose quickening glance their cum- away. brous orbs ADDISON. Were brute unlively mass, inert and dead.' iiO N ~A murky storm deep low'ering o'er our heads Hung imminent, that with impervious gloom Thus in a starry night fond children cry Opposed itself to Cynthia's silver ray. For the rich spangles that adorn the sky. ADDISON. WALLER. Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head, And threatens every hour to burst upon it. The formal stars do travel so, ADDISON. ADDISON. As we their names and courses know; And he that on their changes looks The combat thickens, like the storm that flies Would think them govern'd by our books. From westward, when the show'ry winds arise. WALLER. ADDISON. STORMS. 521 There she assembles all her blackest storms, When the rival winds their quarrel try, And the rude hail in rattling tempest forms. South, east, and west, on airy coursers borne, ADDISON. The whirlwind gathers, and the woods are torn. DRYDEN. See, and revere th' artillery of heav'n, Drawn by the gale, or by the tempest driven: And chaff with eddy winds is whirl'd around, A dreadful fire the floating batt'ries make, And dancing leaves are lifted from the ground. O'erturn the mountain, and the forest shake. DRYDEN. SIR R. BLACKMORE. Both house and homestead into seas are borne, The Mariner that on smooth waves doth glide And rocs are fro their own foundations torn. And rocks are from their own foundations torn. Sings merrily, and steers his barque with ease, DRYDEN. As if he had command of wind and tide, And now become great Master of the seas; Nor were those blust'ring brethren left at large, But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, On seas and shores their fury to discharge. And makes him long for a more quiet port, DRYDEN. Which'gainst all adverse winds may serve for My sire in caves constrains the winds, fort. Can with a breath their clam'rous rage appease; ANNE BRADSTREET: Contemplations. They fear his whistle, and forsake the seas. Far along DRYDEN. From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud, Around the field did nimble lightnings play, But every mountain now bath found a tongue;, Which offer'd us by fits, and snatch'd the day: And Jura answers, through her misty shroud,'Midst this was heard the shrill and tender cry And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, c Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud! Of well-pleased ghosts, which in the storm did BYRON: Childe Harold. fly. DRYDEN. Every pilot Red lightnings play'd along the firmament, Can steer the ship in calms; but he performsd works to pieces rent. And their demolish'd works to pieces rent. The skilful part, can manage it in storms. SIR J. DENHAM. Like a rock unmoved, a rock that braves What at first was call'd a gust, the same, The raging tempest and the rising waves. Hath now a storm's, anon a tempest's name. DRYDEN. DONNE. At his command the storms invade; When black clouds draw down the lab'ring The winds by his commission blow, skies, Till with a nod he bids them cease. An horrid stillness first invades the ear, DRYDEN. And in that silence we the tempest fear. DRYDEN. Behold how high the foamy billows ride! The winds and waves are on the juster side. When ocean, air, and ealth at once engage, DRYDEN. I And rooted forests fly before their rage, At once the clashing clouds to battle move. He saw the Trojan fleet, dispersed, distress'd,DR4DEN. By stormy winds and wintry heaven oppress'd. DRYDEN. When gath'ring clouds o'ershadow all the skies, And shoot quick lightnings, Weigh, my boys, As wintry winds contending in the sky he cries. With equal force of lungs their titles try, DRYDEN. They rage, they roar: the doubtful rack of heav'n The noise increases as the billows roar, Stands without motion, and the tide undriv'n. When rolling from afar they threat the shore. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. There fierce winds over dusky valleys blow, If ere night the gath'ring clouds we fear, Whose ev'ry puff bears empty shades away. A song will help the beating storm to bear. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 522 STORMS. Palinurus cried aloud, With dread voices of power. A round million What gusts of weather from that gathering or more cloud Of wild echoes reluctantly rise from their hoar My thoughts presage! ere that the tempest Ilnmemorial ambush, and roll in the wake roars, Of the cloud, whose reflection leaves livid the Stand to your tackles, mates, and stretch your lake. oars. OWEN MEREDITH: LzuciSe. DRYDEN. The thunder, In vain the master issues out commands, Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, In vain the trembling sailors ply their hands; Perhaps has spent his shafts, and ceases now The tempest unforeseen prevents their care. To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. DRYDEN. MILTON. Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black And rent the sheets. wings, DRYDEN. Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove. MILTON. When some dreadful thunderclap is nigh, The winged fire Shoots swiftly through the sky; The dusky clouds o'erspread Strikes and consumes ere scarce it doth appear, Heaven's cheerful face; the low'ring element And by the sudden ill prevents the fear. Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape snow or DRYDEN. show'r. MILTON. Perhaps thy fortune doth control the winds, Teach us further by what means to shun Doth loose or bind their blasts in secret cave. Th' inclenment seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow. FAIRFAX. MILTON. MILTON. How heat and thunder mingle in a maze, He launch'd the fiery bolt from pole to pole, Or belch in thunder, or in lightning blaze; Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders Why nimble coruscations strike the eye, roll. And bold tornadoes bluster in the sky. POPE. GARTH. From pole to pole the thunder roars aloud, And broken lightnings flash from ev'ry cloud. Careless of thunder from the clouds that break, POPE. POPE. My only omens from your looks I take. GRANVILLE. I stand, Naked, defenceless, on a foreign land: And storms with rival fury heaving, Propitious to my wants, a vest supply, From land to sea, from sea to land, To guard the wretched from th' inclement sky. Still as they rave, a chain are weaving POPE. Of deepest efficacy grand. Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll'd, resign'd There burning desolation.blazes, To roaring billows and the warring wind. Precursor of the thunder's way; POPE. But, Lord, thy servants own with praises The milder movement of thy day. Crete's ample fields diminish to our eye; DR. F. H. HEDGE: Trans. from The Before the Boreal blasts the vessels fly. Alngels' Sozng in Goethe's Feust. POPE. When the sun's orb both even and morn is The storm the dark Lycsxan groves display'd, bright, And first to light exposed the sacred shade. Then let no fear of storms thy mind affright. POPE. THOMAS MAY. Then stay, my child! storms beat, and rolls the And the Storm is abroad in the mountains! main. He fills Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas, in vain! The crouch'd hollows and all the oracular hills POPE. STORMS. 5 23 The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar; I have seen tempests when the scolding winds The splitting raft the furious tempest tore. Have rived the knotty oaks; and I have seen POPE. The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds; For eight slow-circling years by tempests tost. To be exalted with the threat POPE. But never till to-night, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. As when two winds with rival force contend, SHAKSPEARE. This way and that the wav'ring sails they bend,Things that love night While freezing Boreas and black Eurus blow,, Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies Now here, now there, the reeling vessel throw.,Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark, POPE. And make them keep their caves: since I was The winds grow high; man Impending tempests charge the srky; Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, The lightning flies, the thunder roars, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never And big waves lash the frighted shores. Remember to have heard. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. As empty clouds by rising winds are tost, Was this a face Their fleeting forms scarce sooner found than To be exposed against the warring winds; lost. To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, PRIOR. In the most terrible and nimble stroke Striking her cliff, the storm confirms her pow'r, Of quick cross lightning? The waves but whiten her triumphant shore. SHAKSPEARE. PRIOR. The tempest in my mind The tempest rages wild and high, Doth from my senses take all feeling else The waves lift up their voice and cry Save what beats there. Fierce answers to the angry sky,- SHAKSPEARE. Miserere, Domine. Miserere, Domnine. When splitting winds Through the black night and driving rain Make flexible the knees of knotted oaks. A ship is struggling, all in vain, SHAKSPEARE. To live upon the stormy main. Thou thinkest much that this contentious storm Miserere, Domine. Invades us to the skin. The thunders roar, the lightnings glare; SHAKSPEARE. Vain is it now to strive or dare; Thou all-shaking thunder, A cry goes up of great despair, — A cry goes up of great despair,- Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world. Miserere, Domine. SHAKSPEARE. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Thie Storm. We hear this fearful tempest ring, I love to list your midnight voices floatet seek no shelter to avoid the storm. Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm. In the dread storm that o'er the ocean rolls, SHAKSPEARE. And, while their charm the angry waves controls, Mix with its sullen roar, and sink remote. Fear no more the lightning flash, MRS. RADCLIFFE: Milys/eries of U~doZ@Ao. Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone. SHAKSPEARE. When through the gloom the glancing lightnings fly, As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs, Heavy the rattling thunders roll on high. When from thy shore the tempest beat us back, ROWE. I stood upon the hatches in the storm. SHAKSPEARE. Every man, After the hideous storm that follow'd, was Though you untie the winds, and let them fight A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke Against the churches. Into a general prophecy, that this tempest, SHAKSPEARE. Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded Now happy he whose cloak and cincture The sudden breach of it. Hold out this tempest. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. 524 STORMS. The southern wind, He cried, as raging seas are wont to roar, Now by his hollow whistling in the trees, When wintry storm his wrathful wreck doth Foretells a tempest. threat. SHAKSPEARE. SPENSER. As we do often see, against some storm, The soveraigne of seas he blames in vaine, A silence in the heav'ns, the rack stands still, That once sea-beate will to sea againe. The bold winds speechless, and the orb below SPENSER. As hush as death. To-night the winds begin to rise SHAIKSPEARE. And roar from yonder dropping day; A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: The last red leaf is whirl'd away, If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, The rooks are blown about the skies; What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd, them, The cattle huddled on the lea; Can hold the mortise? SHAKSI'EARE. And wildly dashd on tower and tree The sunbeam strikes along the world. The wind-shaked surge, with high and mon- TENNYSON: Iz Memouiam. strous main, Seems to cast water on the burning bear; From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage, I never did like molestation view Till, in the furious elemental war On the enchafed flood. Dissolved, the whole precipitated mass SIIAKSPEARE. Unbroken floods and solid torrents pour. The king, THOMSON. Contending with the fretful elements, Along the moorish fens Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm. Or swell the curled waters. SHAKSPEARE. Nature from the storm Such a noise arose As the shrouds e at sea in a stiff tempest; Shines out afiesh; and through the lighten'd air As A higher lustre, and a clearer calm, As loud and to as many tunes. Diffusive tremble. SHAKSPEARE. THOMSON. The night has been unruly: where we lay, By the touch ethereal roused, Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they The dash of clouds, or irritating war The dash of clouds, or irritating war say, Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams They furious spring. They furious spring. of death; THOMSON. And prophesying with accents terrible Of dire combustion and confused events, No sulphureous glooms fNew hatched to the av oenfusl time.dev Swell'd in the sky, and sent the lightning forth. New hatched to the swoeful tiTHSe.o The obscure bird clamour'd the live-long night: Some say the earth was feverous and did shake. Every flexile wave SHAKSPEARE. Obeys the blast, th' aerial tumult swells. THOMSON. After long storms, In dread of death and dangerous dismay, The circling mountains eddy in, With which my silly bark was tossed sore, From the bare wild, the dissipated storm. I do at length descry the happy shore. THOMSON. SPENSER. His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, O turn thy rudder hitherward awhile, The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale. Here may thy storm-beat vessel safely ride. THOMSON. SPENSER. SPENSER.ith clouds and storms So now he storms with many a sturdy stoure; Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd, So now his blustering blast each coast doth scour. Thou humblest nature with thy northern blast. SPENSER. THOMSON. STORMS.-S TREAMS. 5 25'Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all: Where in a plain, defended by the wood, When to the startled eye the sudden glance Crept through the matted grass a crystal flood. Appears far south, eruptive thro' the cloud; DRYDEN. And following slower, in explosion vast, Shallow brooks that fow'd so clear The thunder raises his tremendous voice. The bottom did the top appear. At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven, DRYDEN. The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes, And rolls its awful burden on the wind, Down through the crannies of the living walls The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more The crystal streams descend in murmuring falls. The noise astounds: till overhead a sheet DRYDEN. Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts, Of ancient streams presume no more to tell, And opens wider; shuts and opens still The famed Castalian or Pierian well. Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. Fresh pond superior must those rills confess, Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar, As much as Cambridge yields to Rome or Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal Greece: Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth. More limpid water can no fountain show, THOMSON: Sunmmzer. A fairer bottom, or a smoother brow;'When loud winds from diff'rent quarters rush, A painted world its peaceful gleam contains,Vast clouds encount'ring one another crush. The heavenly arch, the bord'ring groves and WALLER. plains. Though winds do rage, as winds were woo'd, FRANCTS KNAPP: A New Ezngland Pond. And cause spring-tides to raise great flood, (Nwezv Eng. WIeekley 7our., June 28, I73I.) And lofty ships leave anchor in mud, Bereaving many of life and of blood One, whose drought Bereaving many of life and of blood, Yet scarce allay'd, still eyes the current stream, Yet true it is as cow chews cud, And tree at spring doth yield forth bud, Whose liquid murmurs heard new thirst excite. MILTON. Except wind stands as never it stood, It is an ill wind turns none to good. The swain, in barren deserts, with surprise SIR THOMAS WYATT. See lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise; -— <_.~<:> — - And starts amid the thirsty wilds to hear STREAMS. New falls of water murm'ring in his ear. POPE. The first time I beheld thee, beauteous stream, How pure, how smooth, how broad thy The wand'ring streams that shine between the bosom heaved! hills, What feelings rush'd upon my heart -a gleam The grots that echo to the tinkling rills. As of another life my kindling soul received. PoPE. MARIA BROOKS: To izhe River St. Lawrence. Fast beside there trickled softly down Broad are these streams-my steed obeys, A gentle stream, whose murm'ring wave did Plunges and bears me through the tide; play Wide are these wroods I thread the maze Amongst the puny stones, and made a sound Of giant stems, nor ask a guide. Of giant stems, nor ask a guide. To lull him soft asleep that by it lay. I hunt till day's last glimmer dies SPENSER. O'er woody vale and grassy height; And kind the voice, and glad the eyes, Within this wood, out of a rock did rise That welcome my return at night. A spring of water mildly tumbling down; WILLIAM C. BRYANT: Whereto approached not in any wise Hunter of the Prairies. The homely shepherd, nor the ruder clown. The stream is so transparent, pure, and clear, SPENSER. That had the self-enamour'd youth gazed here, The fountain's So fatally deceived he had not been, Bubbling wave did ever freshly wade, While he the bottom, not his face, had seen. Ne ever would through fervent summer fade. SIR J. DENHAM. SPENSER. 526 STREA/rs. -STUD Y. A land of streams! some, like a downward Alas! when all our lamps are burn'd, smoke, Our bodies wasted, and our spirits spent, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; When we have all the learned volumes turn'd And some through wavering lights and shadows Which yield men's wits both help and ornabroke, ment, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. What can we know, or what can we discern? They saw the gleaming river seaward flow SIR J. DAVIES. From the inner land: far off, three mountaintops, In vain on study time away we throw, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, ) When we forbear to act the things we know. Stood sunset-flush'd; and, dew'd with showery SIR J. DENHAM. drops, His body thus adorn'd, he next design'd Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven With libral arts to cultivate his mind: copse. He sought a tutor of his own accord, TENNYSON: Iotos-Eaters. And studied lessons he before abhorr'd. Th' adjoining brook, that purls alongRYDEN. The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool, Thou art pale in mighty studies grown, Gently diffused into a limpid plain; To make the Stoic institutes thy own. In brighter mazes the relucent stream DRYDEN. Plays o'er the mead. THOMSON. This grave advice some sober student bears, And loudly rings it in his fellow's ears. STU D Y. DRYDEN. Will the pedant name her next? Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest; Crabbed with a crabbed text, And age, returning thence, concludes it best. Sits he in his study nook, DRYDEN. With his elbow on a book, And with stately crossed knees, Grant some of knowledge greater store, And a wrinkle deeply thrid More learned some in teaching; Through his lowering brow, Yet few in life did lighten more, Caused by making proofs enow None thunder'd more in preaching. That Plato in' Parmenides' THOMAS FULLER: Meant the same Spinoza did,- Trans. of Latin Epitaph onl Salzuel Thard. Or that an hundred of the groping Like himself, had made oe rHomer, Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; Like'himself, had made onoeHomer, Nothing's so hard but search will find it out. Homeros being a misnomer? MRS. E. B. BROWNING: HERR.'adt~/ and /eer Praises. Here blind old Homer teaches lofty song; My midnight lamp is weary as my soul, The Lesbian sings of Cupid's pinions furl'd, And, being unimmortal, has gone out. And how the heart is wither'd up by wrong; And now alone yon moony lamp of heaven, Dante depictures an infernal world, Which God lit, and not man, illuminates Wide opening many a purgatorial aisle; These volumes others wrote in weariness Torquato sings the woes of Palestine, As I have read them; and this cheek and brow, Alphonso's rage, and Leonora's smileWhose paleness, burned in with heats of thought, Love, Beauty, Genius, Glory, all divine; Would make an angel smile to see how ill Milton depicts the bliss of Paradise, Clay thrust from Paradise consorts with mind,- Then flings apart the ponderous gates of Hell, If angels could, like men, smile bitterly. Where Satan on the fiery billow lies, MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Student. "With head uplift," above his army fell; From hence that gen'ral care and study springs, And Avon's Bard, surpassing all in art, That launching and progression of the mind. Unlocks the portals of the human heart. SIR J. DAVIES. ESTELLE ANNA LEWIS: AMy St.tdy. STUD Y. 527 Longinus, Livy, famed Thucydides, Once upon a midnight dreary, while I ponder'd, Quintilian, Plato, and Demosthenes, weak and weary, Persuasive Tully, and Corduba's sage, Over many a quaint and curious volume of Who fell by Nero's unrelenting rage: forgotten lore. Him whom ungrateful Athens doom'd to bleed, EDGAR A. POE: The Raven. Despised when living, and deplored when dead; Raleigh I'd read with ever fresh delight, Study is lile the heaven's glorious sun, While ages past rise present to my sight. That will not be deep search'd with saucy looks; WII LIAM LIVINGSTON: Small have continual plodders ever won, P/hilosopkic Solitude, a Poem. Save base authority from others' books. SIIAIKSPEARE. This is the great School of Salernm! A land of wrangling and of quarrels, I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated Of brains that seethe and hearts that burn; To closeness, and the bettering of my mind. Where every emulous scholar hears, SHAISPEARE. In every breath that comes to his ears, The rustling of another's laurels. Why, universal plodding prisons up LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. The nimble spirits in the arteries; Quite an extensive catalogue; As motion and long-during action tires Mostly, however, books of our own; The sinewy vigour of the traveller. As Gariopontus' Passionarius, SHAKSPEARE. And the writings of Matthew Platearius; Him for the studious shade And a volume universally known As the Regimen of the School of Salern nature form'd. THOMSON. For Robert of Normandy written in terse And very elegant Latin verse. Lie still, my Plutarch. then, and sleep; LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. And you, good Seneca, may keep Over an ancient scroll I bent, Your volumes closed forever too; Steeping my soul in wise content, I have no further use for you: Nor paused a moment, save to chide For when I feel my virtue fail, A low voice whispering at my side. And my ambitious thoughts prevail, I wove beneath the stars' pale shine I'll take a turn among the tombs, A dream, half human, half divine, And see whereto all glory comes: And shook off (not to break the charm) There the vile foot of every clown A little hand laid on my arm. Tramples the sons of honour down, ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: A Student. Beggars with awful ashes sport, And tread the Caesars in the dirt. In books a prodigal, they say; DDR. ISAAC WATTS: A living cyclopaedia; A livi.g Lyclopedia; Hero's School of i]rora lity. Of histories of church and priest A full compendium at least; In a melancholy study A table-talker rich in sense, None but myself, And witty without wit's pretence.ethought myse grew muddy; Methought my Muse grew muddy; COTTON MATHER: COT TONs MATHER:After seven years' reading Trans. of Epit~az on Anne Bradstreet. And costly breeding, His classical reading is great: he can quote I felt, but could find no pelf: Horace, Juvenal, Ovid, and Martial by rote. Into learned rags He has read metaphysics-Spinoza and Kant; I've rent my plush and satin, And theology too: I have heard him descant And now am fit to beg Upon Basil and Jerome. Antiquities, art, In Hebrew, Greek, and Latin; He is fond of. He knows the old masters by Instead of Aristotle, heart, Would I had got a patten: And his taste is refined. Alas, poor scholar! whither wilt thou go? OWEN MEREDITH: Lucile. DR. ROBERT WILD: It/er Boreale 528 STYLE. If not to some peculiar end assign'd, And as his actions rose, so raise they still their Study's the specious trifling of the mind; vein Or is at best a secondary aim, In words whose weight best suits a sublimated A chase for sport alone, and not for game. strain. YOUNG. DRAYTON. Whose verses they deduced from those first STYLE. golden times, What numerous volumes scatter'd from his hand Of sundry sorts of feet, and sundry suits of Lighten'd his own and warm'd each foreign r DRTON. land! What pious breathings of a glowing soul Enquire from whence this motley style Live in each page, and animate the whole! Did first our Roman purity defile. The breath of heaven the savoury pages show, DRYDEN. As we Arabia from its spices know. Studious to please the genius of the times, The beauties of his style are careless strew'd,, With periods, points, and tropes he slurs his And learning with a liberal hand bestow'd:cries crimes; So, on the field of heav'n, the seeds of fire He robb'd not, but he borrow'd from, the poor. Thick-sown, but careless, all the wise admire. DRYDEN. JOHN ADAMS, of Newport, R. I.: On the Death/ of Colton Mlather. At every sentence set his life at stake, Though the discourse were of no weightier How he apes his sire, things Ambitiously sententious t itiously sentetious Than sultry summers or unhealthful springs. ADDISON. DRYDEN. But ill expression sometimes gives allay To noble thoughts, whose flame shall ne'er To raw numbers and unfinish'd verse decay. Sweet sound is added now to make it terse. BUCKINGHAM. DRYDEN. But seldom (as if fearful of expense) Poor clinches the suburban muse affords, Vouchsafes to man a poet's just pretence,- And Panton waging harmless war with words. Fervency, freedom, fluency of thought, DRYDEN. HIarmony, strength, words exquisitely sought; Fancy, that, from the bow that spans the sky, But write thy best and top, and in each line Brings colours, dipp'd in heaven, that never die; Sir Formal's oratory will be thin9. A soul exalted above earth, a mind DRYDEN. Skill'd in the characters that form mankind. He was too warm on picking work to dwell, COWPER. But fagoted his notions as they fell, The just is clearly to be seen And if they rhymed and rattled, all was well. Not in the words, but in the gap between: DRYDEN. Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ: Pride often guides the author's pen; The substitute for genius, sense, and wit. Books as affected are as men But he who studies nature's laws Vast is my theme, yet unconceived, and brings prom certain truth his maxims draws; Untoward words, scarce loosen'd yet from And those, without our schools, suffice things. To make men moral, good, and wise. CREECH. GAY: Fables. Express thyself in plain, not doubtful words, As veils transparent cover, but not hide, That ground for quarrels or disputes affords. metaphors appear when right applied SIR J. DENHAiML. When through the phrase we plainly see the To fit my sullenness, sense, He to another key his style doth dress. Truth with such obvious meanings will dispense. DONNE. GRANVILLE. STYZE. 529 Hyperboles, so daring and so bold, What woeful stuff this madrigal would be Disdaining bounds, are yet by rules controll'd; In some starved hackney-sonnetteer or me! Above the clouds, but yet within our sight, But let a lord once own the happy lines, They mount with truth, and make a tow'ring How the wit brightens! how the style refines! flight. POPE. GRANVILLE. Leave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and Diversified'midst unison of chime, know Freer than air, yet manacled with rhyme. FHARTE. What's roundly smooth, and languishingly slow. POPE. Various of numbers, new in ev'ry strain; Iiffused,,.et,erse; poeticHe who now to sense, now nonsense leaning, Diffsed, yet terse; poetical, though plain. Means not, but blunders round about a meaning; And he whose fustian's so sublimely bad, To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. It is not poetry, but prose run mad. MILTON. POPE. To after-age thou shalt be writ the man True expression, like th' unchanging sun, That with smooth air could humour best our Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon: tongue. It gilds all objects, but it alters none. MILTON. POPE. Oft their aid the open vowels tire, True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, While expletives their feeble aid do join. As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance. POPE.'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence; The sound must seem an echo to the sense: But fill their purse, our poets' work is done: Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, Alike to them by pathos or by pun. And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; They ring round the same unvaried chimes, But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, With sure returns of still-expected rhymes. The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent POPE. roar; hen jax strives some rock's vast weight to Commas and points they set exactly right, When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to And'twere a sin to rob them of their mite. throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow: POPE. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Late, very late, correctness grew our care, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along When the tired nation breathed from civil war. the main.' POPE. POPE. Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle, art; Expression is the dress of thought, and still No language but the language of the heart. Appears more decent, as more suitable; POPE. A vile conceit in pompous words express'd He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force; Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd. POPE. Nor can a word be changed but for a worse. POPEPE. Some to conceit alone their taste confine, Some to conceit alone their taste confine, Then at the last, an only couplet, fraught And curious thoughts struck out at ev'ry line,- VWith sonme unmeaning thing they call a thought, Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. That, like a wounded snake, draws its slow POPE. length along. POPE. Others for language all their care express, And value books, as women men, for dress: Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, Their praise is still, "The style is excellent;" Amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned The sense they humbly take upon content. smile. POPE. POPE. 34 530 STYLE. One simile that solitary shines Degrading prose explains his meaning ill, In the dry desert of a thousand lines. And shows the stuff, and not the workman's POPE. skill. ROSCOMMON. Happy who in his verse can gently steer From grave to gay, from pleasant to severe. Others that affect POPE. A lofty style, swell to a tympany. First follow nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same; The weighty bullion of one sterling line Unerring nature, still divinely bright, Drawn to French wire would through whole One clear, unchanged, and universal light, pages shine. Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, ROSCOMMON: Trlanslated Verse. At ofice the source, and end, and test of art. POPE. All men will try, and hope to write as well, And not without much pains be undeceived. Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime; ROScOMb iON.'Tis like the ladder in the patriarch's dream, Its foot on earth, its height above the skies. You gain your point if your industrious art PRIOR. Can make unusual words easy.'Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow, ROSCOMON.'Their sense untutor'd infancy may know: Affected noise is the most wretched thing Yet to such height is all that plainness wrought, That to contempt can empty scribblers bring. Wit may admire, and letter'd pride be taught. ROSCOMIMON. PRIOR. If Cupid throws a single dart, Sublime or low, unbended or intense, If Cupid throws a single dart, We make him wound the lover's heart; The sound is still a comment to the sense. We make him wound the lover's heart; But if he takes his bow and quiver, RoscoMmoN.'Tis sure he must transfix the liver; They in most grave and solemn wise unfolded For rhyme with reason may dispense, Matter which little purported, but words And sound has right to govern sense. Rank'd in right learned phrase. PRIOR. ROWE.'To speak one thing, mix'd dialects they join; The fool hath planted in his memory Divide the simple, and the plain define. An army of good words; and I do know PRIOR. A many fools that stand in better place,'Some that with care true eloquence shall teach, Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word And to just idioms fix our doubtful speech. Defy the matter. PRIOR. PRIOR. SHAKSPEA RE. Never will I trust to speeches penn'd; Similes are like songs in love: They much describe, they nothing prove. Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, PRIOR. Three-piled hyperboles. SHAKSPEARE. Let us not write at a loose rambling rate, Of all those arts in which the wise excel, In hope the world will wink at all our faults.e is el RoscoMoN. Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. RoscoMMON. SHEFFIELD: Essay on Poetry. Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express With painful care, hut seeming easiness; You write with ease to show your breeding; For truth shines brightest through the plainest But easy writing's cursed hard reading. dress. 0RoscoMMoN. Not the desk with silver nails, Sublime ideas and apt words infuse; Nor bureau of expense, The muse instruct my voice, and thou inspire Nor standish well japann'd, avails the muse. To writing of good sense. ROSCOMMON. SWIFT. STYL E. -S UCCESS. -SUFFERIVG. 5 31 In mbodern wit, all printed trash is Our toils, my friends, are crown'd with sure Set off with num'rous breaks and dashes. success: SWIFT. The greater part perform'd, achieve the less. DRYDEN. Oft wide of nature must he act a part, Make love in tropes, in bombast break his heart. But who shall tax successful villany, TICKELL. Or call the rising traitor to account? HAVARD. Poets lose half the praise they should have got Had I miscarried, I had been a villain; Could it be knowni what they discreetly blot. For men judge actions always by events: WALLER. But when we manage by a just foresight, Our lines reform'd, and not composed in haste, Success is prudence, and possession right. Polish'd like marble, would like marble last. HIGGONS. WALLER. So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse Met ever, and to shameful silence brought, I never yet the tragic strain essay'd, Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success. Deterr'd by that inlimitable maid; MILTON. And when I venture at the comic style, Thy scornful lady seems to mock my toil. Such a nature, WALLER. Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow Which he treads on at noon. Will no superior genius snatch the quill, SHAKSPEARE. And save me on the brink from writing ill? YOUNG. With the losers let it sympathize; For nothing can seem foul to those that win. SHAKSPEARE. SUCCESS. It is success that colours all in life;'Tis not in mortals to command success; Success makes fools admired, makes villains But we'll do more, Sempronius,-we'll deserve honest. it. All the proud virtue of this vaunting world ADDISON: Caio. Fawns on success and power, howe'er acquired. THOMSON. Success, the mark no mortal wit, Or surest hand, can always hit; For, whatsoever we perpetrate, SUFFERING. We do but row, we're steer'd by fate. Her suff'ring ended with the day; BUTLER: HZdiibras. Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away Nor do the boldest'tempts bring forth, Events still equal to their worth, statue-like repose. But sometimes fail, and in their stead But when the sun in all his state Fortune'and cowardice succeed. Illumed the eastern skies, BUTLER: Hztdizb'as. She pass'd through glory's morning gate, And walk'd in Paradise! Dream after dream ensues, JAMES ALDRICH (from 5tZe Jew [Zon Wod). And still they dream that they shall still succeed, And still are disappointed. The face which, duly as the sun, COWPER: Task. Rose up for me with life begun, To mark all bright hours of the day Wisdom he has, and to his wisdom courage; With daily love, is dimm'd awray,Temper to that, and unto all success. yet my days go on, go on. SIR J. DENHAM. The tongue which, like a stream, could run Virtue without success Smooth music from the roughest stone, Is a fair picture shown by an ill light; And every morning with " Good-day" But lucky men are favourites of heaven: Made each day good, is hush'd away,All own the chief when fortune owns the cause. Ald yet my days go on, go on. DRYDEN. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: De ProfUndis. 532 S UfERNVG. -S UCIDE. Light suff'rings give us leisure to complain; Most wretched men We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain. Are cradled into poetry by wrong; DRYDEN. They learn in suffering what they teach in song. SHELLEY: J7tliatn and Maddolo. As if with sports my suff'rings I could ease. DRYDEN. Then patient bear the sufferings you have earn'd, And by these sufferings purify the mind; If Arcite thus deplore Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd, His suff'rings, yet Palamon suffers more. Or pious die, with penitence resign'd; DRYDEN. And to a life more happy and refined Doubt not you shall, new creatures, yet arise. They, the holy ones and weakly, THOMSON: Castle of Redolence. Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, And there's a voice-a still small voice, Spake with us on earth no more! IThat comes when the storm is past; LONGFELLOW: Footsteps of Angels. It bids the sufferer's heart rejoice, In the haven of peace at last! Oh, fear not in a world like this, It tells of joys beyond the grave, And thou shalt know ere long,- And of Him who died a world to save. Know how sublime a thing it is KATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: To suffer and be strong. Voice of the Seasons. LONGFELLOW: Liezh,,t of the Stars. The air is full of farewells to the dying, SUICIDE. And mournings for the dead; The heart of Rachel for her children crying Our time is fix'd; and all our days ae numWill not be comforted! ber'; How long, how short, we know not: this we Let us be patient! these severe afflictions know: Not from the ground arise, Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Nor dare to stir till heaven shall give permission. Assume this dark disguise. BLAIR: GCrave. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors: Beware of desperate steps! the darkest day, Amid these earthly damps Amllid these earthly damps Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away. What seem to us but dim funereal tapers May be Heaven's distant lamps. Take heed LONGFELLOW: Resignation. How you do threaten heav'n by menacing Yourself; as we have no authority To take away the being of another whom To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease Thy m wh t eOur pride contemns, so we have less t' annihi Thy mind with what amends is in my pow'r.late MILTON. late Our own when it is fal'ln in our dislike. Of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue. SIR W. DAVENANT: Distresses. MVIILTON. Death may be call'd in vain, and cannot come; Prepared I stand; I was but born to try Tyrants may tie him up from your relief; The lot of man,-to suffer and to die. Nor has a Christian privilege to die. POPE. Brutus and Cato might discharge their souls, And give them furloughs for another world, Be strong to bear, O Heart! But we, like sentries, are obliged to stand Nothing is vain: In starless nights, and wait th' appointed hour. Strive not, for life is care, DRYDEN. And God sends pain; Heaven is above, and there With late repentance now they would retrieve Rest will remain! The bodies they forsook, and wish to live. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Be Strong. DRYDEN. SUICIDE. S UMME R. 533 The next in place and punishment are they When all the blandishments of life are gone, Who prodigally threw their lives away; The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on. Fools, who, repining at their wretched state, DR. G. SEWELL: The Suicide. And loathing anxious life, suborn'd their fate. Oh that this too, too solid flesh would melt, DRYDEN. Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew i Or that the Everlasting had not set Shall nature, erring from her first command, Or that the Everlasting had not set Self-preservation, fall by her own hand His canon'gainst self-slaughter ~GRANVILLE.~ 5 ~SHAKSPEARE. GRANVILLE. Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,'Tis not courage, when the darts of chance To end itself by death?'Tis yet some comfol-t Are thrown against our state, to turn our backs When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage And basely run to death; as if the hand And frustrate his proud will. Of heaven and nature had lent nothing else SHAKSPEARE. T' oppose against mishap, but loss of life: Which is to fly, and not to conquer it. To be? or, Not to be? that is the question: BEN JONSON Adase. Whether'tis nobler in the mind to suffer BEN JONSON: 2tdraste. The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune; What torments are allotted those sad spirits Or, to take arms against a sea of troubles, Who, groaning with the burden of despair, And, by opposing, end them? No longer will endure the cares of life, SHAKSPEARE. But boldly set themselves at liberty, The dread of something after death, Through the dark caves of death to wander on, That undiscover'd country from whose bourn Like wilder'd travellers, without a guide: No traveller returns, puzzles the will, Eternal rovers in the gloomy maze, And makes us rather bear the ills we have, Where scarce the twilight of an infant morn,, Than fly to others that we know not of. By a faint glimmer check'ring through the trees, SHAKSPEARE. Reflects to dismal view the walking ghosts That never hope to reach the blessed fields. Gods! take my breath from me; LEE. Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please. O deaf to nature, and to Heaven's command, SHAKSPEARE. Against thyself to lift the murdering hand! Ginst self-slughte O damn'd despair!-to shun the living light, i s There is a prohibition so divine And plunge thy guilty soul in endless night! CREiUS That cravens my weak hand. SHAKSPEARE. Unlicensed to eternity! Think! think! If fate forbears us, fancy strikes the blow; And let the thought restrain thy impious hand. We make misfortunes, suicides in woe! MASON. YOUNG. He He who, superior to the checks of nature, That kills himself t' avoid misery, fears it, Dares make his life the victim of his reason, And at the best shows but a bastard valour: Does in some sort that reason deify, This life's a fort committed to my trust, And take a flight at heav'n. Which I must not yield up, till it be forced; YOUNG: Revenge. Nor will I: he's not valiant that dares die; But he that boldly bears calamity. MASSINGER: Jfaid of Honour. SUMMER. Child of despair, and suicide my name. The summer, how it enripen'd the year; SAVAGE. And autumn, what our golden harvests were. DONNE. Venture not rashly on an unknown being: E'en the most perfect shun the brink of death, When winter past, and summer scarce begun, And shudder at the prospect of futurity. Invites them forth to labour in the sun. SAVAGE: Sir Thomas Overbury. DRYDEN. 534 SUMMER. The ladies gasp'd, and scarcely could respire; Thou art bearing hence thy roses, The breath they drew, no longer air, but fire: Glad Stimmer, fare thee well! The fainty knights were scorch'd, and knew not Thou art singing thy last melodies where In every wood and dell. To run for shelter; for no shade was near. MRs. HEMANS. DRYDEN. When the summer harvest was gather'd in, Our summer such a russet livery wears And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and As in a garment often dyed appears. thin, DRYDEN. And the ploughshare was in its furrow left, Hither in summer evenings you relpair, Where the stubble land had been lately cleft, To taste the freshness of the purer air. An Indian hunter, with unstrung how, DRYDEN. Look'd down where the valley lay stretch'dcl Go forth at eventide, below. LONGFELLOW: Indianlz Hutnter. The eventide of summer, when the trees Moon of the summer night Yield their frail honors to the passing breeze, Moon of the summer ight a And woodland paths with autumn tints are r down you western steeps, dyed: Sink, sink in silver light! When the mild sun his paling lustre shrouds She sleeps In gorgeous draperies of golden clouds: My lady sleeps! Then wander forth, mid beauty and decay, Sleeps LONGFELLOW: SpanisT Student. To meditate alone-alone to watch and pray. EMMA C. EMBURY: Autuzmn Eveninzg. Frail as summer's flower we flourish: Blows the wind, and it is gone; Durst on thy mantle! dust, But while hMortals rise and perish, Bright Summer, on thy livery of green! God endures unchanging on A tarnish, as of rust, Praise Him! Praise Him! Dims thy late brilliant sheen; Praise the High Eternal One. And thy young glories,-leaf, and bud, and HENRY FRANCIS LYTE: Praise to God. flower,Change cometh over them with every hour. In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride. Change cometh over them with every hour. MILrON. Thee hath the August sun Small wren, mute pecking at the last red plum, Look'd on with hot, and fierce, and brassy Or twittering idly at the yellowing boughs, face; Fruit-emptied, over thy forsaken house,Ancd still and lazily run, Birdie, that seems to come Scarce h whispedring in their pace, Telling, we too have spent our little store, The half-dried rivulets, that lately sent Our summers o'er A shout of gladness up, as on they went. WLLIA DGLAGE:Poor robin, driven in by rain-storms wild WILLIAMI D. GAILLAGHER: Azufzgst. To lie submissive under household hands Stillness of summer noontide over hill, With beating heart that no love understands, And deep-embowering wood, and rock, and Anc scared eye, like a child stream, Who only knows that he is all alone, Spread forth her downy pinions, scattering And summer's gone. sleep MISS D. M. MULOCH: Summere Gone. Upon the drooping eyelids of the air. No wind breathed through the forest that could How sweet the summer gales of night, That blow when all is peaceful round, As if some spirit's downy flight The lightest foliage. If a rustling sound Swept silent through the blue profound! Escaped the trees, it might be nestling bird, Or else the polish'd leaves were turning back How sweet at midnight to recline To their own natural places, whence the wind Where flows the cool and fragrant stream, Of the last hour had flung them. There half repeat some glowing line, FRANCES H. GREEN: There court each wild and fairy dream! lNew England Suztmzzer7 in the Ancienzt Timie. ANDREWS NORTON: A Suzzmmzer Nighzt. SUMJMER. 535'Twas when the dog-star's unpropitious ray'Tis the summer prime, when the noiseless air Smote ev'ry brain, and wither'd ev'ry bay; In perfumed chalice lies, Sick was the sun. And the bee goes by with a lazy hum, POPE. Beneath the sleeping skies: The dazzling roofs, When the brook is low, and the ripples bright, Resplendent as the blaze of summer noon, As down the stream they go, Or the pale radiance of the midnight moan. The pebbles are dry on the upper side, POPE. And dark and wet below. Oft in pleasing tasks we wear the day, MRS. E. OAIcS SMITH: Midsummer. While summer suns roll unperceived away. POPE. The Summer, the divinest Summer burns, Where summer's beauty'midst of winter stays, The skies are bright with azure and with gold; And winter's coolness, spite of summer's rays. The mavis and the nightingale, by turns, POPE. Am-id the woods a soft enchantment hold: Moan, O ye Autumn Winds! The fowering woods, with glory and delight, Summer has fled, Then tender leaves unto the air have spread; The flowers have closed their tender leaves, and The wanton air, amid their alleys bright, die; Doth softly fly, and a light fragrance shed: The lily's gracious head The nymphs within the silver'fountains play, All low must lie, The angels on the golden banks recline, Because the gentle Summer now is dead. Wherein great Flora, in her bright array, Grieve, O ye Autumn Winds! Hath sprinkled her ambrosial sweets divine: Summer lies low; Or, else, I gaze upon that beauteous face, The rose's trembling leaves will soon be shed, O Amoret! and think these sweets have place. For she that loved her so, WILLIAM SOTHEBY. Alas! is dead, And one by one her loving children go. Then came the iolly Sommer, being dight ADELAIDSE A. PROCTER: In a thin silken cassock coloured greene, Lamentfor the Summner. That was unlyned all, to be more light: And on his head a girlond well beseene Who loves not more the night of June Than cold December's gloom noon? He wore, from which, as he had chauffed been, Than cold December's gloomy noon? SI W. ScoTT: Mmion. The sweat did drop; and in his hand he bore SIR W. SCOTT: _Ma/az'ion. A bowe and shaftes, as he in forrest greene The Slurmmlher dawn's reflected hue Had hunted late the libbard or the bear, To purple changed Loch IKatrine's blue; And now would bathe his limbes with labour Mildly and soft the western breeze heated sore. Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, SPENSER. And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Now the summer's in prime Trembled, but dimpled not, for joy. SIR W. SCOTT: Lady ofe Lake. Wi' the flowers richly blooming, SIR W. SCOTT: Zday of the Zake. And the wild mountain thyme Short summer lightly has a forward spring. A' the moorlands perfuming, SHAKSPEARE. To our dear native scenes Take heed, have open eye; for thieves do foot Let us journey thegither, by night: Where glad innocence reigns Take heed ere summer comes, or cuckoo birds'Mang the braes o' Balquhither. affright. ROBERT TANNAHILL: SIHAKSPEARE. ~SHAR~SPEARE. ~T/ze Braes o' Balquhitleer. There is so hot a summer in my brain That all my bowels crumble up to dust. Till all the hundred summers pass, SHAKSPEARE. The beams that through the oriel shine Can such things be, Make prisms in every carven glass And overcome us like a summer cloud, And beaker brimm'd with noble wine.'WVithout our special wonder? * Each baron at the banquet sleeps, SHAKSPEARE. Grave faces gather'd in a ring; 536 S UMMER.-SUN_. His state the king reposing keeps: Bland as the morning breath of June He must have been a jovial king. The southwest breezes play; TENNYSON: Sleeping Palace. And, through its haze, the winter noon Seems warm as summer's day. All-conquering Heat, oh, intermit thy wrath! The snow-plumed Angel of the North And on my throbbing temples potent thus Has dropp'ld his icy spear; Beam not so fierce! Incessant still you flow, Again the mossy earth looks forth, And still another fervent flood succeeds, Again the streams gush clear. Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, The fox his hill-side cell forsakes, And restless turn, and look around for Night; The muskrat leaves his nook, Night is far off; and hotter hours approach. The THOMSON: Smme. The bluebird in the meadow-brakes THOMSON: Sztmme?'. Is singing with the brook. From bright'ning fields of ether, fair disclosed, Bear up, 0 mother Nature!" cry Bird, breeze, and streamLlet free; Child of the sun, refulgent Summer comes;,, In pride of youth, and felt through nature's "Our winter voices prophesy depth, Of summer days to thee!" He comes, attended by the sultry hours So in these winters of the soul, And ever-fanning breezes on his way. By bitter blasts and drear THOMSON: Seasons. O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole, Will sunny days appear. Hope waits upon the flow'ry prime; Reviving Hope and Faith, they show A-s,hgiblsg, Reviving Hope and Faith, they show And summer, though it be less gay, The soul its living powers, The soul its living powers, Yet is not look'd on as a time And how beneath the winter's snow Of declination or decay. Of decliatio or decay. Lie germs of summer flowers! WALLER. The Night is mother of the Day, There is a voice in the summer gale, The Winter of the Spring, Which breathes among regions of bloom, And ever upon old Decay And ever upon old Decay Or murmurs soft through the dewy vale The greenest mosses cling. In moonlight's tender gloom: Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, It tells of hopes unblighted yet, Through showers the sunbeams fall; And of hours the soul can ne'er forget. For God, who loveth all his works, KATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: Has left his Hope with all. Voice of the Seasons. J. G. WHITTIER: D)-eam of SummtlZer. I love to wander through the woodlands hoary In the soft gloom of an autumnal day, When Summer gathers up her robes of glory, And, like a dream of beauty, glides away. Of heat and light what ever-during stores, Brought from the sun's exhaustless golden How through each loved, familiar path she shores, lingers, Through gulfs immense of intervening air, Serenely smiling through the golden mist, Enrich the earth, and every loss repair! Tinting the wild grape with her dewy fingers, I SIR R. BLACKMIORE. Till the cool emerald turns to amethyst, — See how the rising fruits the gardens crown, Imbibe the sun, and make his light their own. Kindling the faint stars of the hazel, shining, SIR R. BLACKMORE. To light the gloom of Autumn's mouldering halls, Does not this wise philosopher assert With hoary plumes the clematis entwining, That the vast orb, which casts so far his beams, Where o'er the rocks her wither'd garland Is such, or not much bigger than he seems? falls. That the dimensions of his glorious face SARAH HELEN WHITMAN: Two geometric feet do scarce surpass? Still Day in Azztmzn. SIR R. BLACKMORE. SUN. 537 How can judicious atomists conceive When the frail bud hath lost its worth, Chance to the sun could his just impulse give? And Joy hath dash'd it fi-om his crest,SIR R. BLACKMORE. Then Sorrow takes it from the earth, To wither on her wither'd breast. Why earth or sun diurnal stages keep, In spiral tracts why through the Zodiac creep. JAMES GORDON BROOKS: Joy aad Sorrow. SIR R. BLACKXMORE. How beauteous art thou, O thou morning sun! Then, higher, on the glittering sun I gazed, The old man, feebly tottering forth, admires Whose beams were shaded by the leavie tree; As much thy beauty, now life's dream is done, The more I look'd, the more I grew amazed, As when he moved exulting in his fires. And softly said, What glory's like to thee? MARIA BROOKS: Zoshziel. Soule of this world, this Universe's eye, The sun now rose upon the right, No wonder some made thee a deity: Out of the sea came he; Had I not better known (alas), the same had I. Still hid in mist, and on the left, Thou as a bridegroom from thy chamber rushest, Went down into the sea. And as a strong man joyes to run a race; COLERIDGE: Rime of th/e A4ncient lMariner. The morn doth usher thee, with smiles and The self-same sun blushes, At once doth slow and swiftly run. The earth reflects her glances in thy face; Birds, insects, animals, with vegetive, Swiftly his daily journey he goes, Thy heat from death and dulness doth revive: But treads his annual with a statelier pace, And does three hundred rounds enclose AXii-; ini the darksome womb of fruitful nature dive. I Within one yearly circle's space. Thus with a double course, in the same sphere, Thy swift annual, and diurnal course, He runs the day, and walks the year. Thy daily straight, and yearly oblique path, COWLEY. Thy pleasing fervour, and thy scorching force, All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath.All the world's bravery that delights our eyes Is but thy several liveries; Thy presence makes it day, thy absence night; Thou the rich dye on them bestow'st, Quaternal seasons caused by thy might: Thou the rich dye op them bestow'stc Hail creature, full of sweetness, beauty, and Thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou delight! go'st. COWLEY. Art thou so full of glory, that no eye Hatho strength thy shiing ratyes once to be- There no dear glimpse of the sun's lovely face Hath strength thy shining rayes once to behold? Strikes through the solid darkness of the place. COWLEY. And is thy splendid throne erect so high As to approach it can no earthly mould? As the world's sun doth effects beget How full of glory then must thy Creator be, Diffrent in divers places ev'ry day; Who gave this bright light lustre unto thee! Here autumn's temperature, there summer's Admired, adored forever, be that Majesty! heat, ANNE BRADSTREET: ConZtentpliions. Here flow'ry spring-tide, and there winter gray. Joy kneels, at morning's rosy prime, SIR J. DAVIES. In worship to the rising sun; But Sorrow loves the calmer time, The sun, like this, from which our sight we When the day-god his course hath run: have, -When Night is in her shadowy car, Gazed on too long, resumes the light he gave. Pale Sorrow wakes while Joy doth sleep; SIR J. DENHAM. And, guided by the evening star, Nor can the sun She wanders forth to muse and weep. Perfect a circle, or maintain his way Joy loves to cull the summer-flower One inch direct; but where he rose to-day And wreathe it round his happy brow; He comes no more, but with a cozening line But when the dark autumnal hour Steals by that point, and so is serpentine. Hath laid the leaf and blossoms low, DONNE. 538 S UV. So when the sun by day, or moon by night, Sev'n times the sun has either tropic view'd, Strike on the polish'd glass their trembling light, The winter banish'd, and the spring renew'd. The glittering species here and there divide, DRYDEN. And cast their dubious beams from side to side: Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, You are not for obscurity design'd, And to the ceiling flash the glaring day. But, like the sun, must cheer all human kind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Th' unerring sun by certain signs declares Go forth at morning's birth, What the late ev'n or early morn prepares, When the glad sun, exulting in his might, Both when the south projects a stormy day, Comes from the dusky-curtain'd tents of night, And when the clearing north will puff the Shedding his gifts of beauty o'er the earth; clouds away. When sounds of busy life are on the air, DRYDEN. And man awakes to labor and to care, Then hie thee forth: go out amid thy kind, If dusky spots are varied on his brow, Thy daily tasks to do, thy harvest-sheaves to) And streak'd with red, a troubled colour show, bind That sullen mixture shall at once declare EMMIA C. EMBURY: AH'Ztl/iz L'velzzizof. Winds, rain, and storms, and elemental war. DRYDEN. Not with more glories in th' ethereal plain If fiery red hisglowing globe descends, The sun first rises o'er the purpled main, High winds and furious tempests he portends; Reclining soft in blissful bow'rs But if his cheeks are swoln with livid blue, Purpled sweet with springing flow'rs. He bodes wet weather by his wat'ry hue. FENTON. DRYDEN. The youth, transported, asks without delay If through mists he shoots his sullen beams, To guide the sun's bright chariot for a day. Frugal of light, in loose and struggling streams, GARTH. Suspect a drizzling day. DRYDEN. The radiant sun Sends from above ten thousand blessings down, The sun was set, and Vesper, to supply Theunwsse, a e, tNor is he set so high for show alone. _His absent beams, had lighted up the sky. GRANVILLE. GRANVILLE. DRYDEN. He with his tepid rays the rose renews, The sun is still forever sounding And licks the dropping leaves, and dries the With brother spheres a rival song, dews. And on his destined journey bounding, DRYDEN. With thunder-step he speeds along. The sight gives angels strength, though greater The disk of Phoebus, when he climbs on high, he iskofPbu,, Than angels' utmost thought sublime; Appears at first but as a bloodshot eye; Anid all thy wondrous works, Creator, And when his chariot downward draws to bed, His ball is with the same suffusion red. Are grand as in creation's prime. DR. F. H. HEDGE: DRYDEN. li-ans. from the Anzgels' Song' in Goethke's Faust. The clouds dispell'd, the sky resumes her light, And nature stood recover'd of her fright. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, DRYDEN. The higher he's a getting, The sooner will his race be run, Five girdles bind the skies, the torrid zone And nearer he's to setting. Glows with the passing and repassing sun. HERRICK: To time Virgins. DRYDEN. Nature stands aghast; I stood upon the hills when heaven's wide arch And the fair light which gilds this new-made Was glorious with the sun's returning march, orb, And woods were brighten'd, and soft gales Shorn of his beams, shrinks in. VWent forth to kiss the sun-clad vales. DRYDEN. LONGFELLOW: Sunzrise on tihe Hills. SUEN. 539 Whether the sun, predominant in heav'n, With one virtuous touch, Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun; The arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote, He from the east his flaming road begin, Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd, Or she from west her silent course advance *Here in the dark so many precious things, With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps Of colour glorious and effect so rare. On her soft axle, while she paces ev'n MILTN. And bears thee soft with the smooth air along, The setting sun Solicit not thy thoughts. Slowly descended; and, with right aspect, MILTON. Against the eastern gate of Paradise Levell'd his ev'ning rays. Thou sun! of this great world both eye and soul, MILTON. MILTON. Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise the gilded car of day In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, His glowing axle doth allay And when high noon hast gain'd, and when In the steep Atlantic stream. MILTON. thou fall'st. MILTON. The sun, In his east the glorious lamp was seen, Declined, was hasting now with prone career Regent of day; and all th' horizon round, To th' ocean isles; and, in th' ascending scale Invested with bright rays. Of heav'n, the stars that usher evening rose. MILTON. MILTON. O thou, that, with surpassing glory crown'd, Of light the greatel part he took, and placed Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God In the sun's orb, made porous to receive Of this new world; at whose sight-all the stars And drink the liquid light; firm to retain Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, Her gather'd beams; great palace now of light. But with no fiiendly voice; and add thy name, MILTON. O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, They in numbers that compute That bring to my remembrance from what state Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheerI fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride and worse ambition threw me clown, ing lamp, Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchless ing. By his magnetic beam. MILTON. MILTON. MILTON. First the sun, As when the sun, new risen, A mighty sphere! he framed, unlightsome first, Looks through the horizontal misty air, Though of ethereal mould. Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon, MILTON. In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds What if the sun On half the nations. Be centre to the world, and other stars, MILTON. By his attractive virtue and their own Then in the east her turn she shines, Incited, dance about him various rounds? Revolved on heav'n's great axis. MILTON. MILTON. Blest power of sunshine! genial day! When the sun begins to fling What balm, what life, are in thy ray! His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring To feel thee is such real bliss, To arched walls of twilight groves. That had the world no joy but this, MILTON. To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, The great luminary It were a world too exquisite Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, For man to leave it for the gloom, That from his lordly eye keep distance due, The deep cold shadow, of the tom Dispenses light from far. MOORE: Lalla Rookh. MILTON. Morning breaks! the kingly sun In the fruitful earth Issueth forth, a glorious one! His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. Fount of gladness, nature's crown, MILTON. Now, at noon, or going down! 540 SU/N First and universal light, Falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, Make my shadowy spirit bright! And the low sun had lengthen'd every shade. POPE. Morning breathes! the sleeping flowers Wake before her gentle powers, The setting sun now shone serenely bright. And the dewy plants inhale POPE. Blessings from the sunny gale: He now, observant of the parting ray, Thou that breakest nature's rest, Eyes the calm sunset of thy various day. Stir and animate my breast. POPE. DR. ALEXANDER S. PATTERSON: From the middle of the world /orni nfg Hymn. The sun's prolific rays are hurl'd; Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray,'Tis from that seat he darts those beams And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day. Which quicken earth with genial flames. POPE. PRIOR. When first the sun too pow'rful beams displays, Reason our guide, what can she more reply It draws up vapours which obscure its rays: Than that the sun illuminates the sky; But ev'n those clouds at last adorn its way, Than that night rises from his absent ray, Reflect new glories, and augment the day. And his returning lustre kindles day? POPE. PRIOR. Our old solemnities Hail to the sun! from whose returning light From no blind zeal or fond tradition rise; The cheerful soldier's arms new lustre take. But, saved from death, our Argives yearly pay ROWE. These grateful honours to the god of day. These grateful hoous to the god of day. He fires-the proud tops of the eastern pines, POPE. And darts his light through every guilty hole. Heaven's blest beam turns vinegar more sour. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. How bloodily the sun begins to peer i All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair; Above yon busky hill S SHAKSPEARE. The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air. POPE. When the morning sun shall raise his car Above the border of this horizon, Heaven seems improved with a suIperior ray,. Heaven seems improvec with a superior ray, We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates. And the bright arch reflects a double day. SHAKSIEARE. POPE. The golden sun salutes the morn, Pale suns, unfelt at distance, roll away, And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, And on th' impassive ice the lightnings play. Gallops the zodiac in his glist'ring coach. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. The sacred sun, above the waters raised, King Richard doth appear Through heaven's eternal brazen portals blazed, As doth the blushing discontented sun And wide o'er earth diffused his cheering ray. From out the fiery portal of the east. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Nor was the work impair'd by storms alone, So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not But felt th' approaches of too warm a sun. - To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, POPE.' As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have Thus till the sun had travell'd half the skies, smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down Ambush'd we lie, and wait the bold emprise. The night of dew that on my ceeks down flows; Nor shines the silver moon one-half so bright The sun ne'er views th' uncomfortable seats Through the transparent bosom of the deep, When radiant he advances or retreats. As doth thy face through tears of mine give light. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. SUN. 54T Bring me the fairest creature northward born, I marvel not, 0 sun! that unto thee Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles. In adoration man should bow the knee SHAKSPEARE. And pour the prayer of mingled awe and love; For like a god thou art, and on thy way May never glorious sun reflect his beamsou art, and on thy way Of glory sheddest, with benignant ray, Upon the country where you make abode! SHAKSPEARE. Beauty, and life, and joyance from above. SOUTHEY. The glorious planet Sol, The glorious planet Sol, Now fair Phcebus'gan decline in haste In noble eminence enthroned and sphered His weary wagon to the western vale. Amidst the rest, whose med'cinable eye SPENSER. Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil. SHAKSPEARE. As the great lamp of day Through diff'rent regions does his course pursue, As full of spirit as the month of May, And leaves one world but to revive a new; And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer. While, by a pleasing change, the queen of SHAKSPEARE. night night The sun is in the heaven; and the proud day, Relieves his lustre with a milder light. Attended with the pleasures of the world, STEPNEY. Is all too wanton. EWherever I shine I forward the grass and I ripen the vine. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; SWIFT. In this the heaven figuires some event. So the sun's heat, with different powers, SHAKSPEARE. Ripens the grape, theliquor sours. The glorious sun SWIFT. Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist, It seem'd so hard at first, mother, to leave the Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, blessed sun The meagre, cloddy earth to glittering gold. The meagre, cloddy eath to glittering gold. And now it seems as hard to stay; and yet, His SHAKSPEARE. will be done. The self-same sun that shines upon his court But still I think it can't be long before I find Hides not his visage from our cottage, but release; Looks on both alike. And that good man, the clergyman, has told me SHAKSPEARE. words of peace. TENNYSON: f ew yar~s Eve. The envious clouds are bent To dim his glory and to stain the tract See, how at once the bright effulgent sun, Of his bright passage to the occident. Rising direct, swift chases from the sky SHAKSPEARE. The short-lived twilight, and with ardent blaze Looks gaily fierce through all the dazzling air: The weary sun hath made a golden set,, He mounts his throne; but kind before him And by the bright track of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. sends, Issuing from out the portals of the morn, SHAKSPEARE. The general breeze, to mitigate his fire, When streaming from the eastern skies And breathe refreshment on a fainting world. The morning light salutes my eyes, THOMSON:.Suzmmezr. O Sun of righteousness Divine, Sun of righteousness Divine, But yonder comes the powerful king of day, On me with beams of mercy shine:_ ERejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, Chase the dark clouds of guilt awsayj,. The kindling azure, and the mountain brow, And turn my darkness into day. - And turn my darkness into dy. Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE, JUN.: Daily Duties. Betoken glad. Day dawns, the twilight gleam dilates, THOMSON. The sun comes forth, and, like a god, There sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, Rides through rejoicing heaven. Inhaling healthful the descending sun. SOUTHEY: Thalba. THOMSON. 542 SUiV. -S UPERSTITION.- SYAMPATHIY Attemper'd suns arise, Lull'd by the music's melancholy pow'r, Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid 0 nymph, arise from out thy pearly cave! clouds A pleasing calm. THOMSON. For Hesper beams amid the twilight shade, And soon shall Cynthia tremble o'er the tide, The sun Gleam on these cliffs that bound the ocean's Shakes from his noonday throne the scattering pride, clouds. And lonely silence all the air pervade. THOMSON. Then let thy tender voice at distance suwell, At thy command the vernal sun awakes And steal along this solitary shore, The torpid sap, detruded to the root Sink on the breeze, till dying-heard no By wintry winds. THOMSON. more Thou wak'st the sudden magic of thy shell. The sun hath lost his rage: his downward orb Shoots nothing now but animating warmth While the long coast in echo sweet replies, Anid vital lustre. Thy soothing strains the pensive heart beguile, THOMSON. And bid the vision of the future smile: The downward sun 0 nymph! from out thy pearly cave arise! MRS. RADCLIFFE-: f'o a Setg- XNv1. Looks out effulgent, from amid the flash Of broken clouds. There is one within, THOMSON. Besides the things that we have heard and seen, Who, in the spring, from the new sun Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. SHAKSPEARE. Already has a fever got, Too late begins those shafts to shun Which Phcebus through his veins has shot. WALLER. SYMPATHY. One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine, In the same beaten channel still have run And light us deep into the Deity; The blessed streams of human sympathy; How boundless in magnificence and might! And though I know this ever hath been done, YOUNG: XNso-t Thoughsts. The why and wherefore I could never see: Why some such sorrow for their griefs have won, And some, unpitied, bear their misery, Are mysteries which thinking o'er and o'er SUPERSTITION. Has left me nothing wiser than before. What bitter tears of agony have flow'd Dark power! with shudd'ring, meek, submitted O'er the sad pages of some old romance thought, How Beauty's cheek beneath those drops has Be mine to read the visions old glow'd Which thy awak'ning" bards have told,That climm'd the sparkling lustre of her glance, And, lest they meet my blasted view, And, lest they meet my blasted view, And on some love-sick maiden is bestow'd, Hold each strange tale devoutly true. Or some rejected, hapless knight, perchance, All her deep sympathies, until her moans Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp Stifle the nearer sound of living groans. Oft seen in charnel-vaults and sepulchres, PHCEBE CARY: Symjzalh'y. Ling'ring and sitting by a newv-made grave. No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, MILTON. No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears, Of ae~ry tongues, that syllable men's names Not the bright stars which night's blue arch On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. adorn, MILTON. Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn, O nymph! who lov'st to float on the green wave Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows When Neptune sleeps beneath the moonlight Down virtue's manly cheek for others' woes. hour, DR. DARWIN. SYMfPA THY 543 But since the brain doth lodge the pow'rs of Or sympathy, or some connat'ral force, sense, Pow'rful at greatest distance to unite, How makes it in the heart those passions With secret amity, things of like kind, spring? By secretest conveyance. The mutual love, the kind intelligence MILTON.'Twixt heart and brain, this sympathy doth Long since with woe bring. bring. SJ. DAVIES. Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof SIR J. DAvIES. That fellowship in pain divides not smart, Can kindness to desert like yours be strange? Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. Kindness by secret sympathy is tied; MILTON. For noble souls in nature are ally'd. DRYDEN. So perish all whose breasts ne'er learn'd to glow Diffusive of themselves, where'er they pass For others' good, or melt at others' woe. They make that warmth in others they expect: POPE. Their valour works like bodies on a glass, And does its image on their men project. The soul of music slumbers in the shell DRYDEN. Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, Like the sweet melody which faintly lingersou Upon the'w"ind-harp's strings at close of day, A thousand melodies unheard before. When, gently touch'd by evening's dewy fingers, ROGERS: Human Life. It breathes a low and melancholy lay: So the calm voice of sympathy meseemeth; United by this sympathetic bond, And while its magic spell is round me cast, ou grow familialihimate, and fond. My spirit in its cloistered silence dreameth, ROSCOMMON. And vaguely blends the future with the past. It is the secret sympathy, But vain such dreams while pain my bos n The silver link, the silken tie, thrilleth, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, And mournful memories around me move; In body and in soul cal bind. E'en friendship's alchemy no balm distilleth, SIR W. SCOTT. To soothe th' immedicable wound of love. Let our finger ache, and it endues Alas, alas! passion too soon exhaleth Our other healthful members with a sense The dewy freshness of the heart's young Of pain. flowers; SHAKSPEARE. We water them with tears, but naught availethThey wither on through all life's later hours. The thing of courage, EMMA C. EMBURY: Sjy.u5,ay. As roused with rage, with rage doth sympathize. SHAKSPEARE. Oh! ask not, hope not thou too much Of sympathy below; Yet should some neighbour feel a pain Few are the hearts whence one same touch Just in the parts where I complain, Bids the sweet fountain flow. How many a message would he send! MRS. HEMANS. What hearty prayers that I should mend! Enquire what regimen I kept, But in disparity, What gave me ease, and how I slept? The one intense, the other still remiss, SWIFT. Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove Tedious alike. Oh! who the exquisite delights can tell, MILTON. The joy, which mutual confidence imparts? My heart, which by a secret harmony Or who can-paint the charm unspeakable Still moves with thine, join'd in connection Which links in tender bands two faithful sweet. hearts? MILTON. MRS. TIGHE: Psyche. 544 TALES. —TALK. TALES. Their copious stories, oftentimes begun, Oh, if there were one who loved me- End without audience, and are never done. A kindly and gray-hair'd sire- SHAKSPEARE. To sit and rehearse old stories In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire To-night lby lmly cabin fire, NWith good old folks, and let them tell thee tales The winds as they chose might rattle Of woeful ages, long ago betid. The boughs of the ancient trees: SHAKSPEARE. In the tale of a stirring battle My heart would forget all these. I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days, To th' very moment that he bade me tell it. Or if by the embers dying SHAKSPEARE. We talk'd of the past the while, I should see bright spirits flying The sweetest tales of human weal and sorrow. From the Pyramids and the Nile. The fairest trophies of the limner's fame, AIICE CARY: Old Stories. To my fond fancy, Mary, seem to borrow Celestial halos from thy gentle name: A story in which native humour reigns The Grecian artist glean'd from many faces, Is often useful, always entertains; And in a perfect whole the parts combined: A graver fact, enlisted on your side, So have I counted o'er dear woman's graces May furnish illustration, well applied; To form the Mary of my ardent mind. But sedentary weavers of long tales HENRY T. TUCKERMAN: Maiy. Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails. COWPER. Sweet were the tales she used to tell When summer's eve was dear to us, Could you with patience hear, or I relate, And, fading fiom the darkening dell, 0 nymph! the tedious annals of our fate, The glory of the sunset fell Through such a train of woes if I should run, On wooded Agalleticus,The day would sooner than the tale be done! When, sitting by our cottage wall, DRYDEN. The murmur of the Saco's fall And the south wind's expiring sighs But since you take such int'rest in our woe, An the south wind's expiring sighs And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, Came, softly blending on my ear I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell With the low tones I loved to hear: What in our last and fatal night befell. Tales of the pure-the good-the wiseDRYDEN. The holy men and maids of old, In all the sacred pages told. He whose tale is best, and pleases most, WHITTIER: Mogg IWeg-one. Should win his supper at our common cost. DRYDEN. Call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold. TALK. MILTON. His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul, Reduce, my muse, the wand'ring song: Speak all so movingly in his behalf, A tale should never be too long. I dare not trust myself to hear him talk. PRIOR. ADDISON. My 1tongue hath but a heavier tale to say: Then we talk'd-oh, how we talk'd! her voice, I play the torturer, by small and small, so cadenced in the talking, To lengthen out the word that must be spoken. Made another singing —of the soul! a music SHAKSPEARE. without barsA mirth-moving jest, While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, round where we were walking, Delivers in such apt and gracious words Brought interposition worthy-sweet,-as That aged ears play truant at his tales. skies about the stars. SHAKSPEARE. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Coztrlshiz5. TALK2. 545 When with greatest art he spoke, Snuff, or the fan, supplies each pause of chat; You'd think he talk'd like other folk. With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that. BUTLER: Huidibras. POPE. But still his tongue ran on, the less fhey never taste who always drink: Of weight it bore, with greater ease, They always talk who never think. And with its everlasting clack } PRIOR. Set all men's ears upon the rack. ~BUTLER: Hf~udibras. ~As I listen'd to thee, BUTLER: Hudibras. The happy hours pass'd by us unperceived, And made the stoutest yield to mercy, So was my soul fix'd to the soft enchantment. When he engaged in controversy, ROWE. Not by the force of carnal reason, But indefatigable teasing; It was the copy of our conference: With volleys of eternal babble, In bed, he slept not for my urging it; And clamour more unanswerable. At board, he fed not for my urging it; BUTLER: Hudibras. Alone, it was the subject of my theme; In company, I often glanced it: Unless thou find occasion, hold thy tongue; Still did I tell him it was vile and bad. Thyself or others careless talk may wrong. SHAn SPEARE. SIR J. DENHAM. My lord shall never rest; The time before the fire they sat, I'll watch him tame, and talk him out: And shorten'd the delay by pleasing chat. Ad t b DRYDENpa. His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift DRYDEN. SHAKSPEARE. She stammers; oh, what grace in lisping lies! If she says nothing, to be sure she's wise. Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? DRYDEN. Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field, My ears still ring with noise; I'm vext to death, And heaven's artillery thunder in the sies? Tong d and,ave not yetAnd heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Tongue-kill'd; and have not yet recover'd And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, breath.And do you tell me of a woman's tongue DRYDEN. That gives not half so great a blow to the ear As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire? He who would hear what ev'ry fool could say SHAKSPEARE. Would never fix his thought, but trim his time away. I speak too long; but'tis to piece the time, DRYDEN. To eke it, and to draw it out in length, To stay you from election. Who think too little, and who talk too much. SHAKSPEARE. DRYDEN. I never with important air Talkers are no good doers: be assured In conversation overbear; We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. My tongue within my lips I rein; SHAKSPEARE. For who talks much must talk in vain. GAY: Fables. A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain. He said, SHAKISPEARE. Or right, or wrong, what came into his head. HORACE. Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk! What delight to be by such extoll'd,SHAKSPEARE. To live upon their tongues and be their talk, Of whom to be despised were no small praise The deep of night crept upon or talk. ~M ~ILTON ~. ~SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. Be silent always when you doubt your sense, He left nothing fitting for the purpose And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. Untouch'd, or slightly handled in discourse. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 35 546 TALK. - TASTE. -T EARS. How hard soe'er it be to bridle wit, Oh! he will tell thee, that the wealth of worlds Yet memory oft no less requires the bit. Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego How many, hurried by its force away, That sacred hour when, stealing from the noise Forever in the land of gossips stray! Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes, BENJ. STILLINGFLEET. With virtue's kindest looks, his aching heart, Sets of phrases, cut and dry, And turns his tears to rapture. AKENSIDE. Evermore thy tongue supply. SWIFT. So bright a tear in beauty's eye, She gives her tongue no moment's rest, Love half regrets to kiss it dry. In phrases batter'd, stale, and trite, BYRON. Which modern ladies call polite. Happy places have grown holy: SWIFT. If ye went where once ye went, When nature's end of language is declined, Only tears would fall down slowly, And men talk only to conceal the mind. As at solemn sacrament. YOUNG: Love of Fame. Merry books once read for pastime, If ye dared to read again, Only memories of the last time TASTE. Would swim darkly up the brain; Household names, which used to flutter'What then is taste, but those internal powers Household names, which used to flutter What, then. Through your laughter unawares,-.Active, and strong, and feelingly alive'To each fine impulse? a discerning sense God's divinest ye could utter;Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust With less trembling in your prayers! For things deform'd or disarranged or gross MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Foulf2ld Aspect. In species? This nor gems, nor stores of gold, In species? This nor gems, nor stores of gold, Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not Nor purple state, nor culture, can bestow; More grief than ye can weep for. That is;But God alone, when first his active hand wellImprints the secret bias of the soul. Imprints the secret biasu of the soul. That is light grieving! lighter, none befell AKENSIDE: Pleasures of ozmagifnaion. Since Adam forfeited the primal lot. A taste which plenty does deprave, Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in Loathes lawful good, and lawless ill does crave. its cot, DRYDEN. The mother singing,-at her marriage-bell The bride weeps, —and before the oracle'Taste, that eternal wanderer, which fliess, or Of high-faned hills, the poet has forgot From head to ears, and now from ears to eyes. Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for POPE. grace, Talk as you will of taste, my friend, you'll find Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,'Two of a face, as soon as of a mind. Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place POPE: Inmiations. And touch but tombs,-look up! those tears For what has Virro painted, built, and planted? will run Only to shorwe how many tastes he wanted. Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to waste? And leave the vision clear for star Some demon whisper'd, Visto has a taste. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Tears. POPE: JMora/ Essays. O! too convincing-dangerously dear In woman's eye the unanswerable tear! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, TEARS. To save, subdue,-at once her spear and shield. Ask the faithful youth, Avoid it! virtue ebbs and wisdom errs, Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers! So often fills his arms, so often draws What lost a world, and made a hero fly? His lonely footsteps, at the silent hour, The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye. To pay the mournful tribute of his tears? BYRON. TEARS. 547 What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his I'll hoard up ev'ry moment of my life, chain? To lengthen out the payment of my tears. The tear most sacred shed for others' pain, DRYDEN. That starts at once-bright, pure-from pity's mine, I would cry now, my eyes grow womanish; Already polish'd by the hand divine. But yet my heart holds out. DRYDEN. BYRON: Corsair. For beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile. What precious drops are those CAMPBELL. Which silently each other's track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their infant dew But thou, who own'st that earthy bed, DRYDEN: Conquest of Grnzzada. Ah! what will every dirge avail? Or tears, which love and pity shed, His dauntless heart would fain have held That mourn beneath the gliding sail! From weeping, but his eyes rebell'd. COLLINS: Death of Thomson. DRYDEN. These are not dew-drops; these are tears, His woes broke out, and begg'd relief And tears by Sally shed With tears, the dumb petitioners of grief. For absent Robin, who she fears, DRYDEN. With too much cause, is dead. One morn he came not to her hand, The kind oblation of a falling tear. As he was wont to come, DRYDEN. And, on her finger perch'd, to stand Picking his breakfast-crumb. While his falling tears the stream supplied, Thus mourning to his mother goddess cried. Alarm'd she call'd him, and perplext DRYDEN. She sought him, but in vain: That day he came not, nor the next,- Laughter is easy; but the wonder lies, Nor ever came again. What store of brine supplied the weeper's eyes. COWPER: EpitSapht on a Rea'breastC. DRYDEN. Eyes are vocal, tears have tongues, Eyes are vocal, tears have tongues, Not all her od'rous tears can cleanse her crime: And there be words not made with lungs; The plant alone deforms the happy clime. Sentelntiouis showers! O let them fall! DRYDEN. Their cadence is rhetorical. CRASHAW. Spare my sight the pain No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, Of seeing what a world of tears it costs you. No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears, DRYDEN. Not the bright stars which night's blue arch adorn, Why mourn I not for thee, Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn, And with the southern clouds contend in tears? Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows DRYDEN. Down virtue's manly cheek for others' woes. - DR. DARWIN. Oh! what a timid watch young Love was keeping Some pause and respite only I require, When thou wert fashion'd in such gentle guise! Till with my tears I shall have quench'd my fire. How was thy nature nursed with secret sighs! SIR J. DENHAM. What bitter tears thy mother's heart were steepTears, for a stroke foreseen, afford relief; ing But unprovided for a sudden blow, Within the crystal depth of thy blue eyes Like Niobe we marble grow, A world of troubled tenderness lies sleeping, And petrify with grief. DRYDEN. And on thy full and glowing lip there lies A shadow that portends thee future weeping. Pardon my tears,'tis joy which bids them flow. EMMA C. EMBURY: DRYDEN. Two Portraits from Life. 548 ]TEARS. To see the tears Come, chase that starting tear away Force through her snowy lids their melting Ere mine to meet it springs; course, To-night, at least to-night be gay, To lodge themselves on her red murm'ring lips, Whate'er to-morrow brings. That talk such mournful things; when straight Like sunset gleams, that linger late a gale When all is dark'ning fast, Of starting sighs carry those pearls away, Are hours like those we snatch from hate,As dews by winds are wafted from the flow'rs. The brightest and the last. LEE. Then chase that starting tear, etc. The tear which thou upbraidest, MOORE: Come, CGiase at Starting- Tenr azoa Thy falsehood taught to flow; O Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear, The misery which thou madest, The misery which thou madest, How dark this world would be, Thy cheek hath blighted so: If when deceived and wounded here The charms, alas! that won me, We could not fly to thee! I never can forget: Although thou hast undone me, The friends who in our sunshine live I own I love thee yet. When winter comes are flown; WILLIAM LEGGETT: So.01 And he who has but tears to give I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Must weep those tears alone. Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness; MOORE: God tile Only Comfo;rter. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy How often in the hour victory? Of weariness would I have succour'd thee! I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. But thou didst spurn the power, HENRY FRANCIS LYTE: Eventide. And scorn the heart that loved so tenderly. Denied her sight, he often crept Oh what on earth appears Beneath the hawthorn shade, Beneath the hawthorn sade, To comfort thy distress and heal thy grief, To mark the spot in which she wept- To dry thy itter tears, In which she wept and pray'd. A MALLET. And offer thy poor sinking soul relief? She silently a gentle tear let fall. MRS. ELIZA FANNY MORRIS: MILTON. The Falther's Voice. Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wiped The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears, them soon. Less pleasing far than virtue's very tears. MILTON. POPE. Two other precious drops, that ready stood Muse! at that name thy sacred sorrows shed; Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, Those tears eternal that embalm the dead. Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse, POPE. And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. Desires composed, affections ever ev'n, MILTON. Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to heav'n. She weeps, and words address'd seem tears dis- POPE. solved, solvWetting the orders of her silken veil. Take these tears, mortality's relief, etting the borders of her silken veil. And, till we share your joys, forgive our grief. POPE. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, But why, ah, tell me, ah too dear! bThe upw~\rard glancing of an eye iSteals down my cheek th' involuntary tear? The upward glancing of an eye POPE When none but God is near. JAMES MONTGOMERY: Prayer. Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow, Blest tears of soul-felt penitence! Led through a sad variety of woe. POPE. In whose benign, redeeming flow I, felt the first, the only sense Patient permit the sadly-pleasing strain: Of guiltless joy that guilt may know! Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain. MOORE: Lalfa Rookh. POPE. TEARS. 549 Before her face her handkerchief she spread, The sage's and the poet's theme, To hide the flood of tears she did not shed. In every clime, in every age; POPE. Thou charm'st in Fancy's idle dream, Oh name forever sad, forever dear! In Reason's philosophic page. Still breathed in sighs, still usher'd with a tealr. POPE. That very law which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, A melancholy tear affects my eye; A melanchol tea affects mThat law preserves the earth a sphere, And my heart labours with a sudden sigh. That law pres the earth a sphere, PRIOR. And guides the planets ill their course. SAMUEL ROGERS: Onz a Tear. That eye dropp'd sense distinct and clear As any muse's tongue could speak; Her tears her only eloquence. When from its lid a pearly tear ROGERS: 7acqvieine. Ranl trickling down her beauteous cheek. With a shriek heart-wounding loud she cried, PRIOR. While down her cheeks the gushing torrents The gods shall to his vot'ries tell Each conscious tear, each blushing grace Fast falling on her hands. That deck'd dear Eloisa's face. ROWE. PRIOR. She never sees the sun but through her tears, By his distolrtions he reveals his pains; And wakes to sigh the livelong nights away. He by his tears and by his sighs complains. ROWE: anle Shore. PRIOR. Happy they who reach that place,- My cheeks are gutter'd with my fretting tears. In those regions find their home; SANDYS. Tears are wiped from every face; Toil ad danger nevery come. The rose is fairest when'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from They no pain nor sorrow know,f Ransom'd from this world of woe. fears; The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, To that festival on high, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in To that banquet of the skies, tears. To that glorious company, SCOTT: Lady of /he Lake. May we all at length arise; Mingle with the joyful throng, Like envious floods o'errun her lovely face, join the everlasting song. DR.nthe everlastHOM RAFFLES:naShe was the fairest creature in the world. DR. THOMAS RAFFLES: Marrziage. SHAKSPEARE. Oh that the chemist's magic art Shall we play the wantons with our woes, Could crystallize this sacred treasure! And make some pretty match with shedding Long should it glitter near my heart, tears? A secret source of pensive pleasure. SHAKSPEARE. The little brilliant, ere it fell, If that the earth could teem with woman's Its lustre caught from Chloe's eye; tears, Then, trembling, left its coral cell- Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. The spring of Sensibility! SHAKSPEARE. Sweet drop of pure and pearly light, I did not think to shed a tear In thee the rays of Virtue shine; In all my-miseries; but thou hast forced me More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Than any gem that gilds the mine. SHAKSPEARE. Benign restorer of the soul! But for my tears, Who ever fliest to bring relief The moist impediments unto my speech, When first we feel the rude control I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke. Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief. SHAKSPEARE. 550 TEARS. Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Moist it again; and frame some feeling line, Shall come again transform'd to orient pearl; That may discover such integrity. Advantaging their loan with interest, SHAKSPEARE. Oftentimes double gain of happiness. SHAKSPEARE. I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses. Like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, SHAKSPEARE. And water once a day her chamber round Give me thy hand, With eye-offending brine. That I may dew it with my mournful tears. SHAKSPEARE, SHAIKSPEARE. Then, fresh tears Thy sight, which should Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey dew Make our eyes flow with joy, Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. Constrains them weep. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, One whose eyes, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting Albeit unused to the melting mood, With forms to his conceit. Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees SHARSPEARE. Their medicinal gum. SHAKSPEARE. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast; Her s will hea Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops. Her tears will pierce into a marble heart. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. So came I a widow; Many a morning hath he there been seen, So came I a widow; And never shall have length of life enough With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew. And never shall have length of ife enough SHAKSPEARE. To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes. SHAKSPEARE. Let us seek some desolate shade, and there This napkin, with his true tears all bewet, Weep our sad bosoms empty. SHAKSPEARE. Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. SHAKSPEARE. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,- And now and then an ample tear trill'd down And now and then an ample tear trill'd down For villany is not without such rheum; Her delicate cheek. And he, long traded in it, makes it seem SHAISPEARE. Like rivers of remorse and innocency. SHAKSPEARE. Touch me with noble anger! 0 let not women's weapons, water-drops, This distemper'd messenger of wet, Stain lly man's cheeks. The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eyes. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEA RE. I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Let me wipe off this honourable dew Commonly are; the want of which vain dew That silverly doth progress on my cheeks. Perchance shall dry your pities; but I have SHAKSPEARE. That honourable grief lodged here which burns Worse than tears drown. Can you behold SHAISPEARE. My tears, and not once relent? SHAKSPEARE. My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, Being an ordinary inundation; Tears had dimm'd the lustre of her starry eyes. But this effusion of such manly drops, SHAKSPEARE. This show'r, blown up by tempest of the soul, And if the boy have not a woman's gift, Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed To rain a shower of commanded tears, Than had I seen the vaulty top of heav'n An onion will do well for such a shift! Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. TEARS. 551I A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears; Her cheeks, on which this streaming nectarfell, Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd. Still'd through the limbec of her diamond eyes. SHAKSPEARE. TASSO, by FAIRFAX. Neither deep groans nor silver-shedding tears My guiltless blood must quench the ceaseless Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire. fire SHAKSPEARE. 1On which my endless tears were bootless spent. Heav'n's cherubim, horsed TASSO, by FAIRFAX. Upon the sightless coursers of the air, Where none attends, what boots it to complain? Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye, Men's froward hearts are moved with women's That tears shall drown the wind. tears, SHAKSPEARE. As marble stones are pierced with drops of rain: Heav'n, that knows No plaints find passage through unwilling ears. The weakness of our natures, will forgive, TASso, by FAIRFAX. Nay, must applaud, love's debt, when decent paid;, ~~Tears, idle tears, —I know not what they mean,Nor can the bravest mortal blame the tear Tears from the depth of some divine despair Nor can the bravest mortal blame the tear Which glitters on the bier of fallen worth. Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, SHIRLEY: Parricide. In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Oh for the robes of whiteness! TENNYSON: The Princess. Oh for the tearless eyes! Oh for the glorious brightness As through the land at eve we went, Of the unclouded skies! And pluck'd the ripen'd ears, We fell out, my wife and I,Oh for the no more weeping O, we fell out, I know not why,Within the land of love, Tee.ndesjo fk' And kiss'd again with tears. The endless joy of keeping The bridal feast above! For when we came where lies the child CHARITIE LEES SMITH: We lost in other years, Heavenly Anticipations. There above the little graveMourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn 0, there above the little graveThy banish'd peace, thy laurels torn! We kiss'd again with tears. Thy sons, for valour long renown'd, TENNYSON: The Princess. Lie slaughter'd on their native ground; Come not, when I am dead, Thy hospitable roofs no more To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, Invite the stranger to the door; To trample round my fallen To trample round my fallen head, In smoky ruins sunk they lie, In smoky ruins sunk they lie, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not The monuments of cruelty. save. SMOLLETT: Tears of Scotland. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; Your tears, a heart of flint But thou, go by. Might tender make. SPENSER. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest; Now forced to overflow with brackish tears,, The troublous noise did dull their dainty ears. And I desire to rest. SPENSER. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Her heart did melt in great compassion, Go by, go by. And drizzling tears did shed for pure affection. TENNYSON: SPENSER.'" Come ]Not when I am Dead." No briny tear has furrow'd her smooth cheek. Tears of the widower, when he sees SIR J. SUCKLING. A late-lost form that sleep reveals, Endless tears flow down in streams. And moves his doubtful arm, and feels SWIFT. Her place is empty, fall like these, 55 2 TEARS. - TEMP TA T IOV. Which weep a loss forever new, Amidst the roaring of the sea, A void where heart on heart reposed, My soul still hangs her hope on thee; And where warm hands have press'd and Thy constant love, thy faithful care, closed Is ail that saves me from despair. Silence, till I be silent too. COWPER: Tellptation. TENNYSON:.nz HeJzorian. So fatal'twas to seek temptation out! The modest virtues mingled in her eyes, Most confidence has still most cause to doubt. Still on the ground dejected, darting all DRYDEN. Their humid beams into the opening flowers; Or wesht'Tis wisdom to beware, Or when she thought And better shun the bait than struggle in the Of what her faithless fortune promised once, They, like the dewy star DRYDEN. Of evening, shone in tears. THOMSON. Th' encroaching ill you early should oppose: Flatter'd,'tis worse, and by indulgence grows. How came her eyes so bright? not with salt DRYDEN. tears? If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers. To shun th' allurement is not hard WALLER. To minds resolved, forewarn'd, and well prepared; To this great loss a sea of tears is due; But wondrous difficult, when once beset, But the whole debt not to be paid by you. To struggle through the straits, and break th' WNALLER. involving net. DRYDEN. Madam, persuade me tears are good To wash our mortal cares away,- So tempt they him, and emulously vie These eyes shall weep a sudden flood, To bribe a voice that empires would not buy. And stream into a briny sea. GRANVILLE. Or if these orbs are hard and dry Though temptations round thy path (These orbs that never use to rain), Lift their serpent-heads in wrath,Some star direct mne where to buy Though the heavy tear-drops start, One sov'reign drop for all my pain. Whilst the cloud is on thy heart,Though thy hope sends not a glance Were both the golden Indies mine, From his hidden countenance,I'd give both Indies for a tear: Jesus can thy trials see: I'd barter all but what's divine: He was tempted once like thee. Nor shall I think the bargain dear. MARY ANNE GRAY: Lookinzg unto yesus. But tears, alas! are trifling things; They rather feed than heal our wvoe; I need thy presence every passing hour; What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power? From trickling eyes new sorrow springs, As weeds i~n rainy seasons grow. Who like thyself my guide and stay can be? DR. ISAAC WATTS: Against Tears. Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE: Eventide. Ah! there the wild tempest forever shall cease, TEMPTATION. No billow shall ruffle that haven of peace: Temptation and trouble alike shall depart,The billows swell, the winds are high, All tears from the eye, and all sin from the Clouds overcast my wintry sky; heart. Out of the depths to thee I call,- HENRY FRANCIS LYTE: My fears are great, my strength is small. Saint's Aspirations. O Lord, the pilot's part perform, Evil into the mind And guard and guide me through the storm; May come and go, so unapproved, and leave Defend me from each threatening ill; No spot or blame behind. Control the waves; say, "Peace! be still." MILTON. TEMP TA TIO. — THO UGHT. 553 Stand fast; and all temptation to transgress When devils will their blackest sins put on, repel. They do suggest at first with heav'nly shows. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. Secure of outward force, within himself They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, The danger lies, yet lies within his pow'r: The devil their virtue tempts not, they tempt Against his will he can receive no harm. heav'n. MILTON. SHAKSPEARE. With manlier objects we must try For now the devil, that told me I did well, His constancy, with such as have more show Says that this deed is chronicled in hell. Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise: SHAKSPEARE. Rocks whereon greatest men have often wreck'd. Thou temptest me in vain To tempt the thing which daily yet I rue, A grove hard by sprung up with this their And the old cause of my continued pain change, With like attempts to like end to renew. (His will, who reigns above!) to aggravate SPENSER. Their penance; laden with fruit, like that Plead, when the tempter's art Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve, To each fond hope of mine Used by the tempter. Used by the tempter. Denies this faithless heart MILTON. Can e'er be thine. He, glad If slander whisper, too, Of her attention, gain'd with serpent tongue, The sin I never knew, His fraudulent temptation thus began. Thou who wouldst urge the true, MILTON. Plead thou my cause. I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, SAMUEL MILLER WARING: Who, with a grain of manhood well resolved, Plad Thou My Cause. Might easily have shook off all her snares. Jesu, lover of my soul, MILTON. Let me to thy bosom fly,' While the nearer waters roll, What is faith, love, virtue, unassay'd, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high: Alone, without exterior help sustain'd? MILTON. Hide me, 0 my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; If you're idle, you're destroy'd; Safe into the haven guide, All his force on you he tries: Oh, receive my soul at last. Be but watchful and employ'd, Soon the baffled tempter flies. Other refuge have I none, MOTTEUX. Hangs my helpless soul on thee; Leave, ah, leave me not alone, Nor be with all these tempting words abused; Still support and comfort me: Those tempting words were all to Sappho used. All my trust on thee is stay'd; POPE. All my help from thee I bring; The devil was piqued such saintship to behold, Cover my defenceless head And long'd to tempt himi. ~With the shadow of thy wing. POPE. CHARLES WESLEY: In 7'emtltaion. Most dangerous Is that temptation that doth goad us on To sin in loving virtue. THOUGHT. SHAKSPEARE. Who can mistake great thoughts? The instruments of darkness tell us truths; They seize upon the mind; arrest, and search, Win us with honest trifles to betray us And shake it; bow the tall soul as by wind; In deepest consequence. Rush over it like rivers over reeds, SHAKSPEARE. Which quaver in the current; turn us cold, 554 SHO UGHT. — -UNDER. And pale, and voiceless; leaving in the brain Various discussions tear our heated brain: A rocking and a ringing,-glorious, Opinions often turn, still doubts remain; But momentary; madness might it last, And who indulges thought, increases pain. And close the soul with Heaven as with a seal. PRIOR. PHILIP JAMES BAILEY: Great Thoughzs. In the remotest wood and lonely grot, Thought, to the man that never thinks, may Certain to meet that worst of evils, thought. seem PRIOR. As natural as when asleep to dream; BAs natural a(foms when asleep to dream; And cards are dealt, and chessboards brought, But reveries (for human minds will act), Specious in show, impossible in fact, To ease the pain of coward thought. Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, Attain not to the dignity of thought; Thus with imagined wings our swift scene flies, Nor yet the swarms that occupy the brain In motion with no less celerity Where dreams of dress, intrigue, and pleasure Than that of thought. reign. SHAKSPEARE. COWPER: Retiremenet. Hast thou no friend to set thy mind abroach? I scarcely understand my own intent, Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts, shut up, But, silk-worm like, so long within have wrought, want air, That I am lost in my own web of thought. And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun. DRYDEN. YOUNG. So truly, faithfully, my heart is thine, Thought in the mind may come forth gold or Dear Thought! that when I am debarr'd from dross; thee When coin'd in words, we know its real worth. By the vain tumult of vain company, YOUNG. And when it seems to be the fix'd design Of heedless hearts, who never can incline Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Themselves to seek thy rich though hidden Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon; charms, And put good works on board; and wait the To keep me daily from thy outstretch'd arms,- wind My soul sinks faint within me, and I pine That shortly blows us into worlds unknown. As lover pines when from his love apart, YOUNG. Who, after having been long loved, long sought, At length has given to his persuasive art Her generous soul with hope and fear full THUNDER. fraught: For thou'rt the honor'd mistress of my heart, See where it smokes along the sounding plain, Pure, quiet, bountiful, beloved Thought. Blown all aslant, a driving dashing rain; -CAROLINE MAY: Thou,6gh. Peal upon peal, redoubling all around, Shakes it again and faster to the ground; Thus Bethel spoke, who always speaks his Now flashing wide, now glancing as in play, thought, * Swift beyond thought the lightnings dart away: And always thinks the very thing he ought. Ere yet it came, the traveller urged his steed, POPE. And hurried, but with unsuccessful speed; Now drench'd throughout, and hopeless of his Search for some thoughts, thy own suggesting case, case, Andoemindr, ditaedbyhavnl pw', He drops the rein, and leaves him to his pace. And others, dictated by heav'nly pow'r,COWPER: Tt. Shall rise spontaneous. PoPE. For weeks the clouds had raked the hills One only couplet, fraught And vex'd the vales with raining, With some unmeaning thing they call a thought. And all the woods were sad with mist, POPE. And all the brooks complaining. TIME. 555 At last a sudden night-storm tore That with sharp line divided the broad disc The mountain-veils asunder, Of Egypt's sun, down to the sands was cast; And swept the valleys clean before And where these stood, no remnant trophy The besom of the thunder. stands; WHITTIER. And even the art is lost by which they rose: Thus, with the monuments of other lands, The place that knew them now no longer TIME. knows. WVhat does not fade? The tower that long had Yet triumph not, 0 Time; strong towers decay, stood But a great name shall never pass away! The crush of thunder and the warring winds, PARK BENJAMIN: A Great name. Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time,, 0 Time, who know'st a lenient hand to lay Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its base, Now angs in doubtful ruins o'er its ase, Softest on sorrow's wounds, and slowly And flinty pyramids and walls of brass thence Descend. - DR. JOHN ARMSTRONG: (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) Wrecks and Mutations of Time. The faint pang stealest unperceived away: On thee I rest my only hopes at last, Still thinking I had little time to live, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter My fervent heart to win men's souls did strive; tear I preach'd as never sure to preach again, That flows in vain o'er all my hope holds And as a dying man to dying men! dear, RICHARiD BAXTER: I may look back on many a sorrow past, True and False Preac/hers. And greet life's peaceful evening with a smile: Time flows from instants, and of these each one As some lone bird, at day's departing hour, Should he esteem'c as if it were alone: Sings in the sunshine of the transient shower, The shortest space, which we so highly prize Forgetful though its wings be wet the while. When it is coming, and before our eyes, But, ah! what ills must that poor heart endure Let it but slide into th' eternal main, Who hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure? WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES: To Time. No realms, no worlds, can purchase it again: Remembrance only makes the footsteps last, O Time! the fatal wrack of mortal things, When winged time, which fix'd the prints, is past. That draws oblivion's curtains over kings: SIR JOHN BEAUMONT. Their sumptuous monuments, men know them Why slander we the times? not; What crimes I Their names without a Record are forgot. Have days and years, that we Their parts, their posts, their pomps, all laid in Thus charge them with iniquity? th' dust, If we would rightly scan, Nor wit, nor gold, nor buildings'scape Time's It's not the times are bad, but man. rust: But he whose name is graved in the white stone If thy desire it be Shall last and shine when all of these are gone. To see ANNE BRADSTREET: ContenOiLations. The times prove good, be thou But such thyself, and surely know Time! Time! in thy triumphal flight That all thy days to thee How all life's phantoms fleet away; Shall, spite of mischief, happy be. The smile of hope, and young delight, DR. JOSEPH BEAUMONT: OriaginalPoems. Fame's meteor beam, and Fancy's ray: They fade; and on the heaving tide, Time! thou destroyest the relics of the past, o Rolling its stormy waves afar, And hidest all the footprints of thy marche the wreck of human pride, Are borne the wreck of human pride, On shatter'd column and on crumbled arch, By moss and ivy growing green and fast. Hurl'd into fragments by the tempest blast, There, in disorder dark and wild, The Rhodian monster lies; the obelisk, Are seen the fabrics once so high, 556 TIME. Which mortal vanity had piled Though each resemble each in every part, As emblems of eternity, A difference strikes at length the musing heart: And deem'd the stately piles, whose forms Streams never flow in vain; where streams Frown'd in their majesty sublime, abound, Would stand unshaken by the storms How laughs the land, with various plenty That gather'd round the brow of Time. crown'd! JAMES GORDON BROOKS: But time, that should enrich the nobler mind, To the Dying Year. Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind. COWPER: _4 Comparison. The beautifier of the dead, Adorner of the ruin, comforter No, no; unsparing Time will proudly send And only healer when the heart hath bled,- A warrant unto Wrath, that with one frown Time! the corrector when our judgments err, Will all these mockeries of vain-glory rend, The test of truth, love; sole philosopher; And make them (as before) ungraced, unFor all beside are sophists. known: BYRON. Poor idle honours, that can ill defend Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? Your memories, that cannot keep their own! It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine DANIEL: lJ/Mtsop/iluzs. Have made my days and nights imperishable, We, that measure time by first and last, Endless and all alike. BYRON: Manfred. The sight of things successively do take; When God on all at once his view doth cast, Touch us gently, Time! ~ And of all times doth but one instant make. Let us glide adown thy stream SIR J. DAVIES. Gently,-as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream! But old god Saturn, which doth all devour, Humble voyagers are We, Doth cherish her, and still augments her might. Husband, wife, and children three- SIR J. DAVIES. (One is lost, -an angel, fled Time glides with undiscover'd haste; To the azure overhead!) The future but a length behind the past. Touch us gently, Time! DRYDEN. We've not proud nor soaring wings; And now time's whiter series is begun, Our ambition, our content, Which in soft centuries shall smoothly run. Lies in simple things: DRYDEN. Humble voyagers are We O'er life's dim unsounded sea, She shakes the rubbish from her mounting brow, Seeking only some calm clime: And seems to have renew'd her charter's date, Touch us gently, gentle Time! BARRY CORNWALL (BRYAN W. PROCTER). Oh, if venerable time Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop, Slain at the foot of pleasure be no crime, Nor do his wings with sickly feathers droop. Then, with his silver beard and magic wand, DRYDEN. Let Comus rise Archbishop of the land; Time is lost, which never will renew, Let him your rubric and your feasts prescribe, Time is lost, which never will renew, Grand metropolitan of all the tribe. While we too far the pleasing path pursue, Grand metropolitan of all the tribe. Surveying nature. COWPER: ~Progress aof Error. DRYDEN. The lapse of time and rivers is the same; Then down the precipice of time it goes, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; And sinks in minutes which in ages rose. The silent pace with which they steal away, DRYDEN. No wealth can bribe, no prayers persuade to stay; For sepulchres themselves must crumbling fall Alike irrevocable both when past, In time's abyss, the common grave of all. And a wide ocean swallows both at last. DRYDEN. TIME. 557 But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Rich with the spoils of Time, did ne'er Through days of death and days of birth, unroll; Through every swift vicissitude Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage, Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, And froze the genial current of the soul. And as if, like God, it all things saw, GRAY: Elegy. It calmly repeats those words of awe"Forever!-never! Time! where didst thou those years inter Never! forever!" Which I have seene decease? LONGFELLOW: Ol/a Clock on the Stairs. My soule's at war, and truth bids her Finde out their hidden sepulcher, Art is long, and Time is fleeting, To give her troubles peace. And our hearts, though stout and brave, W. HABINGTON. Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. Poor Banckrout conscience! where are those H. W. LONGFELILOW: Psalnz of Life. Rich houres but farm'd to thee? How carelessly I some did lose, Time, the prime minister of death, And others to my lust dispose, There's naught can bribe his honest will; As no rent-day should be! He stops the richest tyrant's breath, W. HABINGTON. And lays his mischief still. MARVELL. The present point of time is all thou hast: The future doubtful, and the former past. With what a leaden and retarding weight HARTE. Does expectation load the wing of time! Gather ye rose-buds while ye may; MASON: AI4irida. Old Time is still a-flying; Fly, envious time, And this same flower that smiles to-day, Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, To-morrow will be dying. Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace. HERRICK: To the Virgins. MILTON. Wait thou for Time: the slow-unfolding flower Time, though in eternity, applied Chides man's impatient haste with long delay; To motion, measures all things durable The harvest ripening in the autumnal sun, By present, past, and future. The golden fruit of Suffering's weighty power, MILTON. Within the soul like soft bells' silvery chime Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er, Repeat the tones: if fame may not be won, To leave her lovelier than before. Or if the heart where thou shouldst find a shrine MOORE. Breathe forth no blessing on thy lonely way,- Old Time, who changes all below, To wean men gently for the grave, Wait thou for Time: it hath a sorcerer's powe Hath brouht us no increase of woe, Hath brought us no increase of woe, To dim life's mockeries that gayly shine, And leaves us all he ever gave: To lift the veil of seeming from the real, For I am still a helpless thing, Bring to thy soul a rich or fearful dower, Write golden tracery on the sands of life, A hou art she wose beauty's spring And raise the drooping heart from scenes ideal The'blind man vainly yean'd to see! The blind man vainly yearn'd to see! To a high purpose in the world of strife: Wait thou for Time! MRS. NORTON: LUCY HOOPER: " Timne, Faith, Energy." Te Blind Man to his Bride. E'en times are in perpetual flux, and run Years, following years, steal something every Like rivers from their fountains, rolling on: day; Like rivers from their fountains, rolling on: dt last they;steal us fi-om ourselvesa For time, no more than streams, is at a stay; At last they steal us from ourselves away. The flying hour is ever on her way; HORACE. The flying hour is ever on her way; And as the fountains still supply their store, The vicious count their years; virtuous, their The wave behind impels the wave before; acts. Thus in successive course the minutes run, DR. S. JOHNSON. And urge their predecessor minutes on, 558 TI5E. Still moving ever new: for former things "Linger," I cried, "0 radiant Time! thy power Are laid aside, like abdicated kings; Has nothing more to give; life is complete: And every moment alters what is done, Let but the perfect Present, hour by hour, And innovates some act till then unknown. Itself remember and itself repeat. OviD. ID. And love,-the future can but mar its splenI no more complain: dour, Time, health, and fortune are not lost in vain. Change can but dim the glory of its youth; POPE. Time has no star more faithful or more tender Ev'n a romance, a tune, a rhyme, To crown its constancy or light its truth." Help thee to pass the tedious time, Help thee to pass the tedious time, But Time pass'd on, in spite of prayer or pleadWhich else would on thy hand remain; ing Though flown, it ne'er looks back again. Tohfwtnelosa aThrough storm and peril; but that life might PRIOR. gain gain Linger, O gentle Time, Linger, 0radia gentle Time, ofbrightto-day A Peace through strife all other peace exceedLinger, O radiant grace of bright to-day! ing Let not the hours' chime g, Fresh joy from sorrow, and new hope from Call thee away, pain. But linger near me still with fond delay. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Pcst anzd Presenzt. Linger, for thou art mine! What dearer treasures can the future hold? I wept that all must die What sweeter flowers than thine" Yet Love," I cried, " oth live, and conquer death"Can she unfold? death" What secrets tell my heart thou hast not told? And Time pass'd by, ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: And breathed on Love, and kill'd it with his Linger, 0 Gentle Time. breath, Ere death was nigh. Now Time has fled-the world is strange, More bitter far than all Something there is of pain and change; Mey books lie closed upon my shelf: It was to know that Love could change and I miss the old heart in myself. e Hush! for the ages call, I miss the sunbeams in my room — " The love of God lives through eternity, It was not always wrapp'd in gloom: And conquers all " I miss my dreams-they fade so fast, ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: T7rianp/z of Time. Or flit into some trivial past. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: A Stdeent. Even such is time, that takes on trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, Shine, ye stars of heaven, And pays us but with age and dust; On a world of fear! Who in the dark and silent grave, See how Time, avenging, When we have wander'd all our ways, Bringeth judgment here: Shuts up the story of our days! Weaving ill-won honours SIR W. RALEIGH. To a fiery crown; Bidding hard hearts perish; Time sensibly all things impairs; Casting proud hearts down. Our fathers have been worse than theirs, And we than ours; next age will see Shine, ye stars of heaven, On the hours' slow flight! A race more profligate than we, On the hours' slow flight! With all the pains we take, have skill enough See how Time, rewarding, Gilds good deeds with light; to RoscoIoN. Pays with kingly measure; Brings earth's dearest prize; The greatest schemes that human wit can forge Or, crown'd with rays diviner, Or bold ambition dares to put in practice, Bids the end arise! Depend upon our husbanding a moment. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Shzining Stars. ROWE. TIME. 559 Why sitt'st thou by that ruin'd hall, Make glad and sorry seasons, as thou fleets, Thou aged carle so stern and gray? And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, Dost thou its former pride recall, To the wide world, and all her fading sweets; Or ponder how it pass'd away? But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow, " Know'st thou not me?" the Deep Voice cried,, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; "So long enjoy'd, so oft misusedAlternate, in thy fickleprideHim in thy course untainted do allow, Alternate, in thy fickle pride, Dlteirnte, ineglictled andaued?, For beauty's pattern to succeeding men. Desired, neglected, and accused? Befored, myebreath,like bazng flaxu Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy Before my breath, like blazing flax,, Man and his marvels pass away, wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young. And changing empires wane and wax, SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet XIX. Are founded, flourish, and decay. "Redeem mine hours-the space is brief Against my love shall be, as I am now, While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erAnd measureless thy joy or grief worn; When Time and thou shalt part forever." When hours have drain'd his blood, and fill'd SIR WALTER SCOTT: T/ze AiLiquany. his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful Time is like a fashionable host, morn That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night; hand, And all those beauties, whereof now he's king, But with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Are vanishing or vanish'd out of sight, Grasps in the comer: Welcome ever smiles, Stealing away the treasure of his spring; And Farewell goes out sighing. For such a time do I now fortify. SHAKSPEARE. Against confounding age's cruel knife, The fly-slow hours shall not determinate That he shall never cut from memory The dateless limit of thy dear exile. My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life: SHAKSPEARE. His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, And they shall live, and he in them still Meeting with Time, Slack thing, said I,green. Thy scythe is dull; whet it for shame. t SHAKSPEARE: SonnZet LXII. SHAKSPEARE. When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced Experience is by industry achieved, The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; And perfected by the Swift course of time. When sometimes lofty towers I see down-razed, SHAISPEARE. And brass eternal, slave to mortal rage; Let's take the instant by the forward top; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of time And the firm soil win of the wat'ry main,,SCteals, ere we can effect them. Increasing store with loss, and loss with store: SHAKSPEARE. When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Come what come may, Ruin hath taught me thus t6 ruminateTime and the hour run through the roughest day. That Time will come and take my love away. SHARKSPEARE. This thought is as a death, which cannot The end crowns all; choose And that old common arbitrator, time, But weep to have that which it fears to lose. Will one day end it. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet LXIV. SHAKSPEARE. No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, change: And make the earth devourher own sweet brood; Thy pyramids built up with newer. might Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood; They are but dressings of a former sight. 560 TIM-E. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire How swift the years! how great the chain What thou dost foist upon us that is old; That drags along our slight to-day! And rather make them born to our desire, Before that sound returns again, Than think that we before have heard them told. The present will have stream'd away, Thy registers and thee I both defy, And all our world of busy strength Not wondering at the present nor the past; Will dwell in calmer halls of time, For thy records and what we see doth lie, And then with joy will own at length, Made more or less by thy continual haste: Its course is fix'd, its end sublime. This I do vow, and this shall ever be, JOHN STERLING: The Ages. I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet CXXIZL. Oh! a wonderful stream is the river Time, As it runs through the realm of tears, Shun delays, thytimey breed remorslee; With a faultless rhythm, and a musical rhyme, Take thy time while time is lent thee; And a broader sweep, and a surge sublime, Creeping snails have weakest force, As it blends in the ocean of years! Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee. B. F. TAYLOR. Good is best when soonest wrought; Linger'd labours come to naught. Come, Time, and teach me many years I do not suffer in a dream; Time wears all his locks before; ime ears all his locks before; For now so strange do these things seem, Take thy hold upon his forehead; e h l uns ore, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears. When he flies, he turns no more, TENNYSON: ])z JMfemo-zctm. And behind his scalp is naked. Works adjourn'd have many stays; Their only labour was to kill the time; Long demurs breed new delays. And labour dire it was, and weary woe: SOUTHWELL: Loss in Delay. They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme; The lopped tree in. time may grow again, Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; Or saunter forth, with tottering steps and slow: The sorriest wight may find release of pain, This soon too rude an exercise they find; The driest soil suck in some moistening shower: Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw, Time goes by turns, and chances change by Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclined, course, And court the vapoury god soft-breathing in the From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. wind. THOMSON: Castle of IJzdolence. Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring, No endless night, yet not eternal day; Yes, gentle Time, thy gradual, healing hand The saddest birds a season find to sing, Hath stolen from sorrow's grasp the envenom'd The roughest storm a calm may soon allay: dart; Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all, Submitting to thy skill, my passive heart That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall. Feels that no grief can thy soft power withstand. SOUTHWELL: Times Go by Turns. MRS. TIGHE. Too late I stay'd-forgive the crime: The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Unheeded flew the hours: Lets in new light through chinks that time has How noiseless falls the foot of Time made. That only treads on flowers! WALLER. HON. W. R. SPENCER. Our time consumes like smoke, and posts away; How swiftly pass a thousand years! Nor can awe treasure up a month or day: And chivalry and faith are strong; The sand within the transitory glass And through devotion's humble tears Doth haste, and so our silent minutes pass. Is seen high help for earthly wrong: R. WATKYNS. Fair gleams the cross with mystic light Beneath an arch of woven gloom, Desire not to live long, but to live well; The burgher's pledge of civil right, How long we live, not years, but actions, tell. The sign that marks the monarch's tomb. R. WATKYNS. TIME.- TO- VORR OW. — TRANSIA 771ON. 56 Thus while I wondering pause o'er Shakspeare's TO-MORROW. page, Seek not to know to-morrow's doom; I mark in visions of delight the sage, That is not ours which is to come. High o'er the wrecks of man, who stand sub- The present moment's all our store: lime, The next should heaven allow, A column in the melancholy waste Then this will be no more: (Its cities humbled, and its glories past), So all our life is but one instant now. Majestic'mid the solitude of time. CONGREVE. WOLCOTT: To my Candle. To-day is ours: why do we fear? Naught treads so silent as the foot of time: To-day is ours fo o r. lTo-day is ours: we have it here: Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime. Let's banish bus'ness, banish sorrow: YOUNG. To the gods belongs to-morrow. While I a moment name, a moment's past; COWLEY. I'm nearer death in this verse than the last. Our yesterday's to-morrow now is gone, What then is to be done? Be wise with speed: And still a new to-morrow does come on. A fool at forty is a fool indeed. YTOUNG. We by to-morr-ows draw out all our store, Till the exhausted well can yield no more. Each moment has its sickle, emulous COWLEY. Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root: each moment To-morrow you will live, you always cry: plies In what far country does this morrow lie, His little weapon in the narrower sphere That'tis so mighty long ere it arrive? Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down Beyond the Indies does this morrow live? The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss.'Tis so far-fetch'd, this morrow, that I fear YOUNG.'Twill be both very old and very dear. Time wasted is existence, used is life. To-morrow I will live, the fool does say: YOUNG: Nighi Thoug/hts. To-day itself's too late; the wise lived yesterday. Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, MARTIAL. And seems to creep decrepit with his age; To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Behold him when past by: what then is seen, Creeps in this petty space from day to day, But his broad pinions swifter than the winds? To the last syllable of recorded time; And all mankind in contradiction strong, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools Rueful, aghast, cry out on his career. The way to dusty death. YOUNG: iVz,(rht Thoztu lIts. SHAKSPEARE. Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor: In human hearts what bolder thoughts can rise Part with it as with money, sparing; pay Than man's presumption on to-morrowr's dawn r No moment but in purchase of its worth; Where is to-morrow? In another world: And what it's worth, ask death-beds: they can For numbers this is certain; the reverse tell! Is sure to none; and yet on this " perhaps," YOUNG: Zigzist T/ouZghits. This " peradventure," infamous for lies, Procrastination is the thief of time; As on a rock of adamant, we build Year after year it steals, till all are fled, Our mountain hopes. And to the mercies of a moment leaves YOUNG: Nz'gzt Thoughts. The vast concerns of an eternal scene. YOUNG: N/ghit Thoungits. O Time! than gold more sacred; more a load TRANSLATION. Than lead to fools, and fools reputed wise. What moment granted man without account? This selected piece, which you translate, What years are squander'd, wisdom's debt un- Foretells your studies may communicate, paid! From darker dialect of a strange land, Our wealth in days all due to that discharge. Wisdom that here th' unlearn'd shall understand. YOUNG: IVi.,t Thoug/its. SIR W. DAVENANT. 36 562 TRANSLA TION. TRA VEL. A new and nobler way thou dost pursue, I can't but say it is an awkward sight To make translations and translators too. To see one's native land receding through SIR J. DENHAM. The growing waters: it unmans one quite,Especially when life is rather new. They but preserve the ashes, thou the flame, Especially when life is rather new. BYRON. True to his sense, but truer to his fame; Fording his current, where thou find'st it low, Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, Let'st in thine own to make it rise and flow. And marvel men should quit their easy-chair, SIR J. DENHAM. The toilsome way, and long, long league to Nor ought a genius less than his that writ, trace, Attempt translation; for transplanted wit Oh, there is sweetness in the mountain air, All the defects of air and soil doth share, And life, that bloated ease can never hope to And colder brains like colder climates are. share.: Cil H. SIR J. DENHAM. Were it meant that in despite Beneath each lamp that through the lattice Of art and nature such dull clods should write, gleams, Bavius and Mzevius had been saved by fate Their fancy paints the friends that trim the For Settle and for Shadwell to translate. beams. DUKE. Oh, who can sanctify the joys of home The genuine sense, intelligibly told, Like hope's gay glance from ocean's troubled Shows a translator both discreet and bold. foam? BYRON: Co.rsair. ROSCOMMON. Returning, he proclaims by many a grace, Nor word for word too faithfully translate.,, RoscoMMONT. By shrugs and strange contortions of his face, How much a dunce that has been sent to roam How shall our author hope a gentle fate Excels a dunce that has been kept at home. Who dares most impudently not translate? COWPER: Proglress of Efrror. It had been civil, in these ticklish times, To fetch his fools and knaves from foreign Nature, like a weak and weary traveller, climes. Tired with a tedious and rugged way. SWIFT. SIR J. DENHAM. To roam TRAVEL. Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become. At the approach of night, DONNE. On the first friendly bank he throws him down, Or rests his head upon a rock till morn. What length of lands, what oceans have you ADDISON. pass'd, What storms sustain'd, and on what shores While I this unexampled task essay, been cast Pass awful gulfs, and beat my painful way, DRYDEN. Celestial dove! divine assistance bring. SIR R. BLACEMORE. Since toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to lands, Though long the wanldererl may depart, Inhospitable rocks, and barren sands. And far his footsteps roam, DRYDEN. He clasps the closer to his heart The image of his home. Twelve long years of exile borne, To that loved land, where'er he goes, Twice twelve we number'd since his blest His tenderest thoughts are cast, return; And dearer still, through absence, grows So strictly wert thou just to pay, The memory of the past. Even to the driblet of a day. JAMES DRUMMOND BURNS. DRYDEN. TRA VEL. 563 Yet if thou go'st by land, tho' grief possess He returns, his travel spent, My soul even then, my fears would be the less: Less knowing of himself than when he went. But, ah! be warn'd to shun the wat'ry way. Who knowledge hunt, kept under foreign locks, DRYDEN. May bring home wit to hold a paradox, Yet be fools still. Round the world we roam, BISHOP HENRY KING. Forced from our pleasing fields and native home. For not the ceaseless change of shifted place DRYDEN. Can from the heart a settled grief erase; He's proud, fantastic, apt to change, Nor can the purer balm of foreign air Restless at home, and ever prone to range. Heal the distemper'd mind of aching care. DRYDEN. LORD LYTTELTON. Under heavy arms the youth of Rome The land was beautiful: Their long laborious marches overcome; Fair rose the spires, and gay the buildings were, Cheerly their te'dious travels undergo. And rich the plains, like dreams of blessed isles; DRYDEN. But when I heard my country's music breathe, I sigh'd to be among her wilds again. By his command we boldly cross'd the line, I And bravely fought where southern stars MATURIN: Fredoifo. arise: Moon! if your influence be quite damm'd up We traced the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine, With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, And that which bribed our fathers made our Though a rush-candle from the wicker-hole prize. Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light. With much good will the motion was em- MILTON. braced Where else To chat awhile on their adventures pass'l. Shall I inform my unacquainted feet DRYDEN. In the blind mazes of this tangled wood? But that broad causeway will direct your way, MILTON. And you may reach the town by noon of day. Since last, with spirits wild and free, DRYDEN. I press'd my native strand, I will conduct thee on thy way I've wander'd many miles at sea, When next the southern sun inflames the day. And many miles on land; DRYDEN. I've seen fair realms of the earth What can thy mind to this long journey move? By rude commotion torn, Or needl'st thou absence to renew thy love? Which taught me how to prize the worth DRYDEN. Of that where I was born. GEORGE P. IMORRIS: The watchful traveller, f'mt with YTzou Onzce Agoain. That by the moon's mistaken light did rise, Lay down again, and closed his weary eyes. You first came home DRYDEN. From travel with such hopes as made ydu But most she fear'd, that travelling so late, look'd on, Some evil-minded beasts might lie in wait, By all men's eyes, a youth of expectation; And, without witness, wreak their hidden hate. Pleased with your growing virtue, I received DRYDEN. you. OTWAY. The fearful passenger, who travels late, Shakes at the moonshine shadow of a rush, To distant lands Vertumnus never roves; And sees a redcoat rise from every bush. Like you, contented with his native groves. DRYDEN.. Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, Oft with some favour'd traveller they stray, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee. And shine before him all the desert way. GOLDSMITH: Traveller. POPE. 564 TRA VEL. Wand'ring from clime to clime observant No fiiendly moon his giant shadow threw stray'd, Athwart the road, to save the Pilgrim's blood: Their manners noted, and their states survey'd. On as he went a vesper hymn he sung,POPE. The hymn that nightly soothed him to repose. A!i hope not yet to breathe thy native air; Fierce on his harmless prey the ruffian sprung! a The Pilgrim. bleeds to death, his eyelids close; Far other journey first demands thy cal-e. POPE. Yet his meek spirit knew no vengeful care, But, dying, for his murd'rer breathed-a sainted I view'd th' effects of that disastrous flame, pray'r. Which, kindled by th' imperious queen of love, MRS. RADCILIFFE: Th"e Pilgrimz. Constrain'd me from my native realms to rove. POPE. The weary traveller, who all night long Has climb'd among the Alps' tremendous steeps, Rough from the tossing surge Ulysses moves, Slirting the pathless precipice, where throng Urged on by want; and recent from the storms, Wild forms of danger; as he onward creeps, The brackish ooze his manly grace deforms. If chance his anxious eye at distance sees POPE. The mountain shepherd's solitary home, Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows, Peeping from forth the moon-illumined trees, Whose seats the weary traveller repose. What sudden transports to his bosom come! POPE. But if between some hideous chasm yawn, Where the cleft pine a doubtful bridge displays, He for the promised journey bids prepare In dreadful silence, on the brink, forlorn The smooth-hair'd horses and the rapid car. He stands, and views in the faint rays, He stands, and views in the faint rays, POPE. Far, far below, the torrent's rising surge, He wand'ring long a wider circle made, And listens to the wild impetuous roar; And many languagednations has survey'd. Still eyes the depth, still shudders on the verge, POPE. Fears to return, nor dares to venture o'er: Desperate, at length the tottering plank he tries One day, I think, in Paradise he lived; His weak steps slide, he shrieks, he sinks-he Destined the next his journey to pursue, d dies! Where wounding thorns and cursed thistles grew.e MRS. RADCLIFFE: 7fiysteries of &U/olho. PRIOR. Slow o'er the Apennine, with bleeding feet, Thou that to passe the world's foure parts dost deeme A patient Pilgrim wound his lonely way,,ee No more than'twere to goe to bed, or drinke. To deck the Lady of Loretto's seat, ED. ROBINSON * To Cahlain Smlzith of V'iSzi'a. With all the little wealth his zeal could pay: From mountain-tops cold died the evening ray, How have we wander'l a long dismal night, And stretch'd in twilight slept the vale below;.Led through blind paths by each deluding light. And now the last, last purple streaks of day Roscom)IION. Along the melancholy west fade slow. High o'er his head the restless pines complain, Let him spend his time no more at home, As on their summit rolls the breeze of night; Which would be great impeachment to his age, Beneath, the hoarse stream chides the rocks in In having known no travel in his youth. vain: SHAKSPEARE. vain: The Pilgrinm pauses on the dizzy height, Rather see the wonders of the world abroad, Then to the vale his cautious step he press'd:dized at home Than, living dully sluggardized at home For there a hermit's cross was dimly seen, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. Cresting the rock, and there his limbs might SHAKSFEAIR. rest, Cheer'd in the good man's cave by fagot's I drew from her a prayer of earnest heart, sheen, That I would all my pilgrimage delate; On leafy beds, nor guile his sleep molest. Whereof by parcels she had something heard, Unhappy Luke! he trusts a treacherous clue! But not distinctively. Behind the cliff the lurking robber stood! SHAKSPEARE. TRA VEL. — TREASON. 5 6 The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Oh, Portius, is there not some chosen curse, Now spurs the'lated traveller apace, Some hidden thunder in the store of heav'n, To gain the timely inn. Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man SHAKSPEARE. Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin? Go not my horse the better, ADDISON. I must become a borrower of the night When such paltry slaves presume For a dark hour or twailn. To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds, SHAKSPEARE. They're thrown neglected by; but if it fails; I've watch'd and travell'd hard: They're sure to die like dogs. Some time I shall sleep out; the rest I'll whistle.. ADDISON. SHAKSPEARE. The partners. of their crime will learn obedience, How heavy do I iourney on the way, When they look up, and see their fellow-traitors When what I seek-my weary travel's endStuck on a fork, and black'ning in the sun. Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, ADDISON. "Thus far the miles are measured from thy'friend!" Treasons are acted The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, As soon as thought; though they are ne'er bePlods dully on, to bear that weight in me,. lieved As if by some instinct the wretch did know Until they come to act. His rider loved not speed, being made from SIR J. DENHAM. thee: How safe is treason, and how sacred ill, h The bloody spur cannot provoke him on When none can sin against the people's will' That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, Where crowds can winkly and no offence be Which heavily he answers with a groan, known, More sharp to me than spurring'to his side; Since in another's ill they find their own. For that same groan doth put this in my DRYDEN. # mind,'Tis policy My grief lies onward, and lmly joy behind. For son and father to take different sides; SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet L. Then lands and tenements commit no treason. Long tost with storms, and beat with. bitter DRYDEN. winds, He frets within, froths treason at his mouth, High over hills, and low adown the dale, And churns it through his teeth. And churns it through his teeth. She wander'd many a wood, and measured DRYDEN. many a vale. SPENSER. You have already quench'd sedition's brand, From sea to sea, from realm to realm I rove, And zeal, which burnt it, only warms the lancl. And grow a mere geographer by love. DRYDEN. TICKELL. Then those whom form of laws The dust is old upon my "sandal-shoon,"' Condemn'd to die, when traitors judged their And still I ans a pilgrim; I have roved cause. ZDRYDEN. From wild America to spicy Ind, And worshipp'd atinnumerable shrines Hanging supposes human soul and reason: Of beauty; and the painter's art, to me, This animal's below committing treason: And sculpture, speak as with a living tongue; Shall he be hang'd who never could rebel? And of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, That's a preferment for Achitophel. Sitting amid their ruins. DRYDEN. N. P. WILLIS: Little Florence Gray.The traitor's odious name The traitor's odious name I first return, and then disprove thy claim. TREASON. DRYDEN. His virtues have undone his country; Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason? Such popular humanity is treason. For if it prosper, none dare call it treason. ADDISON. SIR J. HARRINGTON: Of 7Treasoz. 566 TREASON.- TREES. Permitted oft, though not inspired, by Heaven, Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord! Successful treasons punish impious kings. That would reduce these bloody days again. DR. JOHNSON: Iroene. SHAKSPEARE. Keep still your former face, and mix again Was not thy father for treason'headed? WTith these lost spirits; run all their mazes with And by his treason stand'st not thou attainted,'em; Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry? For such are treasons. SHAKSPEARE. BEN JONSON. There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can bhut peep to what it would. Let no court sycophant pervert my sense, SHASPAR Nor sly informer watch these words to draw Within the reach of treason. Duncan is in his grave; POPE. After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well: Treason and murder ever kept together, Treason has cone his worst: nor steel, nor As two yoke devils sworn to either's purpose, poison, Working so grossly in a nat'ral cause, Mace domestic, foreign levy, nothing, That admiration did not whoop at them. Can touch him further. SHAKSPEARE. If I could find example I have this day received a traitor's judgment, Of thousands that had struclc anointed kings, And by that name must die; yet heav'n bear And flourish'd after, I'd not do't; but since witness, Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not And if I have a conscience, let it sink me, one, Ev'n as the axe falls, if I be not faithful. Let villany itself forswear't. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Some guard these traitors to the block of death, Thy life, Melantius! I am come to take, Treason's true bed, and yielder-up of breath. Of which foul treason does a forfeit make. SHAKSPEARE. WALLER. Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid, TREES. And I am lowtecl by a traitor villain, And cannot help the noble chevalier. Brothers, the day declines; SHAKSPEARE. Above, the glacier brightens; Through hills of waving pines Know, thy name is lost, The " vesper-halo" lightens i By treason's tooth bare gnawn and canker-bit. Now wake the welcome chorus SHAKSPEARE. To Him our sires adored; Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of To Him who watcheth o'er us,Ye shepherds, praise the Lord! DR. WILLIAM BEATTIE: For treason is but trusted like the fox, Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd, and lock'd up, EvenigS H/llzn oft/le A6ine S/heph/e;ds. Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. All ye woods, and trees, and bow'rs, SHAKSPEARE. All ye virtues and ye pow'rs That inhabit in the lakes, Thus do all traitors: In the pleasant springs or brakes, If their purgation did consist in words, In the pleasant springs or brakes, t — — ~ —- r- ~-~~ Move your feet They are as innocent as grace itself. To our sound, SHAKSPEARE. H RWhilst we greet He All this ground Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do With his honour and his name treason, That defends our flock from blame. Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: SHAKSPEARE. I Faithful Shgepherdess. TREES. 567 There's a hill by the Schuylkill, the river of Fre&e stray the lucid streams, and find hearts,. No taint in these fresh lawns and shades; And a beech-tree that grows on its side, Free spring the flowers that scent the wind In a nook that is lovely when sunshine departs Where never scythe has swept the glades. And twilight creeps over the tide: WILLIAM C. BRYANT::Sint/er of /he Prairies. How sweet at that moment to steal through the Let other poets raise a fracas grove,'Bout vines and wines and drunken Bacchus. In the shade of that beech to recline, And dream of the maiden who gave it her love, BURNS. And left it thus hallow'd in mine! That man shall flourish like the trees ROBERT M. BIRD: 7'he Beech- Tree. Which by the streamlets grow; The fruitful top is spread on high, Earth's tall sons, the cedar, oak, and pine, And firm the root helow. And firm the root below. Their parent's undecaying strength declare. BURNS: First Psalm. SIR R. BLACKMORE. These blasted pines, Could-eat the tender plant, and, by degrees, Couldeat the tender plant, and, y eees Wrecks of a silgle winter, barkless, branchless, Browse on the shrubs, and crop the budding A blighted trunk upon a cursed root. trees. trees. BYRON: Affanfred, SIR R. BLACKMORE. I sit where the leaves of the maple, Cheerless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms. And the gnarl'd and knotted gum, BLAR: Gravee. Are circling and drifting around me, And think of the time to come. Then on a stately oak I cast mine eye, For the human heart is the mirror Whose ruffling top the clouds seem'd to aspire; How long since thou wast in thine infancy? Z Like the wave that reflects in its bosom Thy strength and stature, more thy years admire. ALICE CARY: Tze Timze To Be. Hath hundred winters past since thou wast borne Time To Be. Or thousands since thou brak'st thy shell of horn? Oh, leave this If so, all these, as nought, eternity doth scorn. Spare, woodman, spare the eechen tree! ANNE BRADSTREET: Contemplation. Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree! Though bush or floweret never grow Under the cooling shadow of a stately elm My dark, unwarming shade below; Close sate I by a goodly river's side, Nor summer bud perfume the dew Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm; Of rosy blush or yellow hue; A lonely place, with pleasure dignified. Nor fruits of autumn, blossom-born, I once that loved the shady woods so well, My green and glossy leaves adorn; Now thought the rivers did the trees excel, Nor murmuring tribes from me derive And if the sun would ever shine, there would I Th' ambrosial amber of the hive; dwell. Yet leave this barren spot to me: ANNE BRADSTREET: Cobntemlplation. Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree! Beautiful isles! beneath the sunset skies Thrice twenty summers I have seen Tall silver-shafted palm-trees rise between The sky grow bright, the forest green; Full orange-trees that shade And many a wintry wind have stood The living colonnade: In bloomless, fruitless solitude, Alas! how sad, how sickening is the scene Since childhood in my pleasant bower That were ye at my side would bhe a paradise! i First spent its sweet and sportive hour; MIARIA BROOKS: Ode on Revisiting Cuba. Since youthful lovers in my shade Their vows of truth and rapture made, With what free growth the elm and plane And on my trunk's surviving frame Fling their huge arms across my way, Carved many a long-forgotten name. Gray, old, and cumber'd with a train Oh! by the sighs of gentle sound, Of vines, as huge, and old, and gray! First breathed upon this sacred ground; 568 TREES. By all that love has whisper'd here, Oh, a'dainty plant is the ivy green, Or beauty heard with ravish'd ear; That creepeth o'er ruins old! As love's own altar honour me: Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree! In his cell so low and cold. CAMPBELL: Beech- 7}kee's Petition. The walls must be crumbled, the stones deAll fell upon the high-hair'd oaks, and down cay'd, their curled brows - To pleasure his dainty whim; Fell bustling to the earth; and up went all the And the mould'ring dust that years have made boles and boughs. Is a merry meal for him. CHAPMAN. Creeping where no life is seen, The tree at once both upward shoots, A rare old plant is the ivy green. And just at once grows downward to the roots. CHARLES DICKENS. JOHN CLEAVELAND. There were dark cedars, with loose, mossy A grove born with himself he sees, tresses, And loves his old contemporary trees. White-powder'd dog-trees, and stiff hollies COWLEY. flaunting, By the thunderer's stroke it from the root is rent; Gaudy as rustics in their May-day dresses, So sure the blows which from high heaven are Blue pelloret fiom purple leaves upslanting sent. A-modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden COWLEY. Shining beneath dropp'd lids the evening of her Thou magic lyre, whose fascinating sound wedding. JOSEPH RODMAN DRAInE:. B/'OIZX. Seduced the savage monsters from their cave, J Drew rocks and trees, and forms uncouth around, The beech, the swimming alder, and the plane, And bade wide Hebrus hush his listening Hard box, and linden of a softer grain. wave, DRYDEN. No more thy undulating warblings flow Thus mastful beech the bristly chestnut bears, O'er Thracian wilds of everlasting snow! And the wild ash is white with bloomy pears. COWPER: Ode. DRYD DRYDEN. Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth Here rise the branching beech and vocal oak, (Since which I number threescore winters past), Where Jove of old oraculously spoke. A shatter'd veteran, hollow-trunk'd perhaps, DRYDEN. As now, and with excoriate forks deform'd, The winding wood: Relics of ages! Could a mind, imbued Black was the forest, thick with beech it stood. With truth from Heaven, created thing adore, DRYDa N. I might with reverence kneel, and worship thee; The birc It seems idolatry with some excuse,, When our forefather Druids in their oaks all e Imagined sanctity. And their large branches did display COWPER: Ynardley Oak. To canopy the place. DRYDEN. Hence lastly springs care of posterities; Nor box nor limes without their use; For things their kind would everlasting makele: Smooth-grain'd, and proper for the turner's Hence is it that old men do plant young trees, trade, The fruit whereof another age shall take. Which curious hands may carve, and steel with SIR J. DAVIES. ease invade. DRYDEN. So lopp'd and pruned trees do flourish fair. SIR J. DAVIES. Black ebon only will in India grovw, As when fierce northern blasts from th' Alps And od'rous frankincense on the Sabtan bough. DRYDEN. descend, From his firm roots with struggling gusts to rend Full in the midst of this infernal road, An aged sturdy oak. An elm displays her dusky arms abroad. SIR J. DENHAM. DRYDEN. TREE S. 569 The trees were unctuous fir, and mountain ash. I saw Petreus' arms employ'd around DRYDEN. A well-grown oak, to root it from the ground; This way and that he wrench'd the fibrous Tall Norway fir their masts in battle spent, And English oaks sprung leaks and planks bands; The trunk was like a sapling in his hands. restore. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Why sit we not beneath the grateful shade Hard hailstones lie not thicker on the plain, Which hazels, intermix'd with elms, have made? Nor shaken oaks such show'rs of acorns rain. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Near the hearth a laurel grew, From veins of valleys milk and nectar broke, Dodder'd with age, whose boughs encompass And honey sweating through the pores of oak. round DRYDEN. The household gods, and shade the holy ground. DRYDEN. Had I not been blind, I might have seen Yon riven oak, the fairest of the green. Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood DRYDEN. A laurel's trunk of venerable wood. DRYDEN. Nor will the wither'd stock be green again, This plant Latinus, when his town he wall'1, But the wild olive shoots, and shades th' unThere found, and from the tree Laurentum grateful plain. DRYDEN. call'd: And last, in honour of his new abode, Old stakes of olive-trees in plants revive; He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god. But nobler vines by propagation thrive. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The boughs of Lotos, form'd into a wreath, His palms, though under weights they did not This monument thy maiden beauty's due, stand, High on a plane-tree shall be hung to view. Still thrived; no winter could his laurels fade. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees, A sapling pine he wrench'd from out the Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees; ground, Three centuries he grows, and three he stays The readiest weapon that his fury found. Supreme in state; and in three more decays. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. For thee the bubbling springs appear'd to mourn, Thoughtless as monarch'oaks that shade the And whispering pines made vows for thy return. plain, DRYDEN. And spread in solemn majesty supinely reign. DRYDEN. The mountain trees in distant prospect please, Take a plant of stubborn oak, Ere yet the pine descended to the seas, And labour him with many a sturdy stroke. Ere sails were spread new oceans to explore. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. He bared an ancient oak of all her boughs; The peasants were enjoin'd Then on a rising ground the trunk he'placed, Sere-wood, and firs, and dodder'd oaks to find. Which with the spoils of his dead foe he graced. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Sycamores with eglantine were spread, Straight as a line, in beauteous order, stood, A hedge about the sides, a covering overhead. Of oaks unshorn, a venerable wood. DRYDEN. DRvDEN; The mourner yew and builder oak were there. Two neighbouring trees with walls encompass'd DRYDEN. round, He drew One a hard oak, a softer linden one. And almost join'd the horns of the tough yew. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 5 70 TREES. Thick woods and gloomy night The wrinds within the quiv'ring branches play'dcl Conceal the happy plant from human sight. And dancing trees a mournful music made. One bough it bears; but, wondrous to behold! DRYDEN. The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold. The leaves on trees not more, DRYDEN. Nor beardled ears in fields, nor sands upon the A lofty pile they rear; shore. The fabric's front with cypress twigs they strew, And stick the sides with boughs of baleful yew. Some search for hollow trees, and fell the woods. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Some peasants The native energy Of the same soil their nursery prepare Turrns all into the substance of the tree, With that of the plantation; lest the tree Starves and destroys the fruit, is only made Translated should not with the soil agree. For brawny bulk, and for a bar-en shade. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. New leaves on ev'ry bough were seen; Let thy hand supply the pruning-knife, Some ruddy-colour'd, some of lighter green. And crop luxuriant stragglers, nor be loth DRYDEN. To strip the branches of their leafy growth. DRYDEN. Full in the midst of his own strength he stands, Stretching his brawny arms and leafy hands; Vile shrubs are shorn for browse: the tow'ring His shade protects the plains. height DRYDEN. Of unctuous trees are torches for the night. DRYDEN. Much labour is required in trees, to tame Their wild disorder, and in ranks reclaim. They wing'd their flight aloft, then, stooping low, DRYDEN. Perch'd on the double tree that bears the golden Look round to see bough. DRYDEN. The lurking gold upon the fatal tree; Then rend it off. The spreading branches made a goodly show, DRYDEN. And full of opening blooms was ev'ry bough. On the smooth rind the passengers shall see DRYDEN. Thy name engraved, and worship Helen's tree. DRYDEN. Huge trunks of trees, fell'd from the steepy crown While trees the mountain-tops with shades Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down. supply, DRYDEN. Your honour, name, and praise shall never die. DRYDEN. Balm trickles through the bleeding veins Of happy shrubs in Idumean plains. His growth is but a wild and fruitless plant: DRYDEN. I'll cut his barren branches to the stock, And graft you on to bear. The object I could first distinctly view DRYDEN. Was tall straight trees, which on the waters flew. Like some tall tree, the monster of the wood, DRYDEN. O'ershading all that under him would grow. View well this tree, the queen of all the grove: DRYDEN. How vast her bole, how wide her arms are With his pruning-hook disjoin spread, Unbearing branches from their head, How high above the rest she shoots her head! And graft more happy in their stead. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Behold the trees unnumber'd rise, But when the smoother bole from knots is free, Beautiful, in various dyes; We make a deep incision in the tree. The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, DRYDEN. The yellow beech, the sombre yew, TREES. 5 7 The slender fir that taper grows, Here pullies make the pond'rous oak ascend. The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs. GAY. DYER. Then shall the yew her sable branches spread, High, high above the tree-tops And mournful cypress rear her fringed head; The lark is soaring free; From thence shall thyme and myrtle send perWhere streams the light through broken clouds, fume, His speckled breast I see: And laurel evergreen o'ershade the tomb. Beneath the might of wicked men GAY: Dione. The poor man's worth is dying; But, thank'd be God! in spite of them, No stately larch-tree there expands a shade The lark still warbles flying. O'er half a rood of Larissean glade. EBENEZER ELLIOTT: Forest Wors/zhi. WAILTER HARTEo The shooter eugh, the broad-leaved sycamore, One lilac only, with a statelier grace, The barren plantane, and the walnut sound; Presumes to claim the oak's and cedar's place, The myrtle, that her foul sin doth still deplore; And, looking round him with a monarch's care, Alder, the owner of all waterish ground. Spreads his exalted boughs to wave in air. FAIRFAX. WALTER HARTE. Thus fell the trees, with noise the deserts roar; No theatres of oaks around him rise, The beasts their caves, the birds their nests. Whose roots earth's centre touch, whose heads forbore. the skies. FAIRFAX. WALTER, HARTE. The dead tree bears; each dried-up bough When the broad sea roll'c between them With leaves is overgrown, And their own far native land, And wears a living drapery now Thou wert the faithful ally Of verdure not his own. Of the hardy pilgrim band. The worthless stock a use has found, They bore no warlike eagles, The unsightly branch a grace; No banners swept the sky, As, climbing first, then dropp'd around, Nor the clarion, like a tempest, The green shoots interlace. Swell'd its fearful notes on high. So round that Grecian mystic rod But the ringing wild re-echoed To Hermes' hand assign'd,- Thy bold resistless stroke, The emblem of a helping God,- Where, like incense, on the morning First leaves, then serpents, twined. Went up the cabin smoke: In thee a holier sign I view The tall oaks bow'd before thee In thee a holier sign I view Than in Hebrew rods of power, Like reeds before the blast; Whether they to a serpent grew, And the earth put forth in gladness Or bukdded into flower. Where the axe in triumph past. DR. N. L. FROTHINGHAM: MARY E. HEWITT: A.re of tile Settler. 7b a Dead Tr'ee wit/h a fize lrailzedover it. A glorious tree is the old gray oak: Tediously pass the hours, He has stood for a thousand years, And vegetation wilts, with blister'd root, Has stood and frown'd And droop the thirsting flowers, On the trees around, Where the slant sunbeams shoot; Like a king among his peers; But of each tall old tree the lengthening line, As round their king they stand, so now, Slow-creeping eastward, marks the day's de- When the flowers their pale leaves fold, cline. The tall trees round him stand, array'd WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER: AzZgWS. In their robes of purple and gold. No gale disturb the trees, He has stood like a tower Nor aspen leaves confess the gentlest breeze. Through sun and shower, GAY. And dared the winds to battle; 5 72 TREES. He has heard the hail, WVith his stately air, that grave old tree, As from plates of mail, He stands lilke a hooded monk, From his own limbs shaken, rattle; With the gray moss waving solemnly He has toss'd them about, and shorn the tops From his shaggy limbs and trunk. (When the storm had roused his might) And the generations come and go, Of the forest trees, as a strong man dothAnl still he stands upright The heads of his foes in fight. And he sternly looks on the wood below, GEORGE HILL: Fall of tle Oak. As conscious of his might. By every hill whose stately pines But a mourner sad is the hoary tree, Wave their dark arms above A mourner sad and lone, The home where some fair being shines, And is clothed in funeral drapery To warm the wilds with love, For the long since dead and gone. From barest rock to bleakest shore HENRY R. JACKSON: The Live-Oak. Where fairest sail unfurls, The forest trees are transient things and frail: That stars and stripes are streaming o'er,- (So the book told me, ere I closed the page:) God bless our Yankee girls! Last year the willow-leaves were wan and pale: 0. W. HOLMES: Our Yankee Girls. I'll make to their last place a pilgrimage, I remember, I remember And changed, dead trees shall read a lesson The fir-trees dark and high; sage I used to think their slender tops Of change and death. No paler than before Were close against the sky. I found the -willow-leaves, nor sign of age Within the woods; immortal green they wore, The tallest pines feel most the power And the strong, mighty roots the giant trunks Of wintry blast; the loftiest tower upbore. Comes heaviest to the ground; SARAH S. JACOBS: Tke Chanzgeless World. The bolts that spare the mountain's side, It is not growing like a tree His cloud-capt eminence divide In bulk, doth make man better be, And spread the ruin round. Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, HORACE (by COWPER). To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear. Black walnuts, in low meadow ground, A lily of a day Are dropping now their dark-green balls, Is fairer far, in May; And on theridge, with rattling sound, Although it fall and die that night: The deep-brown chestnut falls. It was the plant and flower of light! When comes a day of sunshine mild, In small proportions we just beauties see: From childhood, nutting in the wild, And in short measureslife may-perfect be. Outbursts a shout of glee, BEN JONSON: Good Life, Long Life. And high the pointed shells are piled Under the hictkory-tree. Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER: October. Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, Dream, and so dream all night without a stir. Various the trees and passing foliage here, KEATS: yerion. Wild pear, and oak, and dusky juniper, While briony between in trails of white, I sought at noon the beechen bower, And ivy, and the suckle's streaky light, Thy verdant grot; And moss, warm gleaming with a sudden mark, It came,-it went,-the promised hour,Like growths of sunshine left upon the bark; I found thee not. And still the pine, flat-topp'd, and dclark, and tall, Light zephyrs from the quivering boughs In lordly right predominant o'er all. Soon brush'd the transient dew; LEIGH HUNT: Ravenna Pine I;bresl. Then first I fear'd that Dove's own vows Were transient too. With his gnarl'd old arms, and his iron form,,Majestic inthe wood, JOHN KENYON: Broken Aps4oinztmzent. Majestic in'the wood, From age to age, in the sun and storm, And now in the forest the woodman doth stand; The live-oak long hath stood' His eye marks the victims to fall by his hand, TREES. 573 While true to its aim is the ready axe found, And a benediction on the vines And quick do its blows through the woodland Which produce these various sorts of wines. resound. LONGFELLOW: Golden Legenzd. The proud tree low bendeth its vigorous form, Somewhat back from the village street Whose freshness and strength have braved many Stands the old-fashiond country seat; a storm; Across its antique portico And the sturdy oak shakes that ne'er trembled Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw; And from its station in the hall before, Though the years of its glory outnumber three- An ancient timepiece says to all,scoe.orever!-never.score. Never!-forever!" They fall side by side, —just as man in his prime LONGFELLOW: Old Clock on the Stairs. Lies down with the locks that are whiten'd by There is a lonely homestead time: The trees which are fell'd into ashes will burn, In a green and quiet vale, As man, by Death's blow, unto dust must return. With its tall trees sighing mournfully ELIZABETH C. KINNEY: Th/e Woodman. To every passing gale: There are many mansions round it, If, when thou dost recall that vine-clad grove In the sunlight gleaming fair; The moonbeams fill'd with checker'd light But moss-grown is that ancient roof, and shading, Its walls are gray and bare. Where first we breathed our trembling vows MRS. M. ST. LEON LOUD: of love, Deserted Homestead. And linger'd till the stars' soft rays were And the great Lord of Luna facling, Fell at that dreadful stroke, Thy fancy paints me wandering sad and slow Fell at that dadful stroe, As falls on Mount Alvernus Through those dim paths that once. thy footA thunder-smitten oak. steps press'd, Far o'er the crashing forest With deep regrets and signs of lonely woe, The giant arms lie spread; That find no echo in thy alter'd breast, giant aums rie spread; Believe it. And the pale augurs, muttering low, ~MARn Y LOCKHMART LAWSON: BelZeve It. Gaze on the blasted head. LORD MACAULAY: Loy/s ofAncient Rome. Now through rushing chutes, among green aZ!,~~ 1-1~ fI know a forest vast and old,islands, where plume-like islands, where plume-like A shade so deep, so darkly green, Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they That morning sends her shaft of gold swept with the current, swept with the current, In vain to pierce its leafy screen: Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand-bas,I know a brake where sleeps the fawn, sand-bars The soft-eyed fawn, through noon's repose; Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling For noon ith all the ca waves of their margin, 9 For noon with all the calm of dawn waves of their margin, Lies hush'd beneath those dewy boughs. Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans waded. Oh, proudly then the forest kings Level the landscape grew, and along the shores Their banners lift o'er vale and mount; of the river, And cool and fresh the wild grass springs, Shaded by China-trees, in the midst of luxuriant By lonely path, by sylvan fount; gardens, There, o'er the fair leaf-laden rill, Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins The laurel sheds her cluster'd bloom, and dove-cots. And throned upon the rock-wreathed hill LONGFELLOW: Evangeline. The rowan waves his scarlet plume. EDITH MAY: A Forest Scene. I always enter this sacred place With a thoughtful, solemn, and reverent pace, He many a walk traversed Pausing long enough on each stair Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm. To breathe an ejaculatory prayer, MILTON. 574 TREES. Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, Then laid him down A sylvan scene! and as the ranks ascend, Under the hospitable covert nigh Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of trees thick interwoven. Of stateliest view. MILTON. MILTON.'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheerThere will I build him ing, A monument, and plant it round with shade In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. Of laurel ever green, and branching palm. MILTON. MILTON. Nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove As when heav'n's fire With ringlets quaint. Hath scathed the forest oaks, or mountain pines, MI ILTON. With singed top their stately growth, though Overhead upgrew bare, Insuperable height of loftiest shade. Stands on the blasted heath. MILTON. MILTON. Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks Whose tallest pines, In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades Though rooted deep as high and sturdiest oaks, High overarch'd embow'r. Bow'd their stiff necks. MILTON. MILTON. When the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring Cover me, ye pines, To arched walks of twilight groves, Ye cedars! with innumerable boughs. And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Hide me where I may never see them more. Of pine or monumental oak. MILTON. MILTON. Towers and battlements it sees Of all the trees Bosom'd' high in tufted trees In Paradise; that bear delicious fruit Where perhaps some beauty lies So various, not to taste that only tree The cynosure of neighboring eyes. Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life. MILTON. MILTON. Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In heav'n the trees In youth it shelter'd me, Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vinesI'll protect it now. And I'1 protect it now. Yield nectar. MILTON.'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot: Amidst them stood the tree of life, There, woodman, let it-stand; High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit Thy axe shall harm it not! Of vegetable gold. MILTON. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown The willows, and the hazel copses green, Are spread o'er land and sea, Shall now no more be seen And wvouldst thou hew it down? Fanning their joyous leaves to their soft lays. Woodman, forbear thy stroke MILTON. Cut not its earth-bound ties; By the rushy-fringed bank, Oh, spare that aged oak, Where grows the willow and the osier dank, Now towering to the skies! My sliding chariot stays. GEORGE P. MORRIS: MILTON. Woodmanz, Sp/ate tz'at Tr'ee. Under some concourse of shades,'Tis beautiful to see a forest stand, Whose branching arms thick intertwined might Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the shield pride From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head. Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland MILTON. Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride; TREES. 575 To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams We stand among the fallen leaves Through arching aisles, where branches inter- In manhood's haughty prime,lace, When first our pausing hearts begin Where sombre pines rise o'er the shadowy To love " the olden time," gleams And, as we gaze, we sigh to think Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. How many a year hath pass'd But they who dwell beside the stream and hill Since'neath these cold and faded trees Prize little treasures there so kindly given: Our footsteps wander'd last; The song of birds, the babbling of the rill, And old companions-now perchance The pure unclouded light and air of heaven. Estranged, forgot, or deadThey walk as those who seeing cannot see, Come round us, as those autumn leaves Blind to this beauty even from their birth: Are crush'd beneath our tread. We value little blessings ever free; MRS. NORTON: Ezllen Leaves. We covet most the rarest things of earth. Like an oak But rising fronm the dust of busy streets That stands secure, though all the winds employ These forest children gladden many hearts; Their ceaseless roar, and only sheds its leaves, As some old friend their welcome presence Or mast, which the revolving spring restores. greets -JOHN PHILIPS. The toil-worn soul, and fresher life imparts. Now the sappy boughs Their shade is doubly grateful when it lies Attire themselves with blooms. Above the glare which stifling walls throw JOHN PHILIPS. back; Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue Here aged trees cathedral wallks compose, skies, And mount the hill in venerable rows. Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. POPE. ALICE B. NEAL: 7~'ees inz tve Cify. None taught the trees a nobler race to bear, I crush'd the dewy leaves Or more improved the vegetable care. Of the pale violets, and drank their breath,- POPE. Though I had heard that at each flow'ret's Poplars and alders ever quivering play'd, death And nodding cypress form'd a fragrant shade. A sister blossom grieves. POPE. I did not care to see their glorious hues, Fearing the richer perfumle I might lose. This fair vine, but that her arms surround Her married elm, had crept along the ground. Then in the dim old wood POPE. I laid me down beneath a bending tree, And dream'd, dear mother, waking dreams,of s ahpoplar, tha thee. Raised high the head. POPE. I thought how just and good The Power that had so gently seal'd mine Cedar and frankincense, an od'rous pile, eyes, Flamed on the hearth, and wide perfumed the Yet bade new pleasures and new hopes arise. isle. EMIILY NEAL. POPE. Now the cleft rind inserted graffs receives, The morning sun, with cloudless rays, And yields an offspring more than nature givcs. His powerless splendour round us streams; POPE. From crusted boughs and twinkling sprays Fly back unloosed the rainbow beams. Eternal greens the mossy margin grace, Watch'd by the sylvan genius of the place. With more than summer beauty fair, POPE. The trees in winter's garb are shown: What a rich halo melts in air, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, Around their crystal branches thrown! The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze. ANDREWS NORTON: A Wi)ter Moorning. POPE. 5 76 TREES. Dancing sunbeams on the waters play'd, But that look of childish sorrow And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring shade. On your tender child-heart fell, POPE. And you pluck'd the reddest roses Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, From the tree you loved so well, And told in sighs to all the trembling trees; Pass'd them through the stern cold grating, The trembling trees in every plain and wood Gently bidding tbem " Farewell Her fate re-murmur to the silver flood. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Angel's Stoy. POPE. Within this sober realm of leafless trees, The whisp'ring breeze The russet year inhaled the dreamy air, Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees. Like some tann'd reaper in his hour of ease, POPE. When all the fields are lying brown and bare. Trees on trees o'erthrown The gray barns, looking from their hazy hills Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan; O'er the dim waters widening in the vales, Sudden full twenty on the plain are strow'd, Sent down the air a greeting to the mills, And lopp'd and lighten'd of their branchy load. On the dull thunder of alternate flails. POPE. All sights were mellow'd, and all sounds subWaste sandy valleys, once perplex'd with thorn, dued, The spiry fir and shapely box adorn. The hills seem'd farther, and the streams sang POPE. low; Ye darksome pines, that, o'er yon rocks inclined, As in a dream the distant wooman hew'd Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind. His winter log with many a muffled blow. POPE. THOMAS BUCHANAN READ: Thze Closing Scene. To leafless shrubs the flow'ring palms succeed, All he described was present to their eyes, And od'rous myrtle to the noisome weed. And as he raised his verse, the poplars seem'd POPE. to rise. RosCOMMON. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, With every change his features play'd, Or trees weep amber on the banks of Po; As aspens show the light and shade. Let India boast her groves, nor envy we The weeping amber, and the balmy tree; While by our oaks the precious loads are borne, When fruitful Clydesdale's apple bowers And realms commanded which these trees adorn. Are mellowing in the noon; POPE. When sighs round Pembroke's ruin'd towers The sultry breath of June; Henry, in knots involving Emma's name, Henry,,in knots involving Emma's name, When Clyde, despite his sheltering wood, Had half express'd and half conceal'd his flame Must leave his channel dry; Upon this tree; and as the tender mark M l And vainly o'er the limpid flood Grew with the tree, and widen'd with the bark, Venus had heard the virgin's soft address, SIR WALTER SCOTT: Bo./[zzWel[ Castle. That as the wound the passion might increase. PRIOR.'Tis noon: against the knotted oak Why the changing oak should shed The hunters rest the idle spear; The yearly honour of his stately head; Curls through the trees the slender smoke, Whilst the distinguish'd yew is ever seen, Where yeomen dight the woodland cheer. Unchanged his branch, and permanent his green. SIR WALTER SCOTT: Cadyow Castle. PRIOR. Through groves of palm Envied Britannia, sturdy as the oak Sigh gales of balm: Which on her mountain-top she proudly bears, Fire-flies on the air are wheeling; Eludes the axe, and sprouts against the stroke, While through the gloom Strong from her wounds, and greater by her Comes soft perfume, wars. The distant beds of flowers revealing. PRIOR. SIR WALTER SCOTT: CleveZaLnd's Solnes. TREES. 5 77 His unblest feet his native seat, Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,'Mid Eske's fair woods, regain; Whose arms give shelter to the princely eagle. Through woods more fair no stream more sweet SHAKSPEARE. Rolls to the eastern main. There want not many that do fear, SIR WALTER SCOTT: Gray B23other. In deep of night, to walk by this Herne's oak.'Tis merry in greenwood-thus runs the old SHAKSPEARE. lay- As he lay along In the gladsome month of lively May, Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out When the wild birds' song on stem and spray Upon the brook that brawls along this road. Invites to forest bower: SHAISPEARE. Then rears the ash his airy crest, Then shineslthe birch in silver vest, An oak whose boughs were moss'd with age, And the beech in glistening leaves is drest, And high top bald with dry antiquity. And dark between shows the oak's proud breast, SHAKSPEARE. Like a chieftain's frowning tower. Like a chieftain's frowning tower. Knots, by the conflux of the meeting sap, SIR WALTER SDucoTTe.: Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain, Tortive and errant, from his course of growth. Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast SHAKSPEARE. hung ~~~~~~~hung You may as well forbid the mountain pines On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's To wag their high tops and t make a oise, To wag their high tops, and to make a noise, When they are fretted with the gusts of heav'n. And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, SHAKSPEARE. Till envious ivy did around thee cling, Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,- Thus droops this lofty pine, and hangs his sprays; O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep? Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her younger clays! SIR WALTER SCOTT: SHAKSPEARE. Lady of the Lake. The grove of sycamore And all around was verdure meet I That westward rooteth from the city side. For pressure of the fairies' feet. SHAKSPEARE. The glossy holly loved the park, Pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine, The yew-tree lent its shadow dark, That droops his sapless branches to the ground. And many an old oak, worn and bare, SHAKSPEARE. With all its shiver'd boughs, was there. SIR WALTER SCOTT: Lord of the slhes. Slips of yew, Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse. Ytene's oaks-beneath whose shade SHAKSPEARE. Their theme the merry minstrels made, Who can impress the forest, bid the tree Of Aspacart, and Bevis bold, Unfix his earth-bound root? And that Red King, who, while of old SHAISPEARE. Through Boldrewood the chase he led, By his loved huntsman's arrow bled,- I have a tree which grows here in my close, Ytene's oaks have heard again That mine own use invites me to cut down, Renew'd such legendary strain. And shortly must I fell it. SIR WALTER SCOTT::M/armion. SHAKSPEARE. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, And near the spot that gave me name, Merrily, merrily shall I live now, The moated mound of Risingham, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Where Reed upon her margin sees SHARSPEARE. Sweet AVoodburne's cottages and trees, The trees Some ancient sculptor's art has shown Should have borne men, and expectation fainted, An outlaw's image on the stone. Longing for what it had not. SIR WALTER SCOTT: RoXeby. SHAKSPEARE. 37 578 TREES. Will these moss'd trees, Their roots have stricken deep beneath, That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels And they have a verdant look. And skip when thou point'st out? MRS. E. OAKES SaMITH: Mid'&sztm7mer. SHAKSPEARE. A tree grew in Java whose pestilent rind When I do count the clock that tells the time, A venom distill'd of the deadliest kind: And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; The Dutch sent their felons its juices to draw, When I behold the violet past prime, And who return'd safe, pleaded pardon by law. And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white; JAMES SMITH When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, The Upas ils Ma3,bonse Lanc. Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, O Reader, hast thou ever stood to see And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, The holly-tree? Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard. eye that contemplates it well perceives SHAKSPEARE: Sonnel XI.Its glossy lea Its glossy leaves I sift the snow on the mountains below, Order'd by an intelligence so wise And their great pines groan aghast; As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. And all the night'tis my pillow white, Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Wrinkled and keen; SHIELEY: Tute Cl'oud'. No grazing cattle through their prickly round Can reach to w^ound;'Strephon, with leavy twigs of laurel-tree, Can reach to wound But as they grow where nothing is to fear, A garland made, on temples for to wear. Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear. SIR P. SIDNEY. I love to view these things with curious eyes,.in winter, when the dismal rain And moralize; Came down in slanting lines, And in this wisdom of the hollv-tree.And Wind, that grand old harper, smote Can emblem see His thunder-harp of pines. Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme; ALEXANDER SMITH: Lzife Drama. One which may profit in the after-time. Up grew the twig, with a vigor bold, ROBERT SOUTHEY: The.Holl- Tree. In the shape of the parent tree, The lopped tree in time may grow again, And the old oak knew that his doom was told, Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; When the sapling sprang so free. The sorriest wight may find release of pain,'Then the fierce winds came, and they raging tore The dryest soil suck in some moistening The hollow limbs away, shower:.And the damp moss crept from the earthy floor Time goes by turns, and chances change by Round the trunk time-worn and gray. course, The young oak grew, and proudly grew, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.,ROBERF SOUTHWELL: For its roots were deep and StrOng; ROsERI G SOUTHWELL: And a shadow broad on the earth it threw, Times Go by Trlns. And the sunshine linger'cl long Like to an almond-tree mounted high On its glossy leaf, where the flickering light On top of Green Selenis, all alone, WVas flung to the evening sky; With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; And the wild bird sought to its airy height, Whose tender locks do tremble every one, And taught her yotung to fly. At every little breath that under heav'n is blown. MRS. E. OAIKES SMITH: The Acorn. SPENSER. The tree that stood where the soil's athirst, The dureful oak, whose sap is not yet dried, And the mulleins first appear, Is long ere it conceive the kindling fire; Hath a dry and rusty-color'd bark. But when it once doth burn, it doth divide And its leaves are curl'd and sere; Great heat, and makes his flames to heav'n But the dogwood and the hazel-bush aspire. Have cluster'd round the brook,- SPENSER. TREES. 579 The oak for nothing ill, Another like fair tree eke grew thereby, The osier good for twigs, the poplar for the mill. Whereof whoso did eat eftsoons did know SPENSER. Both good and evil: 0 mournful memory! That tree, through one man's fault, hath done us The sailing Pine; the Cedar, proud and tall; all to die. The vine-prop Elm; the Poplar never dry; SPENSER. The builder Oak, sole king of forests all; The paths which wound'mid gorgeous trees, The Aspell, good~ for staves; the Cypress funeral; The ZD,>~~~~,, The streams whose bright lips kiss'd their The Laurel, meed of mighty conquerors flowers And poets sage; the Fir, that weepeth still;s that swell' t onies The winds that swell'd their harmonies The Willow, worn of hopeless paramours; Through those sun-hidinor bowers, The Yew, obedient to the bender's will; The temple vast, the green arcade, The Birch, for shafts; the Sallowv, for the mill;, the gr The nestling vale, the grassy glade, The Myrrh, sweet bleeding in the bitter wound; Dark cave and swampy lair; The warlike Beech; the Ash, for nothing ill; and s These scenes and sounds majestic made The fruitful Olive, and the Plantane round; His world, his pleasures, there. The carver Holm; the Maple, seldom inward ALFRED e. STREET: Tue Setter. sound. ALFRED B. STREET:.7,,e Sell/er. sound. SPENSER. What planter will attempt to yoke As hoary frost with spangles doth attire A sapling with a falling oak? SWIFT. The mossy branches of an oak half dead. SPENSER. The scene, a wood, produced no more Than a few scrubby trees before. The mighty trunk, half rent with rugged rift, SWIFT. Doth roll adown the rocks, and fall with fearful There, in the wondering airs of the Tropics, drift. Shivers the Aspen, still dreaming of cold: SPENSER. There stretches the Oak, from the loftiest A pleasant grove ledges, Wias shut up high, full of the stately tree IHis arms to the far-away lands of his brothers, That dedicated is to Olympic Jove, And the Pine-tree looks down on his rival the And to his son Alcides. Palm. SPENSER. BAYARD TAYLOR\: AD'lizmandjaro. The warlike elf much wonder'd at this tree, All outward wisdom yields to that within, So fair and great, that shadow'd all the ground. Whereof nor creed nor canon holds the key: SPENSER. We only feel that we have ever been And evermore shall be; Whose lofty trees, yclad with summer's pride, Did spread so broad that heaven's light did hide. And thus I know, by memories unfurl'd SPENSER. In rarer moods, and many a nameless sign, That once in Time, and somewhere in the world, There grew an aged tree on the green, 9,~~ ~I was a towering Pine, A goodly Oak some time had it been, With arms full strong and largely display'd, Rooted upon a cape that overhung But of their leaves they were disarray'ld: The entrance to a mountain gorge; whereon The body big and mightily plight, The wintry shadow of a peak was flung, Thoroughly rooted, and of wondrous height; Long after rise of sun. Whilom had been the king of the field, BAYARD TAYLOR: And mochel mast to the husband did yield, jIetnemphsycosis of rhe Pine. And with his nuts larded many a swine; Next to thee, O fair gazelle, But now the gray moss marred his rine, O Beddowee girl, beloved so well; His bared boughs were beaten with storms, His top was bald, and wasted with worms, Next to the fearless Nedjidee, His honour wecay'sd, ahis branches sere. Whose fleetness shall bear me again to thee; SPENSER: Next to ye both I love the Palm, Fable of the Oak and tie Brier. With his leaves of beauty, his fruit of balm; 580 TREES. Next to ye both I love the Tree I love thee when thy swelling buds appear, Whose fluttering shadow wraps us three And one by one their tender leaves unfold, With love, and silence, and mystery! As if they knew that warmer suns were near, BAYARD TAYLOR: The Ar4ab to te Palm. Nor longer sought to hide from winter's cold; And when with darker growth thy leaves are "' And here she came, and round me play'd, seen And sang to me the whole To veil from view the early robin's nest, Of those three stanzes that you made I love to lie beneath thy waving screen, About my' giant bole.' With limbs by summer's heat and toil oppress'd; "And in a fit of frolic mirth And when the autumn winds have stript thee She strove to span my waist: bare, Alas! I was so bioad of girth And round thee lies the smooth, untrodden snow, I could not be embraced. When naught is thine that made thee once so fair, I love to watch thy shadowy form below, "I wish'd myself the fair young beech And through thy leafless arms to look above That here beside me stands, On stars that brighter beam when most we need That round me, clasping each in each, their love. She imight have lock'd her hands." JONES VERY: The T7ree. TENNYSON: Tain7z Oak. For those who worship thee there is no death,Broad o'er my head the verdant cedars wave, For all they do is but with thee to dwell; And high palmm~ettos lift their graceful shade. Now, while I take from thee this passing breath, THOMSON. It is but of thy glorious name to tell: The rural seat, ITNor words nor measured sounds have I to find, Wlhose lofty elms anal venerable oaks But in them both my soul doth ever flow: Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs, They come as viewless as the unseen wind, In early spring, his airy city builds. And tell thy noiseless steps where'er I go: THONMSON. The trees that grow along thy living stream, Ancl from its springs refreshment ever drink, Sit beneath the shade Forever glittering in thy morning beam, Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts They bend them o'er the river's grassy brink; Thrown graceful round. And as more high and wide their branches grow, THOMSON. They look more fair within the depths below. JONES VERY: Trees of zLife. WTelcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets, hail! Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks! So the fair tree, which still preserves ~Y~e loyashes wild, resounin o'er the steep! IHer fiuit and state while no wind blows, Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep! Delicious is your shelter to the soul. In storms from that uprightness swerves, TIHOMSON. And the glad earth about her strows With treasure from her yielding boughs. Black from the stroke above, the smould'ring. WALLER. pine May they increase as fast, and spread their Stands as a shatter'd trunk. THOMSON. As the higher fame of their great owner grows! The hollow-whisp'ring breeze, the pliant rills, May he live long enough to see them all Purl down amid the twisted roots. Dark shadows cast, and as his palace tall! THOMSON. Methinks I see the love that shall be made, The lovers walking in that am'rous shade. O'er his ample sides the rambling sprays WALLER. Luxuriant shoot. THOMSON. As when loud winds a well-grown oak would rend Save elms, ash, and crab-tree for cart and for Up by the roots, this way and that they bend plough; His reeling trunk, and with a boisterous sound Save step for a stile of the crotch and the bough. Scatter his leaves, and strew them on the ground TUSSER. WALLER. TREES. TIRALS. 5 8 All with a border of rich fruit-trees crown'd, The knottie maples, pallid birch, hawthornes, Whose loaded branches hide the lofty mound. The horne-bound tree that to be cloven scornes, WALLER. Which from the tender vine oft takes his spouse, Who twines embracing arms about his boughs. Each morning, when my waking eyes first see, Within this Indian orchard fruits be some: Through the wreathed lattice, golden day appear, The ruddie cherrie, and the jetty plume, There sits a robin on the old elm-tree, Snake-niurthering hazell, with sweet saxaAnd with such stirring music fills my ear, phrage, I might forget that life had pain or fear, Whose spurnes in beere allays hot fever's rage; And feel again as I was wont to do The dyer's shumach, with more trees there be, When hope was young, and joy and life itself That are both good to use and rare to see. were new. WIILIAM WOOD: New Englaznd's Prospect. ANNA MARIA WELLS: Th/e Old Elmn- Ti-ee. Yet green are Saco's banks below, And belts of spruce and cedar show, TRIALS. Dark fringing round those cones of snow. WHITTIER: Feneroa Treoe of ate Soko/cis. Till from the straw the flail the corn doth beat, Until the chaff be purged from the wheat, Around Sebago's lonely lake Yea, till the mill the grain in pieces tear, There lingers not a breeze to break The richness of the flour will scarce appear. The mirror which its waters make. So, till men's persons great afflictions touch, If worth be found, their worth is not so much; The solemn pine, along its shore, The frsol phin halng its g shore, Because, like wheat in straw, they have not yet The firs which hang its gray rocks o'er, e i n ay, That value which in threshing they may get. Are painted on its glassy floor. For, till the bruising flails of God's corrections WHITTIER: Fiinear-a Tree of the Sokokis. Have thrashed out of us our vain affections, Fire and the axe have swept it bare, Till those corruptions which do misbecome us Save one lone beech, unclosing there Are by thy sacred Spirit winnow'd from us; Its light leaves in the vernal air. Until from us the straw of worldly treasures, Till all the dusty chaff of empty pleasures, With grave, cold looks, all sternly mute, Yea, till his flail upon us he doth lay, They break the damp turf at its foot, They break the dampd turf at its foot., To thrash the husk of this our flesh away, And leave the soul uncover'd; nay, yet more, They heave its stubborn trunk aside, Till God shall make our very spirit poor, The firm roots from the earth divide- We shall not up to highest wealth aspire; The rent beneath yawns dark and wide. But then we shall; and that is my desire. And there the fallen chief is laid, Did we think of the light and sunshine, In tassell'd garb of skins array'd, Of the blessings left us still, And girded with his wampum-braid. When we sit and ponder darkly WHITTIER: Finseral Tree of the Sokokis. And blindly o'er life's ill, How should we dispel the shadows Trees both in hills and plains in plenty be: Of still and deep despair, The long-lived oak, and mournful cypris tree; A l e And lessen the weight of anguish Sky-tow'ring pines, and chestnuts coated rough; Which every heart must ear The lasting cedar, with the walnut tough; The rosin-dropping fir for masts in use; The clouds may rest on the present, The boatmen seek for oares light, neat, growne And sorrow on days that are gone, sprewse; But no night is so utterly cheerless The brittle ash, the ever-trembling aspes, That we may not look for the dawn; The broad-spread elm, whose concave harbours And there is no human being wasps; With so wholly dark a lot, The water-spungie alder, good for nought; But the heart by turning the picture Small elderne, by the Indian fletchers sought; May find some sunny spot: 582 TR4AL S. - TRIZF ES.- R UTH. For, as in the days of winter, Triflers not ev'n in trifles can excel3 When the snow-drifts whiten the hill,'Tis solid bodies onliy polish well. Some birds in the air will flutter, YOUNG. And warble to cheer us still: So, if we would hark to the music, Brunetta's wise in actions great and rare, Some hope with a starry wing, But scorns on trifles to bestow her care. In the days of our darkest sorrow, Thus ev'ry hour Brunetta is to blame, Will sit in the heart and sing. Because th' occasion is beneath her aim: PHCEBE CARY: Li,-ht itn Dar-kness. Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small sands the mountains, moments make the How easy'tis, when destiny proves kind, yea With full-spread sails to run before the wind! And trifles life. Your care to trifles give But those that'gainst stiff gales laveering go Or you may die before you truly live. Or you may die before you truly live. Must be at once resolved and skilful too. YOUNG: Love ofalFae. DRYDEN. Cold, hunger, prisons, ills without a cure, All these he must, and guiltless oft, endure. DRYDEN. TRUTH. What if he hath decreed that I shall first O truth divine! enlighten'd by thy ray, Be tried in humble state, and things adverse; I grope and guess no more, but see my way. By tribulation, injuries, insults, ARBUTHNOT. Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence? MILTON. Night brings out stars as sorrows show us truths; Though many, yet they help not; bright, they After life light not; Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined They are too late to serve us; and sad things By faith and faithful works. Are aye too true. We never see the stars MILTON. Till we can see naught but them. So with truth, That close aspect of his And yet if one would look down a deep well, Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast. Even at noon, we might see these same stars, SHAKSPEARE. Far fairer than the blinding blue: the truth Our works are naught else Shines in the water like a dark bright eye. But there are other eyes men better love But the protractive trials of great Jove, Than truth's: for when we have her she's so To find persistive constancy in men. SHAKSPEARE. As every day thy mercy spares And proud, we know not what to do with her. Will bring its trials and its cares, PHILIP JAMES BAILEY: Tnt/i and Sorrow. O Saviour, till my life shall end, Truth is fair: should we forego it? Be thou my counsellor and friend: Can we sigh right for a wrong? Teach me thy precepts, all Divine, Can we sigh right for a wrong? God himself is the best Poet, And be thy great example mine. And the Real is his song. WILLIAM SHRUBSOLE, JUN.: Daijy Duzties. Sing His truth out fair and full, And secure His beautiful. TRIFLESt. Let Pan be dead. I view with anger a~nd disdain Truth is large. Our aspiration How little gives thee joy or pain: embraces half Me be. A print, a bronze, a flow'r, a root. Shame, to stand in IIis creation PRIOR. And doubt Truth's sufficiency! The instruments of darkness tell us truths; To think God's song unexcelling Win us with honest trifles, to betray us The poor tales of our own tellingIn deepest consequence. When Pan is dead. SHAKSPEARE. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Dead Pan. T.R UTH. 583 Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again: Muse, hang this harp upon yon aged beech, The eternal years of God are hers; Still murmuring with the solemn truths I teach, But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And while at intervals a cold blast sings And dies among his worshippers. Through the dry leaves, and pants upon the W. C. BRYA NT: The Baltte-Field. strings, My soul shall sigh in secret, and lament Wise poets that wrap truth in tales, A nation scourged, yet tardy to repent. Know her themselves through all her veils. CAREW. TeeCAREW. h COWPER.: Ewxpostulalion. Peace to the True Man's ashes! weep for those These are thy glorious works, eternal Truth, Whose cdays in old delusions have grown dim; The scoff of wither'd age and beardless youth; Such lives as his are triumphs, and their close These move the censure-and illiberal grin An immortality: weep not for him. Of fools that hate thee and delight in sin: But these shall last when night has quench'd As feathers wafted from the eagle's wings the pole the pole, Lie bright among the rocks they cannot warm, And heaven is all depa And heaven is all departed as a scroll: So lie the flowery lays that Genius brings, And when, as Justice has long since decreed, In the cold turf that wraps his honour'd form. Ith. This earth shall blaze, and a new world succeed, A practical rebuker of vain strife, Then these thy glorious works, and they that Bolder in deeds than words, from beardless share youth That Hope which can alone exclude despair, To the white hairs of age, he made his life Shall live, exempt from weakness and decay, A beautiful consecration to the Truth. The brightest wonders of an endless day. ALICE CARY: Hy/in of/the True Man. COWPER: Hope. Man fearlessly his voice for truth should raise, Hear the just law, the judgment of the skies! When truth would force its way in deed or He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies, word, And he that will be cheated to the last, Whether for him the popular. voice of praise Delusions, strong as Hell, shall bind him fast. Or the cold sneer of unbelief is heard: But if the vanderer his mistake discern, Like the First Martyr, when his voice arose Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return, Distinct above the hisses of his foes. Bewilder'd once, must he bewail his loss PHCEnBE CARY: Forever and forever? No the Cross! " BEquaClI to Eitse~r FSorftune." COWPER: Progress of Error. When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, The great mocking master mock'd not then, Men will believe because they love the lie; t When he said Truth was buried here below. But truth herself, if clouded with a frown, Must have some solemn proof to pass her down. CHURCHILL. For how can that be false which ev'ry tongue Let authors write for glory or reward, Of ev'ry mortal man affirms for true? Truth is well paid when she is sung and heard. Which truth hath in all ages been so strong, BISHOP CORBET. As, loadstone-like, all hearts it ever drew. SIR J. DAVIES. All truth is precious, if not all divine, And what dilates the pow'rs must needs refine. But let inviolate truth'be always dear COWPER. To thee: even before friendship truth prefer. Then ceremony leads her bigots forth, SIR J. DENHAM. Prepared to fight for shadows of no worth; Truth, modesty, and shame the world forsook, While truths, on which eternal things depend,,, Find not, or hardly find, a single friend. Fraud, avarice, and force their places too. DRYDEN. COWPER. The only amaranthine flow'r on earth Whatever fortune, good or bad, betide, Is virtue; th' only lasting treasure, truth. No time shall find me wanting to my truth. COWPER. DRYDEN. 584 TRUTfH. He, full of fraudful arts, Convince the world that you're devout and true, This well-invented tale for truth imparts. Be just in all you say, in all you do, DRYDEN. Whatever be your birth, you're sure to be Slow to resolve, but in performance quick; A peer of the first quality to me. JUVENAL. So true, that he was awkward at a trick. DRYDEN. Thou for the testimony of the truth hast borne, Universal reproach; far worse to bear Yet had his aspect nothing of severe, Than violence; for this was all thy care But such a face as promised him sincere. To stand approved in sight of God, though DRYDEN. worlds His promise Palamon accepts, but pray'd Judged thee perverse. MILTON. To keep it better than the first he made. DRYDEN: Fables. Truth, and peace, and love shall ever shine About the supreme throne The ambiguous god, who ruled her lab'ring Of Him, t' whose happy-making sight alone breast, Our heav'nly- guided souls shall climb. In these mysterious words his mind exprest; MILTON. Some truths reveal'd, in terms involved the rest. Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell: Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell: D RYDE N. For strength from truth divided, and from just, In all the changes of his doubtful state, Illaudable, naught merits but dispraise His truth, like heav'n's, was kept inviolate. And ignominy; yet to glory aspires, DRYDEN. Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: Therefore eternal silence be their doom. As some to witness truth heav'n's call obey, MILTON. So some on earth must, to confirm it, stay. DRYDEN. Servant of God, well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain'd To believe his wiles my truth can move, Against, revolted multitudes the cause of truth. Is to misdoubt my reason or my love. MIITON. DRYDEN. -Nor number nor example with him wrought Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow: To swerve from truth, or change his constant He who would search for pearls must dive mind. below. MILTON. DRYDEN. Wert thou that sweet-smiling youth? Important truths still let your fables hold, Or that crown'd matron sage, white-robed And moral mysteries with art unfold. Truth? GRANVILLE. MILTON. Banish'd from courts and love, Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth Abandon'd truth seeks shelter in the grove. Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the GRANVILLE. green, And with those few art eminently seen And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest. That labour up the hill of heavenly truth. GRAY: Bard. ILBON. Dare to be true; nothing can need a lie: That indecision marks its path with tears; A fault which needs it most grows two thereby. That want of candor darkens future years; GEORGE HERBERT. That perfect truth is virtue's safest friend, And that to shun the wrong is better than to If truth be with thy friend, be with them both: m mend. Share in the conquest, and confess a truth. DR. K. MITCHELL: Indecision. GEORGE HERBERT. I shut my eyes, in grief and shame, With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, Upon the dreary past; And lend a lie the confidence of truth. My heart, my soul pour'd recklessly DR. S. JOHNSON: London. On dreams that could not last: TRUTH. 585 My bark was drifted down the stream Ask you what provocation I have had? At will of wind or wave, — The strong antipathy of good to bad. An idle, light, and fragile thing, When truth or virtue an affront endures, That few had cared to save. Th' affront is mine, my friend, and should be Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, yours. POPE. And steer as Conscience tells, And I will brave the storms of Fate, Fill'd with the sense of age, the fire of youth, Though wide the ocean swells. A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth. I know my soul is strong and high, POPE. If once I give it sway; Together out they fly, I feel a glorious power within, Inseparable now, the truth and lie: Though light I seem and gay. And this or that unmix'd no mortal ear shall FRANCES S. OSGOOD: Aspi.rations. find. POPE. Truth, like-a single point, escapes the sight, Holy Ghost, with light Divine And claims attention to perceive it right; Shine upon this heart of mine; But what resembles truth is soon descried, Chase the shades of night away, Spreads like a surface, and expanded wide. Turn the darkness into day. POMFRET. Let me see my Saviour's face, Let envy howl, while heaven's whole chorus Let me all His beauties trace: sings, Show those glorious truths to me sings, And bark at honour not conferr'd by kings; Which are only known by Thee. DR. ANDREW REED: Let flatt'ry, sick'ning, see the incense rise, Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies: iymn lo tIie Holy Spiri1. Truth guards the poet, sanctifies the line, The first great work And makes immortal verses mean as mine. Is that yourself may to yourself be true. POPE. ROSCOMMON. Farewell then verse, and love, and ev'ry toy, He who is perfect, and abhors untruth, The rhymes and rattles of the man or boy: With heavenly influence inspires my youth. What right, what true, what fit, we justly call, SANDYS. Let this be all my care; for this is all. POPE. This above all, to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, A sacred weapon; left for truth's defence; Thou canst not then be false to any man. To all but heav'n-directed hands denied: SHAKSPEARE. The muse may give it, but the gods must guide. I charge thee, As heav'n shall work in me for thine avail, Truth needs no flowers of speech. To tell me truly. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. All, all but truth drops dead-born from the The truth appears so naked on my side press, That any purblind eye may find it out. Like last gazette, or like the last address. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. I pull in resolution, and begin'Tis not enough your counsel still be tiue: To doubt the equivocation of the fiend Blunt truths more mischief than nice false- That lies like truth. hoods do. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? But yet, I say, All fear, none aid you, and few understand. If imputation and strong circumstances, Painful pre-eminence! yourself to view Which lead directly to the door of truth, Above life's weakness, and its comforts too. Will give you satisfaction, you may have it. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. 586 7RUI rr. While others fish with craft for great opinion, A gentler death shall Falsehood die, I, with great truth, catch mere simplicity. Shot through and through with cunning words. SHAKSPEARE. Weak Truth, a-leaning on her crutch, If I break time, or flinch in property Wan, wasted Truth, in her utmost need, Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die. Thy kingly intellect shall feed, SHAKISPEAREo Until she be an athlete bold, And weary with a finger's touch All delights are vain, but that most vain Those writhed limbs of lightning speed; Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain; Like that strange angel which of old, As painfully to pore upon a book Until the breaking of the light, To seek the light of truth, while truth the while Wrestled with wandering Israel, Doth falsely blind the eyesight. Past Yabbok brook the livelong night, SHAKSPEARE. And heaven's mazed signs stood still O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem In the dim tract of Penuel. TENNYSON: To By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! TNNYSON The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem Though truths in manhood darkly join, For that sweet odour which doth in it live. Deep-seated in our mystic frame, The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye We yield all blessing to the name As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Of Him that made them current coin. Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly For Wisdom dealt with mortal powers, When summer's breath their masked buds disWhere Truth in closest words shall fail closes.. When Truth embodied in a tale But, for their virtue only is their show, Shall enter in at lowly doors. They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade, TENNYSON: ~n 3femgorinam. Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made: Or truth, divinely breaking on his mind, And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, Elates his being and unfolds his power. When that shall fade, by verse distils your truth. THOMSON. SHAKSPEARE: Soznet LI. heavenly tuth, Why heavenly truth, And moderation fair, were the red llarlks Love and Truth, whose light and blessing every And moderation fair, were the red marks reverent heart may know, Of superstition's scourge. reverent heart may know, THOMSON. Mercy, Justice, which are pillars that support this life below,- Their charms, if charms they have, the truth These, in sorrow and in darkness, in the inmost supplies, soul we feel, And from the theihe unlabour'd beauties rise. As the sure undying impress of the Almighty's TICKELL. burning seal. Such truth in love as th' antique world did WILLIAM W. STORY: MliidniAt. know; There is a nwreath for him ~whose hand In such a style as courts might boast of now. WALILER. The crimson tide of battle leads; There, lives cannot be good, The triumph of the victor's brand Death with its slaughter'd thousands feeds: There, faith cannot be sure, Where trfith cannot be quiet, Is there no wreath for Christian worth, For him that fights for truth on earth? Nor ordinances pure. CHARLES SWAIN: T7here is a Wti'eat/z. No king can king it right, Nor rightly sway his rod, Low-cowering shall the Sophist sit; Who truly loves not Christ Falsehood shall bare her plaited brow: And truly fears not God. Fair-fronted Truth shall droop not now NATHANIEL WARD: With shrilling shafts of subtle wit. Simple Cobbler of Aggawam. Nor martyr-flames nor trenchant swords (See Mionthzly Antsology, Boston, May, I809, Can do away that ancient lie: by DR. J. G. COGSWELL.) TRUTH. - T WILIGHT. 587 "-IInfinite Truth, the life of my desires, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, Come from the sky, and join thyself to me: And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with I'm tired with hearing, and this hearing tires: prayer. BYRON. But never tired of telling thee, A paler shadow strews'Tis thy fair face alone my spirit burns to see." Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day DR. ISAAC WATTS: Lyrics. Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues Knowing this, that never yet With a new colour as it gasps away,Share of Truth was vainly set The last still loveliest, till-'tis gone-and all is In the world's wide fallow; gray. After-hands shall sow the seed, BYRON: Chjilde Harold. After-hands from hill and mead Each flower the dews have lightly wet, Reap the harvests yellow. And in the sky the stars are met, Thus, with somewhat of the Seer, And on the wave is deeper blue, Must the moral pioneer And on the leaf a browner hue, From the Future borrow; And in the heaven that clear obscure, Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, So softly dark, and darkly pure, And on midnight's sky of rain Which follows the decline of day, Paint the golden morrow. As twilight melts beneath the moon away. WHITTIER: Bar-clay of U'y. BYRON: Parisina. What is truth?-A staff rejected. For there no twilight of the sun's dull ray WORDSWORTH. Glimmers upon the pure and native day. COWLEY. The sunset hues are fading fast TWILIGHT. From the fair western sky away, From each tower's embattled crest And floating clouds which gather'd round The vesper bell has toll'd; Have vanish'd with their colors gay.'Tis the hour that bringeth rest All, save one streak that lingers there, To the shepherd and his fold: Retaining still a rosy hue, From hamlet, rock, and chalet Bright at the verge, but pale above, Let our evening song be pour'd, Soft blending with celestial blue. Till mountain, rock, and valley Re-echo —" Praise the Lord!" So lovely were those brilliant clouds DR. WILLIAM BEATTIE,: Which floated in the evening air, Eveninzg HIIn of the Alpine Shepherds. It well might seem that angel forms Such fabrics for their robes would wear. Spirit that lreathest through my lattice, thou MARY ANN H DODD: Tzaioihzt. That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day, M Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow. A rift there was, which from the mountain's Thou hast been out upon the deep at play, height Riding all day the wild blue waves till now, Convey'd a glimmering and malignant light, Roughening their crests, and scattering high A breathing-place to draw the damps away, their spray, A twilight of an intercepted day. And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee DRYDEN. To the scorch'd land, thou wanderer of the sea. WM. C. BRYANT: To thie Evening Wind. The sun is set, the day is o'er, And labor's voice is heard no more; Bless'd be the hour, On high the silvermoon is hung; The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft The birds their vesper hymns have sung, Have felt that moment in its fullest power Save one who oft breaks forth anew, Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, To chant another sweet adieu While swung the deep bell in the distant tower, To all the glories of the day, Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And all its pleasures past away. 5 88 TWIZIGHT. Her twilight robe all nature wears, Twinkling vapors arose; and sky, and water, And evening sheds her fragrant tears, and forest, Which every thirsty plant receives, Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and While silence trembles on its leaves. mingled together. E. L. FOLLEN: Eveninfg. LONGFELLOW: Evangeline. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the When the hours of day are number'd, sight, And the voices of the Night And all the air a solemn stillness holds, WVake the better soul, that slumber'd, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, To a holy, calm delight; And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds. Ere the evening lamps are lighted, Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower And, like phantoms grim and tall, The moping owl does to the moon complain Shadows from the fitful filre-light Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Dance upon the parlour-wall; Molest her ancient solitary reign. Then the forms of the departed GRAY: Elegy. Enter at the open door; There is an evening Twilight of the heart, The beloved, the true-hearted, When its wild passion-waves are lull'd to Come to visit me once more. rest, LONGFELLOW: _Footsteps of AnlSgels. And the eye sees life's fairy scenes depart, Can Music's voice, can Beauty's eye, As fades the day-beam in the rosy west. Can Painting's glowing hand, supply'Tis with a nameless feeling of regret A charm so suited to my mind We gaze upon them as they melt away, As blows this hollow gust of wind; And fondly would we bid them linger yet, As drops this little weeling rill, But Hope is round us with her angel lay, Soft tinkling cown the moss-grown hill? Hailing afar some happier moonlight hour: While through the west, where sinks the crimDear are her whispers still, though lost their sonl day, early poswer. Meek Twilight slowly sails, and weaves her FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: Twilight. banners gray. MASON. As one who, walking in the twilight gloom,. When twilight skies look faintly down, Hears round about him voices as it darkens, When noon lies hush'd on leaf and spray, And, seeing not the forms from which they eWhen midnight casts her silver crown ~~~~~~~come, Before the throne of godlike day,Pauses from time to time, and turns and hearkens; There, still, to earth's perpetual choir, The same sweet harmony is given: So, walking here in twilight, 0 my friends! For angels wake her sacred lyre, I hear your voices, soften'd by the distance, And every chord is strung by Heaven. And pause, and turn to listen, as each sends EDITH MAY: -A _Fo'rest Scene. His words of friendship, comfort, and assistTwilight gray ance. LONGFElLOW: Hath in her sober livery all things clad. MILTON. The Seaside and the Fireside.- Dedication. The sun was sunk, and after him the star The twilight is sad and cloudy, Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring The wrind blows wild and free, Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter And like the wings of sea-birds'Twixt day and night; and now from end to end Flash the white caps of the sea. Night's hemisphere had veil'd th' horizon-round. LONGFELLOW: Twi7igjhrt. MILTON. Softly the evening came. The sun from the When the sun begins to fling western horizon His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er To arched walks of twilight groves. the landscape; MILTON. TWZGIG7HT. 589 Darkness now rose And the eyes have smiled in dying, As daylight sunk, and brought in lowering night, Blessing me with latest lifeHer shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, Oh, my friend! above the discord Privation mere of light and absent day. Of the last wild earthly strife. MILTON. EMILY NEAL: A /lemory. Ambrosial night, with clouds exhaled The twilight hour is over! From that high mount of God, whence light In busier homes than mine and shade I can see the shadows crossing Spring both, the face of brightest heav'n had Athwart the taper's shine; changed I hear the roll of chariots To grateful twilight. And the tread of homeward feet, MILTON. And the lamps' long rows of splendour In the June twilight, in the soft gray twilight, Gleam through the misty street. The yellow sun-glow trembling through the No more I mark the objects rainy eve, In my cold and cheerless room; As my love lay quiet, came the solemn fiat, The fire's unheeded embers "All these things forever -forever- thou Have sunk-and all is gloom. must leave." MRS. NORTON: Twilight. MIss D. M. MULOCH: In the 7une Twizightz. It is the twilight hour; The daylight toil is done, The long northern twilight between the day and And the last rays are departing the night, Of the cold and wintry sun. When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite, It is the time when friendship When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the Holds converse fair and free; crystal river seems It is the time when children Like that River of Life from out the Throne Dance round the mother's knee. where the blessed walk in white. Miss D. M. MULoCH: But my soul is faint and heavy, Twilight in the North. With a yearning sad and deep: By the fireside lone and dreary Slowly fades the misty twilight O'er the throng'd and noisy town; I sit me down and weep i Storms are gather'd in the distance, And the clouds above it frown. 0 Twilight! Spirit that does render birth Yet before me leaves'sway lightly Yet before me leavesndsdawy lightly To dim enchantments, melting heaven with In the hush'd and drowsy air, earth And the trees new-clothed in verdure. Leaving on craggy hills and running streams Have no summer of despair. A softness like the atmosphere of dreams: I have gazed into the darkness, Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet Seeking in the busy crowd Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward For a form once passing onward feet, With a step as firm and proud; Who, slow returning from his task of toil, For a face upturn'd in gladness Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil, To the window where I lean'd, And, though such radiance round him brightly Smiling with an eager welcome, glows, Though a step but intervened. Marks the small spark his cottage window EMILY NEAL: A Memory. throws. MRS. NORTON: Picture of Twiziehzt. No one hastens home at twilight, Watching for my hand to wave: Down sunk the sun; the closing hour of day For the form I seek so vainly Came onward, mantled o'er with dusky gray. Sleepeth in the silent grave; PARNELL. 590 TW I G H T. TYRANNY The approach of night, From many a brown old farm-house and hamlet The skies yet blushing with departing light, without name, When falling dews with spangles deck the glade, Their milking and their home-tasks done, the And the low sun has lengthen'd every shade. merry huskers came. POPE. WHITTIER: T-e Htskers. The shadows of the evening hours Pale Memory's favor'd child thou art, Fall from the darkening sky; And many dreams are thine; Upon the fragrance of the flowers d many dreams are thine; With their existence all the past The dews of evening lie: e Returning seems to twine. Before thy throne, 0 Lord of heaven We kneel at close of day: Thou bringest to the souls bereaved Look on thy children from on high, The look and tone they miss; And hear us while we pray. Thou callest from another world ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Evening6Hymn. The best-beloved of this. Last of the hours that track the fading day, Thou comest like a veiled nun, I move along the realms of twilight air, With footsteps sad and slow; And hear, remote, the choral song decay Thou summonest the solemn prayer Of sister-nymphs who dance around his car. From heart and lip to flow. Then, as I follow through the azure void, JANE T. WORTHINGTON: To TziLgkl. His partial splendour from my straining eye Sinks in the depths of space; my only guide His faint ray dawning on the farthest sky: TYRANNY. Save that sweet, lingering strain of gayer hours But what avail her unexhausted stores, Whose close my voice prolongs in dying notes, Her bloomy mountains, and her sunny shores, While mortals on the green earth own its powers, With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, As downward on the evening gale it floats. The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, lMRS. RADCLIFFIE: S~oo0g ofthre Eoveuli6 Hours. While proud oppression in her valleys reigns, And tyranny usurps her happy plains.? Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village green, ADDIsoN. With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Still'd is the hum that through the hamlet broke Curse on' the unpard'ning prince, whom tears When round the ruins of their ancient oak can draw The peasants flock'd to hear the minstrel play, To no remorse; who rules by lion's law; And games and carols closed the busy day. And deaf to pray'rs, by no submission bow'd, ROGERS: /Peas~ur~es of ~Memzo;-y. Rends all alike, the penitent and proud. DRYDEN. Now the soft hour Condemn'd to live with subjects ever mute, Of walking comes; for him who lonely loves to live wit To seek the distant hills, and there convese A salvage prince, unpleased, though absolute. To seek the distant hills, and there converse DRYDEN. With nature; there to harmonize his heart, And in pathetic song to breathe around His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain, The harmony to others. And long for arbitrary lords again, He dooms to death, asserting public right. Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds, DRYDEN. All ether softening, sober evening takes The fiend with necessity, Her wonted station in the middle air; The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. A thousand shadows at her beck. MILTON. THOIMSON. God in judgment just As thus into the'quiet night the twilight lapsed Subjects him fiom without to violent lords, away, Who oft as undeservedly inthrall And deeper in the brightening noon the tranquil His outward freedom: tyranny must be. shadows lay, I MILTON. TYRANNY U VKINDNEASS 59 X Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart; Insulting tyranny begins to jut Attended on his throne by all his guard Upon the innocent and awless throne. Of furious wishes, fears, and nice suspicions! SHAKSPEARE. OTWA~. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Still when the lust of tyrant pow'r succeeds, Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny. Some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds. SHAKSPEARE. POPE. I would not be the villain that thou think'st, Ev'n fortune rules no more a servile land, For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, Where exiled tyrants still by turns command. And the rich East to boot. SHARSPEARE. POPE. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on; No tyrants fierce that unrepenting die And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood. E'er felt such rage as thou. POPE. SHAISPEARE. our sacred aid religios monarchs own, Of all the tyrants that the world affords, Your sacred aid religious monarchs own, Our own affections are the fiercest lords. When first they merit, then ascend the throne: EARL OF STIRLING:'LOGizS Ccsar. But tyrants dread yott, lest your just decree Transfer the power, and set the people free. Worse than the anarchy at sea, PRIOR. Where fishes on each other prey; Where ev'ry trout can make as high rants 0 nation miserable! O'er his inferiors as our tyrants. SWIFT. With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptred; When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? When trampling tyranny with Fate SHAKSPEARE. And black Revenge gigantic goes, Hark! how the dying infants shriek! Sith'twas my fault to give the people scope, How hopeless age is sunk in woes!'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them Fly, mortals, from that fated land, For what I bid them do. SHAKSPEARE. Though birds in shades of cassia sing, Bleed, bleed, poor country! Harvests and fruits spontaneous rise, Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure; No storms disturb the smiling skies, For goodness dares not check thee. And each soft breeze rich odours bring. SHARSPEARE. DR. JOSEPH WARTON: Ode to Libeltj,. UNKINDNESS. These, these are feelings truly fine, He came too late!-Neglect had tried And prove their owner half divine. Her constancy too long; COWPER: IHer love had yielded to her pride The Poet, the Oyster, anzd tle Sensitive Plant. And the deep sense of wrong. A real joy I never knew She scorn'd the offering of a heart I believed thy passion true; W~hich linger'd on its way A real grief I ne'er can find Till it could no delight impart, Till thou provest peijurec or unkind. Nor spread one cheering ray. PRIOR. ELIZABETH BOGART: He Camne Too Late. In nature there's no blemish but the mind: And as for you, my Lady Squeamish, None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind. Who reckon every touch a blemish, SHAKSPEARE. If all the plants that can be found To the noble mind Embellishing the scene around Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. Should droop and wither where they grow, SHIAKSPEARE. You would not feel at all, not you. Or, if they serve you, serve you disinclined, The noblest minds their virtue prove And in their height of kindness are unkind. By pity, sympathy, and love:'YOUNG. 592 VALO UR.- VYA NITY VALOUR. It is held That valour is the chiefest virtue, and For, as we see the eclipsed sun By mortals is more gazed upon Most dignifies the haver: if it be, By mortals is more gazed upon The man I speak of cannot in the world Than when, adorn'd with all his light, Be singly counterpoised. SHAKSPEARE. He shines in serene sky most bright, So valour in a low estate His valour, shown upon our crests to-day, Is more admired and wonder'd at. Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, BUTLER: Hudibras, Even in the bosom of our adversaries. Who now my matchless valour dare oppose? SPEARE. How long will Dares wait his dastard foes? Mark a bounding valour in our English; DRYDEN. That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing, Now learn the diff'rence at your proper cost Breaks out into a second course of mischief, Betwixt true valour and an empty boast. Killing in relapses of mortality. SHAKSPEARE. True valour Your valour bravely did th' assault sustain, Lies in the mind, the never-yielding purpose, And fill'd the moats and ditches with the slain. Nor owns the blind award of giddy fortune. DRYDEN. THOMSON: Col'ioanstzs, You released his courage, and set free Noble pity held A valour fatal to the enemy. His hand awhile, and to their choice gave space DRYDEN. Which they would prove, his valour or his grace. WALLER. His name a great example stands to show How strangely high endeavours may be blest, Where piety and valour jointly go. VANITY. DRYDEN. Let vanity adorn the marble tomb A sad wise valour is the brave complexion With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of That leads the van, and swallows up the cities: renown, The giggler is a milkmaid, whom infection, In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, Or the fired beacon, firighteth from his ditties. Where night and desolations ever frown: GEORGE HERiBERT. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down, Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, T~Wo paths lead upward from below, V~With here and there a violet bestrown, And angels wait above, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring Who count each burning life-drop's flow, wave; Each falling tear of love. And many an evening sun shine sweetly on Though from the Hero's bleeding breast my grave. Her pulses Freedom drew, BEATTIE: T/he Humize Wish. Though the white lilies in her crest Can you add guilt to vanity, and take Sprang from that scarlet dew, — A pride to hear the conquests which you make? While Valor's haughty champions wait DRYDEN. Till all their scars are shown, 7 O frail estate of human things, Love walks unchallenged through the gate, Now to our cost your emptiness we know. To sit beside the Throne...-.DR-YD-EN. O. W. HOLMES: The 7zo Armies. Whom Ancus follows with a fawning air, Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, But vain within, and proudly popular. And from his memory inflame their breasts DRYDnEN. To matchless valour. Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon'd MILTON. round, To that dauntless temper of his mind And with the nodding plunies of ostrich crown'd? He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; To act in safety. SHAKSPEARE. It only serves to prove the living vain. GAY. VANiITY- VARIE TYJ 593 Both all things vain, and all who in vain things And in the mixture of all these appears Built their fond hopes of glory, or lasting fame, Variety, which all the rest endears. Or happiness. SIR J. DENHAM. MILTON. Eterne alteration Ah, friend! to dazzle let the vain design; Now follows, now flies, To raise the thoughts, and touch the heart, be And under pain, pleasure,thine. Under pleasure, pain lies. POPE. Love works at the centre, With varying vanities from ev'ry part, Heart heaving alway, They shift the moving toy-shop of their heart. Forth speed the strong pulses POPE. To the borders of day. This course of vanity almost complete, RALPH WALDO EMERSON: Tze Sphinx. Tired in the field of life, I hope retreat. Variety's the source of joy below, PRIOR. From which still fresh revolving pleasures flow; Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity In books and love the mind one end pursues, That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears? And only change the expiring flame renews. SHAKSPEARE. GAY. Now'gan his heart to swell in jollity, Countless the various species of mankind, And of himself great hope and help conceived; Countless the shades which sep'rate mind from That, puffed up with smoke of vanity, mind; And with self-loved personage deceived, No general object of desire is known; He'gan to hope of men to be received Each has his will, and each pursues his Own. For such as him thought, or fain would be: GIFFORD: Perseus. But for in court gay portance he perceived The lights and shades, whose well-accorded A gallant show to be in greatest gree, Eftsoons to court he cast t' advance his first deGives all the strength and colour of our life. gree. SPENSER. POPE.'Tis an old maxim in the schools That each from other differs, first confess; That vanity's the food of fools; Next, that he varies from himself no less. Yet now and then your men of wit POPE.' Will condescend to take a bit. SWIFT. Various of temper, as of face or frame, Almighty vanity! to thee they owe Each individual: his great end the same. Their zest of pleasure, and their balm of woe. POPE. YOUNG. I found Vain show and noise intoxicate the brain, The fickle ear soon glutted with the sound: Begin with giddiness, and end in pain. Condemn'd eternal changes to pursue, YOUNG. Tired of the last, and eager of the new. Ye vain! desist from your erroneous strife; Be wise, and quit the false sublime of life: Heav'n doth divide The true ambition there alone resides The state of man in divers functions, Where justice vindicates, and wisdom guides. Setting endeavour in continual motion. YOUNG. SHAKSPEARE. There rich varieties of joy VARIETY. Continual feast the mind; Pleasures which fill, but never cloy,,What exhibitions various hath the world fi Imlmortal and refined. Witness'd of mutability in all That we account most durable below! No factious strife, no envy there Change is the diet on which all subsist, The sons of peace molest; Created changeable, and change at last But harmony and love sincere Destroys them. Fill every happy breast. COWPER: Ya;rdley Oak. ANNE STEELE: PIromised Lana. 38 594 VE GE TA TION-. - VEVGEA NCE. - VERSE. - VICE. VEGETATION. And though the villain'scape a while, he feels Here kindly warmth their mounting juice fer- Slow vengeance, like a bloodhound, at his heels. SWIFT. ments To nobler tastes and more exalted scents. ADDISON. VERSE. Now sliding streams the thirsty plants renew, Good verse, recess and solitude requires, And feed their fibres with reviving dew. And ease from cares, and undisturbd desires. POPE. DRYDEN. See dying vegetables life sustain, But thou in clumsy verse, unlick'd, unpointed, See life dissolving Vegetate again; Hast shamefully defied. All forms that perish other forms supply, DRYDEN. By turns we catch the vital breath and die. I hasten Og and Doeg to rehearse, POPE. Two fools that crutch their feeble sense on Hence vegetives receive their fragrant birth, verse. And clothe the naked bosom of the earth. DRYDEN. SANDYS. What verse can do, he has perform'd in this, Which he presumes the most correct of his. The sun deep-darting to the dark retreat DRYDEN. Of vegetation sets the streaming power At large. Immortal verse, THOMSON. Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes, with many a winding bout The sap in fluent dance,, Of linked sweetness long drawn out. And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads MILTON. MILTON. All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things. THOMSON. VICE. Let brutes and vegetables that cannot drink So in the wicked there's no vice:So far as drought and nature urges, think. Of which the saints have not a spice. WALLER. BUTLER: Hudibras. Weak and irresolute is man: VENGEANCE. The purpose of to-day, Woven with pains into his plan, His sword ne'er fell but on the guilty head: To-morrow rends away.,Oppression, tyranny, and pow'r usurp'd T Draw all the vengeance of his arm upon'em. The bow well bent and smart the spring, ADDISON. Vice seems already slain; Soon may kind heav'n a sure relief provide; But passion rudely snaps the string, Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance And it revives again. due, COWPER: Human Fiaidlty. And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue. Each noble vice POPE. Shall bear a price, Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate, And virtue shall a drug become: An empty name And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate. POP E. Was all her fame, But now she shall be dumb. Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand; DRYDEN. Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. But thou who, lately of the common strain, EAE Wert one of us, if still thou dost retain I home returning, fraught with foul despight, The same ill habits, the same follies too, And chawing vengeance all the way I went. Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave. SPENSER. DRYDEN. VICE. — VR TE. 595 For vice, through frontless and of harden'd When noble benefits shall prove face, Not well disposed, the mind grown once corrupt, Is daunted at the sight of awful grace. They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly DRYDEN. Than ever they were fair. SHAKSPEA RE. The heavenly father keep his brood From foul infection of so great a vice. Do but see his vice; FAIRFAX.'Tis to his virtues a just equinox, We have all our vices, and the best The one as long as the other. Is he who with the fewest is opprest. SHAKSPEARE. HORACE. So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of His thoughts were low: virtue, To vice industrious; but to nobler deeds He lived from all attainder of suspect. Timorous and slothful. SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. No vice so simple but assumes I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.SHAKSPEARE. MILTON. The detestation you express How awful is that hour, when conscience stings For vice in all its glitt'ring dress. The hoary wretch who on his death-bed hears, SWIFT. Deep in his soul, the thundering voice that rings, In one dark, damning moment, crimes of years, And poor Misfortune feels the lash of Vice. And, screaming like a vulture in his ears, THOMSON. Tells, one by one, his thoughts and deeds of Ah! from real happiness we stray, shalmle! By vice bewilder'd: vice, which always leads, How wild the fury of his soul careers! However fair at first, to wilds of woe. His swart eye flashes with intensest flame, THOMSON: Ago non. THOMSON: -4ffamZemnzzOn. And like the torture's rack the wrestling of his frame. JAMES GATES PERCIVAL: Promet/zeus. VIRTUE. Vice is a monster of so frightful mien If there's a power above us As to be hated needs but to be seen; If there's a power above us Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, (And that there is, all nature cries aloud We first endure, then pity, then embrace. Through all her works), he must delight in We first endure, then pity, then embrace. vru ~POPE.. virtue: POPE. And that which he delights in must be happy. The heart resolves this matter in a trice: ADDISON. Men only feel the smart, but not the vice. POPE. Remember all his virtues, And show mankind that goodness is your care But when to mischief mortals bend their will, ADDISON. How soon they find fit instruments of ill! POPE. When his fortune sets before him all The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish, Deduct what is but vanity or dress, His rigid virtue will accept of none. Or learning's luxury, or idleness, ADDISON. Or tricks to show the stretch of human brain, — Mere curious pleasure, or ingenious pain! The gods in bounty work up storms about us, Expunge the whole, or lop th' excrescent parts That give mankind occasion to exert Of all our vices have created arts: Their hidden strength, and throw out into Then see how little the remaining sum practice Which serves the past, and must the tines to Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal'd come! In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. POPE. ADDISON. 596 VIRTUE. Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul, Numb'ring of his virtues' praise, Is the best gift of heaven: a happiness Death lost the reckoning of his days. That even above the smiles and frowns of fate CRASHAW. Exalts great nature's favourites; a wealth That ne'er encumlbers, nor can be transferr'd.'Tis vain to think that lasting which must end; ARMiSTRONG: Asrt of Preserving Health. And when'tis past, not any part remains Thereof, but the reward which virtue gains. -Virtue! how many as a lowly thing, SIR J. DENHAM. Born of weak folly, scorn thee! but thy name Alone they know; upon thy soaring wing The reputation They'd fear to mount; nor could thy sacred Of virtuous actions past, if not kept up flame With an access and fresh supply of new ones, Burn in their baser hearts: the biting thorn, Is lost and soon forgotten. The flinty crag, flowers hiding, strew thy field: SIR J. DENHAM: The Sophy. Yet blest is he whose daring hides the scorn To worthiest things, Of the frail, easy herd, and buckles on thy Virtue, art, beauty, fortune, now I see shield: Virtue, art, beauty, fortune, now I see shield: Rareness or use, not nature, value brings. Who says thy ways are bliss, trolls but a lay DONNE. To lure the infant: if thy paths to view Were always pleasant, Crime's worst sons would For of all moral virtues, she was all lay That ethics speak of virtues cardinal. Their daggers at thy feet, and, from mere DONNE. sloth, pursue. MARIA BROOKS: Zo2hiel. MARIA BROOK(S: ZoyAieS. Unsettled virtue stormy may appeal; Honour like mine serenely is severe. Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell: DRYDEN.'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell. COLLINS. Strong virtue, like strong nature, struggles still, Exerts itself, and then throws off the ill. Still in the paths of honour persevere, And not from past nor present ills despair; For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, 0 virtue virtue what art thou become, And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds. That men should leave thee for that toy a CONGREVE: Moterning Bride. woman? DRYDEN. Are domestic comforts dead? D Are all the nameless sweets of friendship fled? My guilt thy growing virtues did defame; Has time worn out, or fashion put to shame, My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. Good sense, good health, good conscience, and DRYDEN. good fame? All these belong to virtue, and all prove The father banish'd virtue shall restore, That virtue has a title to your love. And crimes shall threat the guilty world no COWPER: Progfress of Error. more. DRYDEN. Friends, not adopted with a schoolboy's haste, But chosen with a nice discerning taste, To some new clime, or to thy native sky, Well born, well dlisciplined, who, placed apart 0 friendless and forsaken virtue! fly: From vulgar minds, have honour much at heart, The Indian air is deadly to thee grown; And (though the world may think the ingredi- Deceit and canker'd malice rule thy throne.,D aRYDEN. ents odd) The love of virtue, and the fear of God! Your foes are such as they, not you, have made, Such friends prevent what else would soon And virtue may repel, though not invade. succeed, DRYDEN. A temper rustic as the life we lead, And keep the polish of the manners clean Since noble arts in Rome have no support, As theirs who bustle in the busiest scene. And rugged virtue not a friend at court. COWPER: Retirement. DRYDEN. VJR TUE. 597 A generous virtue of a vigorous kind, If thou dost ill, the joy fades, not the pains; Pure in the last recesses of the mind. If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. DRYDEN. GEORGE HERBERT. Virtue, disdain, despair, I oft have tried, Sweet day! so cool, so calm, so bright, And, foil'd, have with new arms my foe defied. The bridal of the earth and sky; DRYDEN. The dews shall weep thy fall to-night; Heroic virtue did his actions guide; For thou must die And he the substance, not th' appearance, chose. Sweet rose! whose hue, angry and brave, DRYDEN. Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Think not my sense of virtue is so small; Thy root is ever in its grave; I'll rather leap down first, and break your fall. And thou must die. DRYDIEN. Sweet spring! full of sweet days and roses; In deference to his virtues, I forbear A box where sweets compacted lie; To show you what the rest in orders were; Thy music shows ye have your closes; This brilliant is so spotless and so bright, And all must die. He needs not foil, but shines by his own proper light. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, DRYDEN. Like season'd timber, never gives; The path to peace is virtue: what I show, But, though the -whole world turn to coal, Thyself may freely on thyself bestow: Then chiefly lives. GEORGE HERBERT. Fortune was never worshipp'ld by the wise, But, set aloft by fools, usurps the skies. Each must in virtue strive for to excel; DRYDEN. The man lives twice who lives the first life well. He whose mind HERRICK. Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind; The heart, unalter'd in its mood, Though poor in fortune, of celestial race; Th alood, That joys alone in doing good, And he commits the crime who calls him base. s And follows in the heavenly road, And steps where once an angel trod,Fair virtue, should I follow thee, The joys within such heart that burln, I should be naked and alone; No loss can quench, nor time o'erturn! For thou art not in company, The stars may from their orbits bend, And scarce art to be found in one. The mountains rock, the heavens rend, EVELYN. The sun's last ember cool and quiver,-'Tis not to any rank confined, But virtue still shall glow' forever! But dwells in every honest mind; JAMES HOGG: Viri'te. Be justice then your sole pursuit; In misery's darkest cavern known, Plant virtue, and content's the fruit. His useful care was ever nigh, GWhere hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, Fearless he sees, who is with virtue crown'd, And lonely want retired to die. The tempest rage, and hears the thunder sound; Ever the same, let fortune smile or frown: His viltues walk'd their narrow round, Serenely as he lived resigns his breath, Nor made a pause, nor left a void; Meets destiny half-way, nor shrinks at death. And sure the eternal Master found GRANVILLE. The single talent well employ'd. DR. S. JOHNSON: Death/ of Roberlt Levelt. There is no peace in sinne: iEternal warr Doth rage'mong vices. But all vertues are They follow virtue for reward to-day; Friends'mong themselves, and choisest ac- To-morrow vice, if she give better pay; cents be We are so good, or bad, just at a price; Harsh echoes of their heavenly harmonie. For nothing else discerns the virtue or the vice. W. HABINGTON: On G. TaZboat. BEN JONSON. 598 VIZR TUE.'Tis virtue which they want; and, wanting it, For him I reckon not in high estate; Honour no garment to their backs can fit. But thee, whose strength, while virtue was her BEN JONSON. mate, Might have subdued the earth. MILTON. Were we not better to fall once with virtue Than draw a wretched and dishonour'd breath? Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt; BEN JONSON. Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; Love virtue; she alone is free; Yet even that which mischief meant most harm She can teach you how to climb Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. Higher than the sphery clime. MILTON. MILTON. He generous thoughts instils Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, Of true nobility; forms their ductile minds After this mortal change, to her true servants, To human virtues. Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. Count all th' advantage prosperous vice attains,'Tis but what virtue flies from and disdains; Virtue given for lost And grant the bad what happiness they would, Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most One they must want-which is, to pass for good, When most inactive deem'd. dOh, blind to truth and God's whole scheme below, Who fancy bliss to vice, to virtue woe! Nor think superfluous their aid: Who sees and follows that great scheme the I, from the influence of thy looks, receive best Access in every virtue; in thy sight Best knows the blessing, and will most be blest. More wise, more watchful, stronger. POPE. MILTON. Each emanation of his filres That beams on earth, each virtue he inspires, Wherefore should not strength and might Each art he prompts. each charm he can create, There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove Whate'er he gives, are giv' n for you to ate. Where bodsthuhtigtucnWhate'er he gives, are giv'n for you to hate. Where boldest, though to fight unconquerable? POPE MILTON. Others in virtue placed felicity; Passion and pride were to her soul unknown; But virtue join'cld with riches and long life, Convinced that virtue only is our own. In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease. POPE. MILTON. Fools into the notion fall That vice or virtue there is none at all: Virtue could see to do what virtue would That vice or virtue there is none at all By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Ask your own heart, and nothing is so plain; Were in the flat sea sunk.'Tis to mistake them costs the time and pain Were in the flat sea sunk. MILTON. POPE. Court virtues bear, like gems, the highest rate, Virtue which breaks through opposition, - An lemtto cBorn wlhere Heaven's influence scarce can peneAnd all temptation can remove, Most shines, and most is acceptable above. In life's low vale, the soil the virtues like, MILTON. They please as beauties, here as wonders strike. From this descent Though the same sun with all-diffusive rays Celestial virtues rising will appear Blush in the rose, and in the diamond blaze, More glorious and more dread than from no fall. We prize the stronger effort of his power, MILTON. And justly set the gem above the flower. POPE. Most men admire Sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed: Virtue who follow not her lore. VnMILTON.t h.What then? is the reward of virtue bread? MILTON. That vice may merit;'tis the price of toil; Rely on what thou hast of virtue, summon all. The knave deserves it when he tills the soil. MILTON. POPE.. VIR TUE. 599 Amidst corruption, luxury, and rage, Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour: Still leave some ancient virtues to our age. Content to dwell in decencies forever. POPE. POPE. Great idol of mankind, we neither claim Virtuous and vicious every man must be, Few in th' extreme, but all in the degree. The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame Few in th' extreme, POPE.'Tis all we beg thee to conceal from sight Virtue only makes our bliss below. Those acts of goodness which themselves requite: POPE. Oh, let us still the secret joy partake, To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's sake. Know then this truth (enough for man to know), To follow virtue ev'n for virtue's sake. POPE. Virtue alone is happiness below. The only point where human bliss stands still, This world,'tis true, And tastes the good without the fall to ill. Was made for Coesar, but for Titus too: POPE. And which more blest? who chain'd his Man hath two attendant angels country, say? Ever waiting at his side, Or he whose virtue sigh'd to lose a day? With him wheresoe'er he wanders, POPE. Wheresoe'er his feet abide. One to warn him when he darkleth, Thus nature gives us, let it check our pride, And rebuke him if he stray, The virtue nearest to our vice allied: One to leave him to his nature, Reason the bias turns to good or ill. And so let him go his way. POPE. Two recording spirits, reading As fruits ungrateful to the planter's care, All his life's minutest part, On savage stocks inserted, learn to bear; Looking in his soul, and listening The surest virtues thus from passions shoot, To the beatings of his heart. Wild nature's vigour working at the root. Each, with pen of fire electric, POPE. Writes the good or evil wrought; Oh heav'n-born sisters! source of, art! i Writes with truth that adds not, errs not, Who charm the sense, or mend the heart; Purpose, action, word, and thought. Who lead fair virtue's train along, One, the Teacher and Reprover, Moral truth, and mystic song. Marks each heaven-deserving deed, POPE. Graves it with the lightning's vigour, Seals it with the lightning's speed; Go search it there where to be born and die, Seals it with the lightning's speed; For the good that man achieveth,~ Of rich and poor make all the history; Enough that virtue fill'd the space between; t, * r *. ~~~Such remains for aye and ever Proved by the ends of being to have been. POPE. And cannot be blotted out. One (severe and silent Watcher!) What nothing earthly gives or can destroy,oteth every crime and guile, The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, Writes it with a holy duty, Is virtue's prize. Seals it not, but waits awhile; POPE. If the evil-doer cry not, Urged by thee, I turn'd the tuneful art "God forgive me " ere he sleeps, From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart-; Then the sad stern spirit seals it, For wit's false mirror held up nature's light; the gentler spirit weeps. Show'd erring pride, Whatever is, is right. P. PRINCE. That reason, passion, answer one great aim; Those that by their strict examples taught That true self-love and social are the same; How much more splendid virtue was than gold, That Virtue only makes our bliss below, Yet scarce their swelling thirst of fame could And all our knowledge is, ourselves to know. hide, POPE: Essay on Man And boasted poverty with too much pride. (Address lo BolinZbroke). PRIOR. 600 VIR TU E. Virtue, dear friend, needs no defence; Heav'n doth with us as we with torches do, The surest guard is innocence: Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Quivers and bows and poison'd darts Did not go forth of us,'twere all alike Are only used by guilty hearts. As if we had them not. ROSCOMMON. SHAKSPEARE. We. resolutely must When our souls shall leave this dwelling, The glory of one fair and virtuous action To the few virtues that we have be just. ROscOMMON. Is above all the'scutcheons on our tomb, Or silken banners over us. True virtues, with unclouded light, SHIRLEY. All great, all royal, shine divinely bright. No fancy mine, no other wrong suspect, ROSCOMMON. Make me, O virtuous shame, thy laws neglect. SIR P. SIDNEY. Would be proud if ourfaults whipt them not; and Sweet is thy virtue, as thyself art sweet; Our crimes would despair if they were not For when on me thou shinedst, late in sadCherish'd by our virtues. ness, SHAKSPEARE. A melting pleasance ran through every part, Let not the peace of virtue, which is set And me revived with heart-robing gladness. SPENSER. Betwixt us as the cerment of our love, SPESER. No fort can be so strong, To keep it builded, be the ram to batter. No fleshly breast can armed be so soulnd, SHAKSPEARE. But will at last be won with batt'ry long, Thy blood and virtue Or unawares at disadvantage found. SPENSER. Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Shares with thy birthright. Count that day lost whose low-descending sun SHAKSPEARE. Sees from thy hand no worthy action done. This Duncan - Stanisfordr's A-t of Readni'z, 3d ed., p. 27. Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been Virtue, to crown her fav'rites, loves to try So clear in his great office, that his virtues Some new, unbeaten passage to the sky. Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against SWIFT. The deep damnation of his taking off. I own, he hates an action base, SHAKSPEARE. His virtues battling with his place. SWIFT. In the fatness of these pursy times, I'll search where ev'ry virtue dwells, Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg; From courts inclusive down to cells. Yea, curb and woo, for leave to do him good. SWIFT. SHAKSPEARE. Where social love exerts her soft command, Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And plays the passions with a tender hand, And vice sometimes by action's dignified. Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife, SHAKSPEARE. And all the moral harmony of life. THOMSON. Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount, I care not, Fortune! what you me deny: Her nat'ral graces that extinguish art. You cannot rob me of free nature's grace; SHI-AKSPEARE. I You cannot shut the windows of the sky, If I'm traduced by tongues that neither know Through which Aurora shows her bright'ning face; My faculties nor person; face;'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake ou cannot bar my constant feet to trace That virtue must go through. The woods and lawns, by living streams, at eve: SHAKSPEARE. Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave: Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Of fancy, reason, virtue, naught can me bereave. SHAKSPEARE. THOMSON. VIR TUE.- VOICES. 60o O virtue! virtue! as thy joys excel, And feelingly the sage shall make report So are thy woes transcendent; the gross world fHow insecure, how baseless in itself Knows not the bliss or misery of either. Is that philosophy whose sway is framed THOMSON: Agamemnon. For mere material instruments, how weak Those arts aid high inventions, if unpropp'd What, what is virtue but repose of mind, By virtue. A pure ethereal calm, that knows no storm; WORDSWORTH: Power of Virtue. Above the reach of wild ambition's wind, Above the passions that this world deform, Virtue is the roughest way, And torture man, a proud malignant worm? But proves at night a bed of down. THOMSON: Castle of Izndolenzce. WOTTON. They talk'd of virtue, and of human bliss: Then, wrought into the soul, let virtue shine, What else so fit for man to settle well? The ground eternal, as the work divine. And still their long researches met in this, YOUNG. This Truth of Truths, which nothing can refel: The man who consecrates his hours " From virtue's fount the purest joys outmwell,"By vig7rous effort and an honest aim Sweet rills of thought that clear the conscious At once he draws the sting of life and death; soul; He walks with nature, and her paths are peace. While vice pours forth the troubled streams of YOUNG: Nilt T/azo ts. hell: The which, howe'er disguised, at last with dole Pygmies are pygmies still, though perch'd on Will through the tortured breast their fiery Alps; torrent roll. And pyramids are pyramids in vales. THOMSON: Castle of Indolence. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: Virtue alone outbuilds the pyramids: Virtue sole survives, Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall. Immortal, never-faling friend of man; Of these sure truths dost thou demand the cause? His guide to happiness on high. The cause is lodged in immortality. THOMSON: Seasons. YOUNG: Night Thoughts. Our wealth leaves us at death, Our kinsmen at the grave; But virtue of the mind unto The heavens with us we have. VOICES. Wherefore for virtue's sake By the firelight's fitful gleaming I can be well content I am dreaming, ever dreaming, The sweetest time of all my life And the rain is slowly falling all around; To deem in thinking spent. And voices that are nearest, LORD VAUX: Paradise of Daintly Devices. Of friends the best and dearest, Appear to have a strange and distant sound. But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad In flesh and blood. Now the weary wind is sighing, WALLER. And the murky day is dying, And the wither'd leaves lie scatter'd round my If virtue's self were lost, we might From your mind new copies write. door; WALLER. But that voice whose gentle greeting Set this heart so wildly beating At each fond and frequent greeting comes no All praise of safety, and all happiness, more. Upon the moral law. Egyptian Thebes; Al te Year Rosnd.'Lonely." Tyre by the margin of the sounding waves; Palmyra central in the desert, fell!'Tis vain to call; I once the strain have heard, And the arts died by which they had been That lack'd no note to make the tune comraised. plete; Call Archimedes from his buiied tomb Once, waken'd by the touch of some kind word, Upon the plains of vanish'd Syracuse: I found a garden fair, with flowers sweet: 602 FOICES. There, plucking fruits from many a drooping God's Voice, not Nature's night and noon bough, He sits upon the great white throne, I stray'd, untroubled by foreboding doubt; And listens for the Creatures' praise: Once have I pass'd the golden year, and now What babble we of days and days? I see it far back, like a star going out. The Dayspring He, whose days go on. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: De Proofusndis. The daisies of the golden year are dead; Its sunsets will not touch the west again; The forest, Lord! is thine; Its glories are removed, its blessings fled, Thy quickening voice calls forth its buds to And only fully known when sought in vain: light; The same sweet voices I shall never hear! Its thousand leaflets shine, For the fair forms that once my pathway Bathed in thy dews, and in thy sunbeams cross'd bright. Are gone, with waters of the golden year That now are mingled in the sea and lost. Thy voice is on the air, Allt/le Yenr Rounzd.: " Tue Goldenz Year." Where breezes murmur through the pathless shades; I look around, and feel the awe Thy universal care Of one who walks alone These awful deserts, as a spell, pervades. Among the wrecks of former days, STEPHEN S. BUIFINCH: In mournful ruin strown: Lines on Visitinfg Tall/ula/ Falls, Geogoia. I start to hear the stirring sounds Should the voice directly strike the brain, For the voice of the departed It would astonish and confuse it much; Therefore these plaits and folds the sound is borne upon the breeze. restrain, That solemn voice! it mingles with That it the organ may more gently touch. Each free and careless strain; SIR J. DAVIES. I scarce can think earth's minstrelsy A voice went forth throughout the land, Will cheer my heart again. t And an answering voice replied, The melody of summer waves,.The merlodygnotes offserdes, From the rock-piled mountain fastnesses The thrilling notes of birds, Can never be so dear to me To the surging ocean tide. As their remlemiber'd words. And far the blazing headlands gleam'd With their land-awakening fires; I sometimes dream their pleasant smiles And the hill-tops kindled, peak and height, Still on me sweetly fall, With a hundred answering pyres. Their tones of love I faintly hear MARY E. HEWITT: T/ire 7VZyO Voices. My name in sadness call. I knoxv that they are happy, What nymph soe'er his voice but hears With their angel-plumage on, Will be my rival, though she have but ears. But my heart is very desolate BEN JONSON. To think that they are gone. PARK BENJAMIN: Th2e 9Depart;ed. Voice of the viewless spirit! that hast rung Through the still chambers of the human While-O soft! her speaking is so interwound Through the still chambers of the human Of the dim and the sweet,'tis a twilight of heart, Since our first parents in sweet Eden sung sound, And floats through the chamber. Their low lament in tears,-thou voice that And floats through the chamber. art MRS. E. B. BROWNING. art Around us and above us, sounding on -A Voice reproves me thereupon, With a perpetual echo,'tis on thee, More sweet than Nature's, when the drone The ministry sublime to wake and warn!Of bees is sweetest, and more deep Full of that high and wondrous Deity Than when the rivers overleap That call'd existence out from Chaos' lonely The shuddering pines, and thunder on. sea! VOICES. 603 Voice that art heard through every age and And the waves of the heaven in calm loveliness clime, meet Commanding like a trumpet every ear, With the waters which borrow its ray! That lends no heeding to the sounds of Time, DR. ALEXANDER S. PATTERSON: Sunset. Seal'd up, for aye, from cradle to the bier! Her every tone is music's own, like those of That fallest, like a watchman's through the night, morning birds, Round those who sit in joy and those who And something more than melody dwells ever Round those who sit in joy and those who in her words; Yet startlingweep, allmenwiththyonesofmigt The coinage of her heart are they, and from her Yet startling all men with thy tones of might, — lips each flows O voice, that dwellest in the hallow'd deep il-eloquent in sleep As one may see the burden'd bee forth issue Of our own bosoms' silence-eloquent in sleep! fiolll the rose. GRENVILLE MELLEN: Conscience. EDWARD C. PINKNEY: A Heaiti. The poet in his vigil hears The poet ing his vigil hears niIt was midnight when I listen'd, Time flowing through the night, — I heard two Voices speak: And I heard two Voices speak: A mighty stream, absorbing tears, One was harsh and stern and cruel, And bearing down delight: And the other soft and weak: There, resting on his bank of thought, Yet I saw no Vision enter He listens, till his soul And I heard no steps depart, The voices of the waves has caught,- Of this Tyrant and his Captive, The meaning of their roll. Fate it might be, and a heart. RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES: ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: oices of History.e Tyrant and the Captive. In their motions harmony divine In their motions harmony divine Let us throw more logs on the fire! So smooths her charming tones. MILTON. sWe have need of a cheerful light, And close round the hearth to gather, Aery tongues, that syllable men's names For the wind has risen to-night. On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. With the mournful sound of its wailing MILTON. It has check'd the children's glee, And it calls with a louder clamour In the hush of April weather, With the bees in budding heather, Than the clamnour of the sea. And the white clouds floating, floating, Hark to the voice of the wind! And the sunshine falling broad, Let us listen to what it is saying, While my children down the hill Let us hearken to where it has been; Run and leap, and I sit still,- For it tells, in its terrible crying, Through the silence, through the silence art The fearful sights it has seen. Thou calling, O my God. It clatters loud at the casements, D. M. MULOCH: The Voice CaNiinz. Round the house it hurries on, And shrieks with redoubled fury Where are ye, melrry voices, When we say, " The blast is gone!" Whose clear and bird-like tone Hark to the voice of the wind Hark to the voice of the wind! Some other ear now blesses, ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Voice of the Wind. Less anxious than my own? Where are ye, steps of lightness, You smile to see me turn and speak Which fell like blossom-showers? With one whose converse you despise; Where are ye, sounds of laughter, You do not see the dreams of old That cheer'd the pleasant hours? That with his voice arise: MRS. NORTON: Twizigh t. How can you tell what links have made Him sacred in my eyes? What a bright, blessed hour, when earth's voices repeat O, these are Voices of the past, Their anthems at close of the day, Links of a broken chain, 604 VOICES. Wings that can bear me back to times There is a God, all nature speaks, Which cannot come again: Through earth, and air, and seas, and skies; Yet God forbid that I should lose See, from the clouds His glory breaks, The echoes that remain. When the first beams of morning rise! ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Voices of the Past. The rising sun, serenely bright, Her voice was ever soft, O'er the wide world's extended fi-ame Gentle and low; an excellent thing in woman. Inscribes, in characters of light, SHARSPEARE. His mighty Maker's glorious name. How silvery sweet sound lovers' tongues by ANNE STEELE: Voice of the CGeaotres. night; Like softest music to attending ears. The voice of the morning is calling to childSHAKSPEARE. hood, Music when soft voices die From streamlet and valley and mountain it Vibrates in the memory! calls, Odours when sweet violets sicken And Mary the loveliest nymph of, the wild-wood, Live within the sense they quicken. Is crossing the brook where the mill-water SHELLEY. falls. What strains of compassion are heard from Oh, lovely is Mary; her face like a vision above, Once seen leaves a chasm that will ever Calling sinners to flee to the bosom of Love! endure;'Tis the voice of the Saviour who speaks from From her glance and her smile there beams on high — something elysian: "Turn, turn ye, poor wanderers, 0 why will She has but one failing —sweet Mary is poor. ye die? CHARLES SWAIN: Voice oft/he AMorninzg. Turn, turn, ere ye perish; for judgment is A blockhead with melodious voice nlight." In boarding-schools can have his choice. What a sweet invitation is heard from above, SWIFT. Calling children to fly to the bosom of Love! The time draws near the birth of Christ:'Tis the voice of the Shepherd! how kind is its ~~~~~~tone —~ ~The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells fi-onm hill to hill "Come, ye young ones, to me, ere life's springtime be, flown:, Answer each other in the mist. time be flown: I will take you, and bless you, and make you Four voices of four hamlets round, mine own." From far and near, on mead and moor, Swrell out and fall, as if a door What accents of comfort are heard from above, Swell out and fall, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound: Calling mourners to rest on the bosom of Love!'Tis the voice of our tender and faithful High Each voice four changes on the wind, Priest — That now dilate, and now decrease, "Come to me, ye who labour, with sorrows Peace and good will, good will and peace, oppress'd:: Peace and good will, to all mankind, Come, and, learning of me, your tired souls shall TENNYSON: AIn ZAelfzoriam. find rest." The voice of prayer at the sable bier! What songs of rejoicing are rising above, A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer. From the blest who repose on the bosom of It commends the spirit to God who gave; Love! It lifts the thoughts fro'Tis the voice of the ransom'd; how joyful the It points to the glory where He shall reign Who whisper'd, " Thy brother shall rise again." "Glory, blessing, and power to the Lamb that was slain, The voice of prayer in the world of bliss! For He suffef'd for us, and with Him we shall But gladder, purer than rose from this. reign." The ransom'd shout to their glorious King, JAMES G. SMALL: Voices from Heaven. Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing; VO WS. - VO YA GE. VUL GARITEY 6o5 But a sinless and joyous'song they raise, What wonder I saw it And their voice of prayer is eternal praise. Fade, fail, and decay? HENRY WARE, JR.: Seasons of Prayer. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Hearts. There is a voice in the autumn blast O, Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine, That wafts the falling leaf, And in this vow do chain my soul with thine. When the glowing scene is fading fast, SHAKSPEARE. For the hour of bloom is brief: By all the vows that ever men have broke, It tells of life,-of its sure decay, In number more than ever woman spoke. And of earthly splendors that pass away. SHAKSPEARE. KATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: Voices of Zhe Seasons. VOYAGE. Some foe to his upright intent - VOVws. Finds out his weaker part: Virtue engages his assent, Lo! I am here to answer to your vows:s his But pleasure wilns his heart. And be the meeting fortunate! I come With joyful tidings: we shall part no more.'Tis here the folly of the wise AKENSIDE. Through all his art we view, And while his tongue the charge denies, To erase it with a solemn vow,-a princely Hs conscience owns it true. His conscience owns it true. vor,-to rule; Bound on a voyage of awful length A priestly vow,-to rule by grace of God the B d on a voyage of awful length ~~~~~pitiful ~And dangers little known,. >... l; ~A stranger to sperior strength A very godlike vow,-to rule in right and right- nger to siperior strength, Man vainly trusts his own. eouslless, And with the law and for the land!-so God But oars alone can ne'er prevail the vower bless! To reach the distant coast; MRS. E. B. BROWNING. The breath of heaven must swell the sail, 01 all the toil is lost. COWPER. She vow'd to rule, and in that oath her childhood put away; Willing we sought your shores, and, hither She doth maintain her womanhood, in vowing bound, love to-day. The port so long desired at length we found. O lovely lady!-let her vow! such lips become DRYDEN. such vows; Go now, go trust the wind's uncertain breath, And fairer goeth bridal wreath than crown with Removed four fingers from approaching death; vernal brows! Or seven at most, when thickest is the board. O lovely lady! —let her vow!-yea, let her vow DRYDEN. to love! So we th' Arabian coast do know MRS. E. B. BROWNING. At distance, when the spices blow; Those who wear the woodbine on their brow By the rich odour taught to steer, Were knights of love who never broke their Though neither day nor star appear. WALLER. Firm to their plighted faith. DRYDEN. VULGARITY. The Heart!-Yes, I wore it The vulgar! a scarce animated clod, As sign and as token Ne'er pleased with aught above'em. Of a love that once gave it, DRYDEN. A vow that wras spoken; Thy ear, inured to charitable sounds But a love, and a vow, and a heart, And pitying love, must feel the hateful wounds Can be broken. Of jest obscene, and vulgar ribaldry, The Love?-Life and Death The ill-bred question, and the loud reply; Are crush'd into a day, Brought by long habitude fiom bad to worse, So what wonder that Love Must hear the frequent oath, the direful curse. Should as soon pass away,- PRIOR. 606 WAR. VVAR. But when the battle-trumpet rings, His soul's a war-horse clad with wings! Behold, in awful march and dread array, The long-extended squadrons shape their way i He drinks delight in with the breath Of battle and the dust of death! Death, in approaching, terrible, imparts The axes redden, spring the sparks, An anxious horror to the bravest hearts; Yet do their beating breasts demand the strife, Such blows might batter, as they fell, And thirst of glory quells the love of life.,, ADDISON. Heaven's gates, or burst the booms of hell: So fights the fearless Norseman. A thousand glorious actions that might claim All the Year Round.' " The Norseyman." Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame, Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame, When swords are gleaming, you shall see Confused in clouds of glorious actions lie, The Norseman's face flas gloriously, And troops of heroes undistinguish'd die. With look that makes the foeman reel With look that makes the foemlan reel: ADDISON. His mirror from of old was steel, The war's whole art each private soldier knows, And still he wields, in battle's hour, And with a gen'ral's love of conquest glows. That old Thor's hammer of Norse power; ADDIsoN. Strikes with a desperate arm of might, And at the last tug turns the fight: Ensigns that pierced the foe's remotest lines For never yields the Norseman. The hardy veteran with tears resigns. A411 the Yea-r RouZnd.' " The Noorseman." ADDISON. Where trumpets blow and streamers flow, My thoughts are turn'd on peace: Behold him, calm and proud, Already have our quarrels fill'd the world Bear down upon his bravest foe, With widows and with orphans. A bursting thunder-cloud. ADDISON. Foremost of all the host that strove Scythia moui-ns To crowd Death's open door, Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions In giant mood his way he clove,Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome. The Man to go before. ADDISON. And though the battle-lightning blazed, But now the trumpet, terrible from far, The thtnders roar and roll, He to Immortal Beauty raised In shriller clangours animates the war; He to Immortal Beauty raised,A statue with his soul. Confed'rate drums in fuller concert beat, And never did the Greeks of old And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat. ADDISON. Mirror in marble rare ADDISON. A Wrestler of so fine a mould, How can I see the brave and young An Athlete half so fair. Fall in the cloud of war, and fall unsung? Alt/z e Year Round.Z. ADDISON. "Robert Blake, General-at-Sea." Shall war o'er all the earth e'er bathe his fingers Our best beloved of all the brave In sorrow's tears, and kiss the cheek of peace, That ever for fieedom fought, As was foretold of old by sacred singers, All, all the wonders of the wave And earth o'erflush with bountiful increase? For fatherland were wrought! Is this to come? He was the manner of man to show How victories may be won; The vainly proud, the selfishly ambitious, So swift, you scarcely saw the blow; Shall they o'erride the fortunes of mankind? You look'd-the deed was done. Or shall their teachings false, and schemes pernicious, You should have seen him as he trod By honest wrath be scatter'd to the wind? The deck, our joy and pride! Is this to come? You should have seen hini, like a god All the Year Round.' " To Come." Of storm, his war-horse ride! TVAR. 607 You should have seen him as he stood They never care how many others Fighting for his good land, They kill, without regard to mothers, With all the iron of soul and blood Or wives, or children, so they can Turn'd to a sword in hand. Make up some fierce dead-doing man. All /he'ear Round.' "Nelson: An Old BUTLER: Hnudibras. Mcan-o'- Wan'ss-~fan's Yarlz." And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, Pour forth Britannia's legions on the plain. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, ARBUTHNOT. Went pouring onward with impetuous speed, War is honourable And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; In those who do their native rights maintain, And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; In those whose swords an iron barrier rear And near, the beat of the alarming drunm Between the lawless spoiler and the weak. Roused up the soldier ere the miorning star; JOANNA BAILLIE. While throng'd the citizens, with terror dumb, Where are the mighty thundei-bolts of war? Or whispering, with white lips-" The foe! The Roman Czesars and the Grecian chiefs, They come! they come!" The boast of story? Where the hot brain'd BYRON: Ciilde Ha-rold. youth, Who the tiara at his pleasure tore And Ardennes waves above them her green Who the tiara at his pleasure tore leaves, From kings of all the then-discover'd globe; Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, And cried, forsooth, because his arm was hamper'd E Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, —alas! And had not room enough to do its work? Over the unreturning brave,-alas BLAIR: Grave. Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow No blood-stain'd victory, in story bright, In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Can give the philosophic mind delight; Of living valour, rolling on the foe, Nor triumph please, while rage and death de- And burning with highhope,shallmoulercold stroy: and low. Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy. BLOOMFIELD: Farmer's Boy. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, The battle hurtles on the plains, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay; Earth feels new scythes upon her The midnight brought the signal-sound of Earth feels new scythes upon her:. I We reap our brothers for the wains,strife, —'%And call the harvest-hnonour, The morn, the marshalling in arms,-the day, Ai-id call the harvesthonouray Draw face to face, front line to line, Battle's magnificently stern array! One image all inherit,- The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when Then kill, curse on, by that same sign, rent, Clay, clay,-and spirit, spirit. The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, Be pitiful, 0 God. Which her own clay shall cover, heap'dcl and MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Cry of the Human. pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe, —in one red burial Ah me! what perils do environ blent. The man that meddles with cold iron! BYRON: C/ilde Harold. BUTLER: Hudilbras. For those that fly may fight again, What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife, Which he can never do that's slain; The feast of vultures, and the waste of life? Wheince timely runnevening noat' meslan par;t The varying fortune of each separate field, Hence timely running's no mean part Of- conduct~ in~ t mata art.- rThe fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield? Of conduct in the martial art. BUTLER: Hudilras. The smoking ruin, and the crumbled wall? In this the struggle was the same with all! No martial project to surprise Zera. Can ever be attempted twice; Nor cast design serve afterwards,- On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow, -As gamesters tear their losing cards. His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below. BUTLER: Husdibras. CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Hope. 608 WAR. Our bugles sang truce,-for the night-cloud had But let eternal infamy pursue lower'd, The wretch to naught but his ambition true, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the Who, for the sake of filling with one blast sky; The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste. And thousands had sunk on the ground, over- COWPER. power'd, powerd,. I hate these potent madmen, who keep all The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die; The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die; Mankind awake, while they by their great deeds When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, Are drumming bard upon this hollow world, By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the / ~~~~~~slain, ~Only to make a sound to last for ages. ~~~~slain, llb~~JOHN CROWNE: Tyestes. At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Who sees these dismal heaps but would demand CAMPBELL: Soldier's Dream. What barbarous invader sack'd the land? I never knew a warryer yet but thee SIR J. DENHAM. From wine, tobacco, debts, dice, oaths, so free. Lastly stood War, in glittering arms yclad, THOMAS CARLTON: With visage grim, stern look, and blackly hued: To Captain ohzn Smith of Virlwinia. o a S Vi a In his right hand a naked sword he had, Around me the steed and the rider are lying, That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued; To wake at the bugle's loud summons no And in his left (that kings and kingdoms rued) more; Famine and fire he held, and therewithal And here is the banner that o'er them was flying, He razed towns and threw down towers and all. Torn, trampled, and sullied with earth and Cities he sack'd, and realms (that whilom flowwith gore. With morn-where the conflict the wildest was In honour, glory, and rule, above the rest) roaring, Whereosabresi weren clashinggana, t He overwhelm'd, and all their fame devour'd, Where sabres were clashing, and death-shot Consumed, destroy'd, wasted, and never ceased Thwatbannerwase pour dest andloftiests g T'Fill he their wealth, their name, and all op. That banner was proudest and loftiest soaring: Nowr standard and banner alike are no more. press'd; His face forehew'd with wounds; and by his All hush'd! not a breathing of life from the side numbers There hung his targe, with gashes deep and That, scatter'd around me, so heavily sleep: wide. Hath the cup of red wine lent its fumes to their LORD DORSET: Mirrorfor Magistrates. slumbers, And stain'd their bright garments with crim- I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage, son so deep? And haughty souls that, moved with mutual hate, Ah, no! these are not like gay revellers sleep- In fighting fields pursued and found their fate. DRYDEN. ing; The night-winds, unfelt, o'er their bosoms are Then shall the war, and stern debate, and strife sweeping; Immortal, be the business of my life; Ignobly their plumes o'er the damp ground are And in thy fane, the dusty spoils among, creeping, High on the burnish'd roof my banners shall be And dews, all uncared for, their bright fal- hung, chions steep. Rank'd with my champions' bucklers; and beELIZABETH M. CHANDLER: Battle-]i'eld. low, This fury fit for her intent she chose, With arms reversed, th' achievements of the foe. One who delights in wars and human woes. DRYDEN. COWLEY. Our careful monarch stands in person by, Some seek diversion in the tented field, This new-cast cannon's firmness to explore, And make the sorrows of mankind their sport. The strength of big-corn'd powder loves to try, But war's a game which, were their subjects wise, And ball and cartridge sorts for every bore. Kings should not play at. COWPER. DRYDEN. WAR. 609 Their arms are to the last decision bent, With such kind passion hastes the prince to fight, And fortune labours with the vast event. And spreads his flying canvas to the sound; DRYDEN. Him whom no danger, were he there, could fright; The neighb'ring plain with arms is cover'd o'er; Now, absent, every little noise could wound. The vale an iron harvest seems to yield DRYDEN. Of thick-sprung lances in a waving field. DRYDEN. He took my arms, and while I forced my way Through troops of foes, which did our passage Not thicker billows beat the Libyan main, stay, Not thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, My buck-ler o'er nmy aged father cast, Than stand these troops. Tha stand these t. DRYDEN. Still fighting, still defending, as I past. DRYDEN. Then, waving high her torch, the signal made, Which roused the Grecians from their ambus- A dreadful quiet felt, and worser far Than alms, a sullen interval of war. cade. DRYDEN. DRvDEN. The trumpet's loud clanlgour Down sunk the monster bulk, and press'd the Excites us to arms, Wi~Tith shrill notes of anger, His arms and clattering shield on the vast body And mortal alarms. DRYDEN.d. sound. Thousands there are, in darker fame that dwell, DRYDEN. Whose names some nobler poem shall adorn; After or before were never known For, tho' unknown to me, they sure fought well. Such chiefs; as each an army seem'd alone. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. At land and sea, in many a doubtful fight, Now the sprightly trumpet from afar Was never known a more advent'rous knight; Hath roused the neighing steeds to scour the: Who oft'ner drew his sword, and always for the fields, right. While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields.. DRYDEN.DRYDEN. Unskill'd in schemes by planets to foreshow, Thewhole division that to Mars pertains, Like canting rascals, how the wars will go. All trades of death that deal in steel for gains. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Go, card and spin, And leave the business of the war to men. From this light cause th' infernal maid prepares. DRYDEN. The country churls to mischief, hate, and wars. DRYDEN. He had been assured that art And conduct were of war thebetter part. I do not doubt but I have been to blame; DRYDEN. But, to pursue the end for which I came, Unite your subjects first, then let us go No sports but what belong to war they know: A And pour their common rage upon the foe. To break the stubborn colt, to bend the bow. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Or if too busily they will inquire If mirth should fail, I'll busy her with cares, Into a victory which we disdain; Silence her clamorous voice with louder wars; Then let them know, the Belgians did retire Trumpets and drums shall fright her from the Before the patron saint of injured Spain. throne, DRYDEN. As sounding cymbals aid the lab'ring moon. DRYDEN. I since have labour'd To bind the bruises of a civil war Our armours now may rust, our idle scimiters And stop the issues of their wasting. Hang by our sides for ornament, not use. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 39 61o WAR. A time will come when my maturer muse This helm and heavy buckler I call spare, In C.esar's wars a nobler theme shall choose. As only decorations of the war: DRYDEN. So Mars is arm'd for glory, not for need. Amid the main two mighty fleets engage; DRYDEN. Actium surveys the well-disputed prize.Upon the deck our careful general stood, DRYIDEN. And deeply mused on the succeeding day. What clangs were heard in German skies afar, DRYDEN. Of arms and armies rushing to the war' Argos, now rejoice, for Thebes lies low;'Thy slaughter'd sons now smile, and think they His subjects call'd aloud for war; WOll, But peaceful kings o'er martial people set When they can count more Thehan ghosts than Each other's poise and counterbalance are, theirs. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Slaughter grows murder, when it goes too far, Already we have conquer'd half the war, And makes a massacre, what was a war. And the less dangerous part is left behind. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. He saw in order painted on the wall He saw in order painted o the wall With wars and taxes others waste their owcn,'The wars that fame around the world had blown,' And houses burn, and household gods deface, All to the life, and every leader klnown. To drink in bowls which glittering gems enDRYDEN. chase. A sword keen-edged within his right he held, DRYDEN. The warlike emblem of a conquer'd field. The lives of all who cease from combat, spare: DRYDEN. My brother's be your most peculiar care. Before the battle joins, from afar DRYDEN.'The field yet glitters with the pomp of war. Such wars, such waste, such fiery tracks of DRYDEN. dearth High o'er the gate, in elephant and gold, Their zeal has left, and such a teemless earth. The crowd shall Coesar's Indian war behold. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. They, short of succours, and in deep despair, His warlike mind, his soul devoid of fear, Shook at the dismal prospect of the war. His high-designing thoughts, were figured there, DRYDEN. As when, by magic, ghosts are made appear. DRYDEN. Old falchions are new-temper'd in the fires: The sounding trumpet every soul inspires. How dire a tempest from Mycene pour'd, DRYDEN. Our plains, our temples, and our town devour'd! It was the waste of war. For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage, DRYDEN. Which princes and their people did engage. DRYDEN. With mortal heat each other must pursue; What wars, what wounds, what slaughter shall The rustic honours of the scythe and share ensue! Give place to swords and plumes, the pride of DRYDEN.ar. As if earth too narrow were for fate, DRYDEN. On open seas their quarrels they debate; A time of war at length will come, Inl hollow wood their floating armies bear, When Carthage shall contend the world with And force imprison'd winds to bring'em near. Rome. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. With joy they view the waving ensigns fly, These are my theme, and how the war began, And hear the trumpet's clangour pierce the sky. And how concluded by the godlike man. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. WA-TR. 6I I Then change we shields, and their devices bear: What groans of men shall fill the martial field! Let fraud supply the want of force in war. How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield! DRYDEN. What fun'ral pomp shall floating Tiber see! DRYDEN. Here, over-match'd in fight, in heaps they lie; There, scatter'd o'er the field, ignobly fly. A bloody Hymen shall th' alliance join DRYDEN. Betwixt the Trojan and th' Ausonian line. When she found her venom spread so far, DRYDEN. The royal house embroil'd in civil war, His presence soon blows up th' unkindly fight, Raised on her dusky wings she cleaves the skies. And his loud guns speak thick, like angry men. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Heartless they fought, and quitted soon their H rtless theyfought, andquite'Tis ill, though different your complexions are, ground, The falmily of heav'n for men should war. While ours with easy victory were crown'd. The family of eavn for men should war. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. A cloud of smoke envelops either host, Embrace again, my sons! be foes no more; A cloud of smoke envelops either host, And, all at once, the combatants are lost; Nor stain your country with her children's gore., a Darkling they join adverse, and shock unseen, DRYDEN. Coursers with coursers justling, men with men. I wish peace, and any terms prefer DRYDEN. Before the last extremities of war. DRYDEN. The nations far and near contend in choice, And send the flow'r of war by public voice. I heard DRYDEN. The neighing coursers and the soldiers cry, Anid sounding trumps that seem'd to tear the sky. The grateful work is done, DRYDEN. The seeds of discord sow'd, the war begun: Frauds, fear, and fury have possess'd the state, Nor drums disturb his morning sleep. And fix'd the causes of a lasting hate. Nor drums disturb his morning sleep. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. One rally of a hero's soul Strike your sails at summons, or prepare Does all the military art control To prove the last extremities of war. Y While timorous wit goes round, or fords the DRYDEN.hoe, shore, To me-the cries of fighting fields are charms; He shoots the gulf, and is already o'er, Keen be my sabre, and of proof my arms, And, when the enthusiastic fit is spent, I ask no other blessing of my stars; Looks back amazed at what he underwent. No prize but fame, no mistress but the wars. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble; Of wars and bloodshed, and of dire events, Honour but an empty bubble I could with greater certainty foretell. Never ending, still beginning, DRYDEN. Fighting still, and still destroying: If the world be worth thy winning, The Roman camp Think, oh, think it worth enjoying. Hangs o'er us black and threat'ning, like a storm DRYDEN: Alexander's Feast. Just breaking on our heads. DRYDEN. If we shun The vigour of this arm was never vailn; The purposed end, or here lie fixed all, And that my wonted prowess I retain, And that my wonted prowess I retain, What boots it us these wars to have begun? Witness these heaps of slaughter. FAIRFAX. DRYDEN. They smote the glistering armies, as they stand, All turn'd their sides, and to each other spoke; With quivering beams, which dazed the wonI saw their words break out in fire and smoke. d'ring eye. DRYDEN. FAIRFAX. 612 W/AR. What armies conquer'd perish'd with thy sword? Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, What cities sack'd? With such accursed instruments as these, FAIRFAX. Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices, When a gen'ral bids the martial train And jarrest the celestial harmonies? Spread their encampment o'er the spacious Were half the power that fills the world with plain, terror, Thick-rising tents a canvas city build. Were half the wealth bestow'd on camps and GAY. courts, No blazing beacons cast their blaze afar, Given to redeem the human mind from error, The dreadful signal of invasive war. There were no need of arsenals nor forts: GAY. The warrior's name would be a name abhorred! Their clattering arms with the fierce shocks Anc every nation that should lift again resound; Its hand against a brother, on its forehead Helmets and broken lances spread the ground. Would wear for evermore the curse of Cain GRANVILLF-E. I LONGFELLOW: Alr:senel at SpingzSeld. As life's unending column pours, As life's unending column pours, The king is come to marshal us, all in his Two marshall'd hosts are seen,- armour drest, armour daest, Twao armies on the trampled shores, And he has bound a snow-white plume upon That Death flows black between. his gallant crest; One marches to the drum-beat's roll, He look'd upon his people, and a tear was in The wide-mouth'd clarion's bray, his eye; And bears upon a crimson scroll, He look'cl upon the traitors, and his glance was "Our glory is to slay." stern and high. Right graciously he smiled on us, as roll'd from O(ne moves in silence by the stream,.. wing to wing, With sad yet watchful eyes, Calm as the patient -planet's gleam Down all our line, a deafening shout, " God That walks the clouded skies. save our Lord the King! And " If my standard-bearer fall, as fall full Along its front no sabres shine, well he may,No blood-red pennons wave: For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody Its.banner bears the single line, fray," Our duty is to save." Press where ye see my white plume shine O. WV. HOLMES: The Two Armnies. amidst the ranks of war, Yet reason fiowns in war's unequal game, And be your oliflamme to-day the helmet of Where wasted nations raise a single name; Navarre." And mortgaged states their grandsires' wreaths LORD MACAULAY: Battle of Ivoy. regret, Now God be praised! the day is ours! Mayenne From age to age in everlasting debt. hath turn'd his reinDR. S. JOHNSON: D'Aumale hath cried for quarter —the Flemish Vanity of HuNzan Wishes. count is slain. When Greek meets Greek, then comes the ttig Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before of war. a Biscay gale; LEE: Alexander the Great. The field is heap'd with bleeding steeds, and The tumult of each sack'd and burning village, flags, and cloven mail. The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns, And then we thought on vengeance, and, all The soldier's revels in the midst of pillage, along our van, The wail of famine in beleaguer'd towns; "Remember Saint Bartholomew!" was pass'd The bursting shell, the gateway wrench'd from man to man. asunder, But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman The rattling musketry, the clashing blade, is my foe: And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, Down, down with every foreigner, but let your The diapason of the cannonade. brethren go!" WAR. 6I3 Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship Fierce faces threat'ning wars; or in war, Giants of mighty bone and bold emprise. As our Sovereign Lord King Henry, the Soldier MILTON. of Navarre! The cannon's hush'd!-nor drum nor clarion LORD MACAULAY: Battle of Ivry. sound; Wars, hitherto the only argument Helmet and hauberk gleam upon the ground; Heroic deem'd, chief mast'ry to dissect Horseman and horse lie weltering in their gore; With long and tedious havoc fabled knights Patriots are dead, and heroes dare no more; In battles feign'd; the better fortitude While solemnly the moonlight shrouds the plain, Of patience and heroic martyrdom And lights the lurid features of the slain. Unsung. ROBERT MONTGOMERY: Picture of TWa'. MILTON. A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers; To overcome in battle, and subdcue There was lack of wvoman's nursing, there was Nations, and bring home spoils, with infinite dearth of woman's tears; OMhanslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeMI. human glory. M Nblood ebb'd away, MILTON. And bent with pitying glances, to hear what he Triumph, to be styled great conquerors, might say. Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods! The dying soldier falter'd, as he took that Destroyers rightlier call'd, and slayers of men. comrade's hand, MILTON. And he said, "I never more shall see my own, They around the flag my native land; Of each his faction, i~n their several clans, Take a message and a token to some distant Swarm populous, unnumber'd. friends of mine;MILTON. For I was born at Bingen,-at Bingen on the Remain'd to our almighty foe Rhine." Clear victory; to our part loss and rout MRS. NORTON. Through all the empyrean. Embattled troops with flowing banners pass MILTON. Through flow'ry meads, delighted, nor distrust Ho"w much more of pow'r The smiling surface; whilst the cavern'd ground Army against army numberless to raise Bursts fatal, and involves the hopes of war Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, In fiery whirls. Though not destroy, their happy native seat! JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. IWhat do thy vines avail, Or olives, when the cruel battle mows Advise how war may, best upheld, dvie bwy her tvo main nerves, iron and gold, The planters, with their harvest immature? Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, JOHN PHILIPS. In all her equipage. MILTON. Now no nmore the drum The brazen throat of~ war Ihad ceased to roar; Provokes to arms, or trumpet's clangour shrill Affrights the wives, and chills the virgins' blood. All now was turn'd to jollity and game, To luxury and riot, feast and dance. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. What sighs and tears No war, or battle's sound, Hath Eugene caused! how many widows' curse Was heard the world around; His cleaving falchion. The idle spear and shield were high up hung. JOHN PHILIPS. MILTON. Remote thou hear'st the dire effect of war's Fairfax, whose name in arms thro' Europe rihgs, Depopulation. Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, JOHN PHILIPS. And all her jealous monarchs with amaze, Guns' and trumpets' clang, and solemn sound And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings. Of drums, o'ercame their groans. MILTON. JOHN PHILIPS. 614 AAR. They roam In fighting fields as far the spear I throw Erroneous and disconsolate, themselves As flies the arrow from the well-drawn bow. Accusing, and their chiefs improvident PopE. Of military chance. JOHN PHILIPS. Adrastus soon, with gods averse, shall join In dire alliance with.the Theban line; andThe great competitohrs for Romeplai, Thence strife shall rise, and mortal war succeed. Caesar aLnd PoLmpey, onl Pharsalian plains; POPE. Where stern B3ellona, with one final stroke, Adjudged the empire of this globe to one. Next, to secure our camp and naval pow'rs, JOHN PHILIPS. Raise an embattled wall with lofty tow'rls. POPE. War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades, And steel now glitters in the muses' shades. Taught by this stroke, renounce the war's POPE. alarms, Anld learn to tremble at the name of i'ms. And now with shouts the shocking armies closed, To lances, lances, shields to shields opposed; Commutual death the fate of war confounds, The Grecian phalanx, moveless as a tow'r, Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds. On all sides batter'd, yet resists his pow'r. POPE. POPE. Though triumphs were to generals only due, Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain, Crowns were reserved to grace the soldiers too. Inhume the natives in their native plain. POPE. POPE. A prudent chief not always 1must display Save hut our army; and let Jove incrust llis pow'rs in equal ranks and fair array; Htis pow'rt in equal rsnanks and fair a lrray; Swords, pilkes, and guns with everlasting rust. But writh th' occasion and the place comply, POPE. Conceal his force, nay, seem sometimes to fly. POPE. Though bold in open field, they yet surround The town with walls, and mound illject on The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more; mound. But useless lances into scythes shall bend, PoPEo. And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. POPE. Intestine war no more our passions -wage; Ev'n giddy factions bear away their rage. And chiefless armies dozed out the campaign, And navies yawn'd for orders on the main. POPE. Sad chance of war! now, destitute of aid, Falls undistinguish'd by the victor spade. He nobly seized thee in the dire alarms Of war and slaughter-, and the clash of arms. POPE. She saw her sons with purple death expire, Her sacred domes involved in rolling fire; The fields are ravish'd from th' industrious Her sacred domes involved in rolling fire A dreadful series of intestine w7ars, swrains; Froml llel their cities, and from gods thei ales. Inglorious triumphs, and dishonest scars. From men their cities, and from gods their' fanes. ~~P~~~~~OPE. Discord! dire sister of the slaughter'd pow'r, When winged deaths in whistling arrows fly, Small at her birth, but rising ev'ry hour; Wilt thou, though wounded, yet undaunted stay. While scarce the skies hecr horrid head caln Perform thy part, and share the dangerous day? PRIOR. bound, PRIR. She stalks on earth, and shakes the world around. They seek that joy which used to glow POPE. Expanded on the hero's face, The nations bleed where'er her steps she.turns; When the thick squadrons lrest the foe, The groan still deepens, and the combat burns. And William led the glorious chase. POPE. PRIOR. [WAR. 615 Now, Mars, she said, let fame exalt her voice, And, when ambition's voice commands, Nor let thy conquests only be her choice. To march, and fight, and fall in foreign lands. PRIOR. I hate that drum's discordant sound, Dissembling for her sake his rising cares, Parading round, and round, and round: And with wise silence pond'ring vengeful wars. To me it talks of ravaged plains, PRIOR. And burning towns, and ruin'd swains, Show all the spoils by valiant kings achieved, And mangled limbs, and dying groans, And groaning nations by their arms relieved. And widows' tears, and orphans' moans, PRIOR. And all that misery's hand bestows, To fill the catalogue of human woes. Gather all the smiling hours, JOHN SCOTT Such as with friendly care have guarded Patriots and kings in rightful wars. Soldier, wake: the day is peeping; PRIOR. Honour ne'er was won in sleeping, Never when the sunbeams still See where he comes, the darling of the war! Never when the sunbeams still See millions crowding round the gilded car! Lay unreflected on the hill: PRIOR.'Tis when they are glinted back From axe and armour, spear and jack, Unwilling then in arms to meet, That they promise future story He strove to lengthen the campaign Many a page of deathless glory. And save his forces by chicane. Shields that are the foeman's terror PRIOR. Ever are the morning's mirror. Or march'd I chain'd behind the hostile car, SIR WALTER SCOTT:.f]ont The Betrolked. The victor's pastime, and the sport of war. And the stern joy which warriors feel PRIOR. In foemen worthy of their steel. To his laborious youth, consumed in war, SIR WALTER SCOTT: And lasting age, adorn'd and crown'd with peace. Lady ojf'ze Lake. PRIOR. Oh, War! thou hast thy fierce delight, The bullet comes-and either Thy glea.ms of joy intensely bright! A desolate hearth may see; Such gleams as from thy polish'd shield And God alone to-night knows where Fly dazzling o'er the battle-field! The vacant place may be! Such transports wake, severe and high, The dread that stirs the peasant Amid the pealing conquest cry; Thrills the noble's heart with fear; Scarce less, when, after battle lost, Yet above selfish sorrow Muster the remnants of a host, Both hold their country dear. And, as each comrade's name they tell ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Lesson of Ahe War. Who in the well-fought conflict fell, Each with a gigantic stride IKnitting stern brow o'er flashing eye, Trampling on all the flourishing works of peace Vox to avenge them or to die! To make his greatness greater, and inscribe Warriors!-and where are warriors found, His name in blood.. If not on martial Britain's ground? SAMUEL ROGERS::Italy. And who, when waked with notes of fire, Love more than they the British lyre? The mighty rivals, whose destructive rage SIR WALTER SCOTT: Lord of tAe Isles. Did the whole wnorld in civil arms engage, Are now agreed. Sound, sound the clarion! fill the fife! ROSCOMMON. To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life I hate that drum's discordant sound, Is worth an age without a name. Parading round, and round, and round: SIR WATER SCOTT: fhou O Aotit To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields, And lures from cities and from fields, Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds To sell their liberty for charms In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war. Of tawdry lace and glitt'ring arms, SHAKSPEARE. 66i6 WAR. This might have been prevented, and made Valiant Talbot above human thought whole Enacted wonders with his sword and lance. With very easy arguments of love; SHAKSPEARE. Which now the manage of two kingdoms must Whose glorious deeds, but in the fields of late, With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. Made emulous missions'mongst the gods them SHAKSPEARE. selves, Sound all the lofty instruments of wari, And drove great Mars to faction. And by that music let us all embrace., SHAKSPEARE. For, heav'n to earth, some of us never shall For, eav to earth, soe of us never shall He, having scarce six thousand in his troop; A second time do such a courtesy. By three and twenty thousand of the French SHAIKSPEARE. Was round encompassed and set upon. Now is the time of help: your eye in Scotland SHAKSPEARE. Would create soldiers, and make women fight. Upon his royal face there is no note SHAKSPEARE. How dread an army hath enrounded him. Witness this army, of such mass and charge, SHAKSPEARE. Led by a delicate and tender prince. Though I cannot make true wars, SHAKSPEARE. I'll frame convenient peace. SHAKSPEARE. Now, lords, if heav'n doth give successful end To this debate that bleedeth at our doors, Most shallowly did you these arms commence, We will our youth lead on to higher fields, Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence. And draw no swords but what are sanctified. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty Oh, bravely came we off, Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, When with a volley of our needless shot, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace. After such bloody toil, we bid good-night. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. You maintain several factions; France, whose armour conscience bucliled on, And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and Whom zeal and charity brought to the field. fought, SHAKSPEARE. You are disputing of your generals. SHAKSPEARE. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man *As modest stillness and humility; I drew this gallant head of war, <-~But when the blast of wlar blows in our ears, )And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, Then imitate the action of the tiger. outlook conquest, and to win renown SHAK-SPEARE. Ev'n in the jaws of danger and of death. SHAKSPEARE. One Michael Cassio, That never set a squadron in the field, By this scimitar, Nor the division of a battle knows ~ I That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince, More than a. spinster. I That won three fields of Sultan Solyman. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, With the clamorous report of war And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. Thus will I drown your exclamations. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, Will you again unknit But basely yielded, upon compromise, This churlish knot of all-abhorred war? That which his ancestors achieved with blows. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. He whined, and roar'd away your victory, Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart front. Look'd wond'ring at each other. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. WAR. 6I 7 Show a while like fearful war, Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, To diet rank minds sick of happiness, Controlment for controlment: so answer France. And purge the obstructions which begin to stop SHAKSPEARE. Our very veins of life. SHvAIeSPEARE. oVhWilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, His sword did ne'er leave strilking in the field. Farewell the tranquil mind'! farewell content! SHAKSPEARE. Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! 0, farewell! Wars'twixt you twain would be Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, As if the world should cleave, and that slain men LThe spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, Should solder up the rift. SHARSPEARE. The royal banner; and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! The armourers accomplishing the knights, And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats With busy hammers closing rivets up. The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, SHAKSPEARE. Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! SHAKSPEARE. It was my breath that blew this trumpet up, Upon your stubborn usage of the pope. No more shall trenching war channel' her fields, SHAKSPEARE. Nor bruise her flow'rets with the armed hoofs.Of hostile paces. — You cast th' event of war, my noble lord, Of hostile paces., SHAKSPEARE. And summ'd th' account of chance, before you said, Have I not in a pitched battle heard Let us make head. Loud'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpet's SHAKSIPEARE. clang? clSHASPEARE. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? Say, shall the current of our right run oni? What, shall our feasts be kept with slaughter'd SHAKSPEARE. men? Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, Arrows fled not swifter toward their aim Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp? Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, SHAKSPEARE. Fly from the field. SHAKSPEARE. He, as loving his own pride and purpose, Evades them ith a bombast circumstance, England hath long been mad and scarr'd Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war. herself; SHAKSPEARE. The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops,d been butcher to the sire. The son compell'd been butcher to the sire. The king doth smile at, and is well prepared SHArSPEARE. To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms. SHAKSPEARE. The painful warrior, famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Our army is dispersed already: Is ffrom the book of honour razed quite, Like youthful steers unyoked, they took their from the book of And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd. course SHAKSPEARE: SO1tZ-.~ XXV. East, west, north, south: or, like a school broke up, Some men with swords may reap the field, Each hurries tow'rds his home and sporting- And plant with laurels where they kill place. But their strong nerves at last must yield; SHAKSPEARE. They tame but one another still. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of war, Early or late, And brought in matter that should feed this fire; They stoop to fate, And now'tis far too huge to be blown out And must give up their murmuring breath, With that same weak wind which enkindled it. When they, pale captives, creep to death. SHAKSPEARE. JOHN SHIRLEY: Contenltion of Ajax and Ulysses. 618 WHAR. " But what good came of it at last?" Tiger with tiger, bear with bear, you'll find Quoth little Peterkin. In leagues offensive and defensive join'd; "Why, that I cannot tell," said he; But lawless man the anvil dares profane,'But'twas a famous victory." Antd forge that steel by which a man is slain, SOUTHEY: Battle of B7len/heiem. Which earth at first for ploughshares did afford, Nor yet the smith had learn'd to form a sword. Woe worth the man TATE: 7zzvezal. That first did teach the cursed steel to bite In his own flesh, and make way to the living Cannon to right of them, spirit. Cannon to left of them, SPENSER. Cannon in front of them, Fly from wrath: Volley'd and thunder'd: Sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war, Storm'd at with shot and shell, And thousand furies wait on wvrathful swords. Boldly they rode, and well: SPENSER. Into the jaws of Death, So by him C esar got the victory, Into the mouth of Hell, Through greatbloodshed, and many a sad assay. Rode the six hundred. SPENSER.. TENNYSON: CGar'e of t/e L;?,it Briw'aadre. Soon as thy dreadful trump begins to sound, Most Christian kings, inflamed by black desire, The god of war, with his fierce equipage, With honourable ruffians in their hire, Thou dost awake, sleep never he so sound. Cause war to rage, and blood around to pour: SPENSER. Of this sad work when each begins to tire, The Saracen, this hearing, rose amain, They sit them down just where they were before, And catching up in haste his three-square shield Till, for new scenes of woe, peace shall their And shining helmet, soon him buckled to the force restore. field. THOMISON.: Castle of Indolence. SPENSER. Where whole brigades one champion's arms o'er The famous warriors of the antique world throw, Used trophies to erect in stately wise, And cleave a giant at a randolm blow. In which they would the records have enroll'dTIcIsLL. Of their great deeds and valorous emprise. SPENSER. Ingenious to their ruin, ev'ry age Improves the art and instruments of rage. WVas never mall who most conquests achievedWALIER. But sometimes had the worse, and lost by war. SPENSER. Which leader shall the doubtful vict'ry bless, But battle-shout and waving plume, And give an earnest of the war's success? The drum's heart-stirring beat, WALLER. The glittering pomp of prosperous war, The glittering pop of prosperous war, Shed Christian blood, and populous cities raze, The rush of million feet, The rush of million feet, Because they're taught to use some different The magic of the minstrel's song, Which told of victories o'er,. ALLER. Are sights and sounds the dying king Shall see —shall hearl —no more! At the first shock, with blood and powder stain'd, It was the hour of deep midnight, Nor heav'n, nor sea, their former face retain'd: In the dim and quiet sky, Fury and art produce effects so strange, When, with sable cloak and'broider'd pall, They trouble nature, and her visage change. A funeral train swept by: VALLER Dull and sad fell the torches' glare On many a stately crest: The flags of war like storm-birds fly, They bore the noble warrior king The charging trumpets blow; To his last dark home of rest. Yet rolls no thunder in the sky, CHARLES SWAIN: Death of the Warrior King. No earthquake strives below. WA TER. 6 9 And, calm and patient, Nature keeps Away firom the dwellings of care-worn men, Her ancient promise well, The waters are sparkling in wood and glen. Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps MRS. HEMANS. The battle-breath of hell. VWHKITTIEIR. I Birds and flowers, song and beauty, Seem'd this rugged realm to fill; One to destroy is murder by the law, That which was my soul's entrancing And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; Was the music and the glancing To murder thousanclds takes a specious name,- Of a rock-born plashing rill. War's glorious art,-and gives immortal fame. Lingering there, I was delighted, YOUNG: Love of Fame. Musing on the days gone by, Watching its bright spray-pearls sprinkled; Every silvery tone that tinkled VVATER. Touch'd some chord of memory. Till taught by pain,'Twas as if sweet spirit-voices Men really know not what good water's worth: Threw a spell around me there: If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, Now in lightest notes of gladness, Or with a famish'd boat's crew had your berth, Now in deeper tones of sadness, Or in the desert heard the camel's bell, Wafting whispers to my ear. You'd wish yourself where truth is-in a well. Memory, hope, imagination, BYRON. Seem'd to have usurp'd my will; Andl my thloughts kep't on a-dreaming And is this the old mill-stream that ten years And my thoughts ke on a-dreaing Till the bright stars were a-gleaming ago Was so fast in its current, so pure in its flow; To the music of the rill. Whose musical waters would ripple and shine What a world of strange reflections With the glory and dash of a miniature Rhine? Came upon me then unsought! Can this be its bed?-I remember it well Strange, that sounds should find responsesWhen it sparkled like silver through meadow Where cen mystery ensconcesand dell; In the corridors of thought! Then emotions were awaken'd, When the pet lamb reposed on its emerald side,, Making my heart wildly thrill, And the minnow and perch darted swift through its tide. As I linger'd there and listen'd, its tide. ELIZA COOKI: STie Oldt WaTter-Mirll. Whilst the dew around me glisten'd, To the music of the rill. Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade, Iozise/tolar Words.' " rVater-l-Mtsic." Apt emblem of a virtuous maid:Silent and chaste she steals along, Down in valleys green and lowly, Far from the world's gay, busy throng; Murmuring not, and gliding slowly; With gefitle, yet prevailing force, Up in mountain-hollows wild, Intent upon her destined course; Fretting like a peevish child; Graceful and useful all she does, Through the hamlet, where all day Blessing and bless'd where'er she goes; In their waves the children play; Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass, Running west or running east, And heaven reflected in her face. Doing good to man and beast,COWPER: Always giving, weary never, A Comzaiisolz, addressed to a Youzg Lady. Little streams, I love you ever. MARY I1OWITT: ift/e S/reams. The modest water saw its God, and blush'd. CRASHAW. A murmuring sound Water in conduit-pipes can rise no higher Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Than the well-head from whence it first cloth Into a liquid plain; then stood unmoved, spring. Pure as th' expanse of heav'n. SIR J. DAVIES. MILTON. 620 o W4 TER. - WEA L TH. I saw from the beach, when the morning was So water, trembling in a polish'd vase, shining, Reflects the beam that plays upon its face; A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on: The sportive light, uncertain where it falls, I came when the sun o'er that beach was de- Now strikes the roof, now flashes on the walls. cining,- VIRGIL: nzeid, viii. The bark was still there, but the waters were ~~~~gonll~~e. Pure gurgling rills the lonely desert trace, MOpORE. And waste their music on the savage race. The Water! the Water! YOUNG. The joyous brook for me, That tuneth through the quiet night WEALTH. Its ever-living glee. The Water! the Water! Whate'er she meant, this truth divine That sleepless, merry heart, Is legible and plain: Which gurgles on unstintedly,'Tis power Almighty bids him shine, And loveth to impart, Nor bids him shine in vain. To all around it, some small measure To all around it, some small measure e proud and wealthy, let this theme Of its own most perfect pleasure. Teach humble thoughts to you, The Water! the Water! Since such a reptile has its gem The gentle stream for me, And boasts its splendour too. That gushes from the old gray stone VINCENT BOURNE: Beside the alder-tree. Oi the Glow- ~FVorzm, by Cozwier. The Water! the Water! rTha~t Pever-bubb]~lin.g spnriang State and wealth, the business and the crowd, I loved and look on while a child, Seems, at this distance, but a darker cloud, In deepest wondering, And is to him who rightly things esteems No other in effect than what it seems. And ask'd it whence it came and went, And when its treasures would be spent! SIR J. DENHAM. MOTHERWELL: The Water! The tWater! When wealthy, show thy wisdom not to be Then when a fountain's gurgling waters play, To wealth a servant, but make wealth serve thee. They rush to land, and end in feasts the day. SIR J. DENIAM. POPE. Compared to thee, FHow beautiful the water is! All honour's mimic, all wealth alchymy is. Didst ever think of it, DONNE. When down it.tumbles from the skies, As in a merry fit? Heav'n from all ages wisely did provide It jostles, ringing as it falls, This wealth, and for the bravest nation hide; On all that's in its way — Who with four hundred foot and forty horse I hear it dancing on the roof, Dare boldly go a new-found world to force. Like some wild thing at play. DRYDEN. And fry'rs, that through the wrealthy regions run,'Tis rushing now adown the spout, C 7 And ushin out below, Resort to farmers rich, and bless their halls, And gushing out below, Half frantic in its joyousness, I)RYDEN. And wild in eager flow. The earth is dried and parch'd with heat, That other on his friends his thoughts bestows: And it hath long'd to be The covetous worldling, in his anxious mind, Released from out the selfish cloud Thinks only on the wealth he left behind. To cool the thirsty.tree. DRYDEN. ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH: Water.. And why should such within herself," she On each hand the gushing waters play, cried, And down the rough cascade white dashing fall. " Lock the lost wealth a thousand want beside?" THOMSON. PARNELL. WEAL TH.- WEEPIVG. 621 Behold the man for generous deeds renown'd, Had he thought it fit Who in remotest regions won his fame: That wealth should be the appanage of wit, With wise munificence he scatter'd round The God of light could ne'er have been so The wealth that o'er the sea from India came. blind, To deal it to the worst of human kind. From western realms he bids dark ignorance fly SWIFT. As flies the night before the dawning rays: So long as grateful bosoms beat shall high Since by your greatness you YALE'S sons and pious fathers sing his praise. Are nearer heaven in place, be nearer it J. G. PERCIVAL: In goodness: rich men should transcend the Imitatedfromn a Latin inscription on a Porlrait pOOr, of Governor Eli/zu Yale. As clouds the earth; raised by the comfort of The sun, to water dry and barren grounds. Wealth in the gross is death, but life diffused; TOURNEUR. As poison heals, in just proportions used; In heaps, like ambergris, a sink it lies, Mylo, forbear to call him blest And well dispersed is incense to the skies. That only boasts a large estate, POPE. Should all the treasures of the west Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace; Meet, and conspire to make him great. If not, by any means get wealth and place. I know thy better thoughts; I know POPE. Thy reason can't descend so low. Let a broad stream with golden sands Now, in such exigencies not to need, Through all his meadows roll, Upon my word you must be rich indeed: He's but a wretch, with all his lands, A noble superfluity it craves, That wears a narrow soul. Not for yourself, but for your fools and knaves. POPE. DR. ISAAC WATTS: False Greatness. Their country's wealth our mightier misers drain, Glitt'ring stones, and golden things, Or cross, to plunder provinces, the main. Wealth and honours that have wings, POPE. Ever fluttering to be gone, I feel no care of coin; ( I could never call my own: Well-doing is my wealth; Riches that the world bestows, My mind to me an empire is, She can taklie, and I can lose: While grace affordeth health. But the treasures that are mine SOUTHWELL: Content and Rich. Lie afar beyond her line. When I view my spacious soul, In all that rowme was nothing to be seene And survey myself a whole, But huge great yron chests, and coffers strong,And enjoy myself alone And enjoy myself alone, All barr'd with double bends, that none could I'm a kingdom of my own. weene DR. ISAAC WATTS: Dute Riches. Them to enforce by violence or wrong: On every side they placed were along. Can wealth give happiness? look round and But all the grownd with souls were scattered see, And dead men's bones, which round about What gay distress! what splendid misery! were flong; I envy none their pageantry and show, Whose lives it seemed whilome there were shed, I envy none the gilding of their woe. And their vile carcases'now left unburied. YOUNG. SPENSER. Is time the treasury of life, And nothing to be won beyond? WEEPING. Is earth alone with riches rife, Beyond the smiling and the weeping And heavenly wealth a broken bond? I shall be soon; No: hearts that have with Jesus trod Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Shall find robe, crown, and wealth with God! Beyond the sowing and the reaping, CHARLES SWAIN: T/here is a Wireath. I shall be soon. 622 WEEPING. Love, rest, and home! When from thee, weeping, I removed, Sweet hope! And from my land for years, Lord, tarry not, but come. I thought not to return, Beloved, HORATIUS BONAR: A Little While. With those same parting tears. I come again to hill and lea, Oh, weep not for the dead! Weeping for thee. Rather, oh, rather give the tear MRs. E. B. BROWNING: Exile's Retzirn. To those who darkly linger here, When all besides are fled: Pray, pray, thou who also weepest, Weep for the spirit withering And the drops will slacen so; In its cold, cheerless sorrow^ing; TWeep, weep,-and the watch thou keepest Weep for the yonlg and lovely one With a quicker count will go. That ruin darkly revels on; Think,-the shadow on the dial, But never be a tear-drop shed For the nature most undone, For them, the pure enfr-anchised dead. Mas the passing of the trial, MARY E. BROOKS: Proves the presence of the sun. " Weep Not ftr the Deazd. MRs.. B. 3BROWNING: Foni'jfoldc Aspect. For me, my heart, that erst did go Do not weep so, dear-heart-warm! It was best as it befell! Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, If I say he did me harm, I speak wilI a not well. Would now its wearied vision close,I speak wild I am not well. Would, childlike, on His love repose All his words were kind and good, He esteem'd me Only loho "giveth His beloved sleep." He esteem'd me! Only blood Runs so faint in womanhood. And friends!-cldear friends! —-when it shall be MRS. E. B. BROWNING: That this low breatlh is gone from me, Beirtha ik the Lane. And round my bier ye come to weep, Let one, most loving of you all, On that grave drop not a tear! Say, " Not a tear must o'er her fall: Else, though fathom deep the place, He giveth His beloved sleep." Through the woollen shroud I wear MRS. E. B. BROWNING: The Sleep. I shall feel it on my face. Rather smile there, blessed one, Henceforward human eyes of lovers be Thinking of me in the sun- The only sweetest sight that I shall see, Or forget me-smiling on! With tears between the looks raised up to me: MRS. E. B. BROWNING. When, having wept all night, at break of day Ber-tha in the Lane. Above the folded hills they shall survey My light, a little trembling, in the gray. Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Ere the sorrowr comes with years? SonS' of the Aforning' Start to Lzczefr. They are leaning their young heads against Theyareleaningtheir youngheadsait Oh! weep for those that wept by Babel's streanm, their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows, dream; The young birds are chirping in the nest, Mournswhere their God hath dwelt, the godThe young fawns are playing with the shadows, less dwell. The young flowers are blowing toward the west — And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? But the young, young children, O my brother, t the young, yong cildren, 0 my brother, And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet, They are weeping bitterly ~ And Judah's melody once more rejoice They are weeping in the playtime of the others, The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice? In the country of the firee. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, Cry of the Childrien. How shall ye flee away and be at rest? WE.EPIA G. 623 The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Look how the snowy mountains Mankind their country-Israel but the grave. Heaven's sun doth gently waste. BYRON: Hebrezo 17Ielodies. But my sun's heavenly eyes View not your weeping, Say, wherefore should we weep, and wherefore View not your weeping, That now lies sleeping pour ~~~~~~~pour ~Softly, now softly lies sleeping. On scented airs the unavailing sigh, — While sun-bright waves are quivering to the Sleep is a reconciling,shore, A rest that peace begets; And landscapes blooming,-that the loved Doth not the sun rise smiling, should die? When fair at even he sets? W1LLIS GAYLORD CLARK: Rest you, then, sad eyes, Linzes written at Laurel Hill Cenzeteiy, near Melt not in weeping Phiiladelphia. While she lies sleeping Softly, now softly lies sleeping Ah! wherefore should my weeping maid suppress Ah! wherefore JOIHN DOWVLAND: Sleep. Those gentle sighs of undissembled woe? When from soft love proceeds the deep distress, I pray thee let me weep to-night; Ah! why forbid the willing tears to flow?'Tis rarely I am weeping; My tears are buried in my heart, Since for my sake each dear translucent drop Like cave-lock'd fountains sleeping Breaks forth, best witness of thy truth sincere, My lips should drink the precious mixture up, But oh, to-night, those words of thine And, ere it falls, receive the trembling tear. Have brought the past before me, COWPER. And shadows of long-vanish'd years Are passing sadly o'er me. Still with his soul severe account he kept, L. E. LANDON. Weeping all debts out ere-he slept; Then down in peace and innocence he lay, Weep on, weep on; your hour is past; Your dreams of pride are o'er; Like the sun's laborious light, our dreams of rie are o'er Lik te un' lboiough, The fatal chain is round you cast, Which still in water sets at night, The fatal chain is round you cast, Unsullied with the journey of the day. And you are men no more. COWPER. In vain the hero's healt hath bled: The sage's tongue hath warn'd in vain: Tears flow, and cease not, when the good man Oh, Freedom! once thy flame hath fled, dies, It never lights again. Till all who know him follow to the slies. MOORE: IW Fee2 on, WTIeep on. Tears therefore fall where Chester's ashes sleep;,Weep not for him that dieth; Him, wife, friends, brothers, children, servants For he sleeps and is at rest, weep,9 And the couch whereon he lieth And justly: few shall ever him transcend Is the green earth's quiet breast: As husband, parent, brother, master, friend. COvWPER: But weep for him who pineth On a far land's hateful shore, Who wearily declineth, Thou weepest for a sister! In the bloom Where ye see his face no mnore! And spring-time of her years to Death a prey, Weep not for him that dieth; Shrouded fiom love by the remorseless tombr friends are round his bed, For friends are round his bed, Taken from all life's joys and griefs away. And many a young lip sigheth And many a young lip sigheth'Tis hard to part with one so sudden call'd, When they name the early dead: So young, so happy, and so dearly loved; To see the arrow at our idol hurl'd, Where none wil know or care And vainly pray the shaft may be removed. When the groan his faint heart giveth MARY ANN H. DODD: The M~ourner. Is the last sigh of despair. Weep you no more, sad fountains: MRS. NORTON: What need you flow so fast? SWeep Notfor Him that Dieit,. 624 WE~EPING. WICKEDzNESS. There was a time Why should we sigh?-The fairy charm her cries and sorrows That bound each sense in folly's chain Were not despised; when, if she chanced to Is broke, and Reason, clear and calm, sigh, Resumes her holy rights again. Or but look sad, a fi-iend or parent Why should we sigh that earth no more Would have ta'en her in his arms, Claims the devotion once approved? Eased her declining head upon his breast, Claims the devotion once a, That joys endear'd with us are o'er, And never left her till he found the cause: An n let her And gone are those whose hearts have loved? Why should we sigh? —Unfading bliss Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst S t~, u ~Survives the narrow grasp of time; Her heart asunder, she is disregarded. And those that ask'd our tears in this, OTWAY: Venice Preserved. Shall render smiles in yonder clime. Inl silence weep, )WILLIAM B. TAPPAN: And thy convulsive sorrows inward keep. Wt:hy Should te SigZ? PRIOR. I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now; I so lively acted with my tears, You'll kiss me, my own mother, and forgive rne That my poor mistress, moved therewithal, Wept bitterly. WtieySHAKSPEARE. \ Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild; Larded all with sweet flowers, You should not fret for me, mother, —you have Which bewept to the grave did go, another child. With true love showers. TENNYSON: Nezo- Year's Eve. SHAKSPEARE. Love, Gratitude, and Pity wept at once. This heart shall break into a thousand flaws THOMXSON. Or ere I weep. Thus weeping urges weeping on; SHAKSPEARE. In vain our miseries hope relief; Old fond eyes, For one drop calls another down, Till we are drown'd in seas of grief~ Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you. out, And cast you with the waters that you lose, Then let these useless streams be staid, To temper clay. Wear native courage in your face: SHAKSPEARE. These vulgar things were never made For souls of a superior race. I weep, but not rebellious tears; For souls of a superior race. DR. IsAAC WATTS: Affainst Tears. I mourn, but not in hopeless woe; I droop, but not with doubtful fears; And weep and howl, ye evil priests and mighty For whom I've trusted, Him I know. men of wrong; Lord, I believe; assuage my grief, The Lord shall smite the proud and lay his And help, oh! help my unbelief. hand upon the strong. Woe to the wicked rulers in His avenging hour!'-My days of youth and health are o'er; Woe to the wolves who seek the flocks to raven My early friends are dead and gone; and devour. And there are times it tries me sore WHITTIER: Cassandra Southwzicek. To think I'm left on earth alone. < But yet Faith whispers, "'Tis not so: WICKEDNESS. He will not leave, nor let thee go." CAROILINE ANNE SOUTHEY: Few are so wicked as to take delight Sandicts/edt Afflictions. In crimes unprofitable. DRYDEN. Why should we sigh when Fancy's dream,- But since thy veins paternal virtue fires, The ray that shone'mid youthful tears,- Go and succeed! the rival aims despise; Departing, leaves no kindly gleam For never, never wicked man was wise. To cheer the lonely waste of years? POPE. WIFE. 625 The wicked with anxiety of mind Quoth Dick to Tom, The act appears Shall pine away, in sighs consume their breath. Absurd, as I'm alive, - SANDYS. To take the crown at eighteen years, The wife at twenty-five. What rein can hold licentious wickedness When down the hill he holds his fierce career? The mystery how shall we explain? SHAKSPEARE. For sure, as wise men said, Thus early if they're fit to reign, They must be fit to wed. WIFE. Quoth Tom to Dick, Thou art a fool! Men dying make their wills, And little know'st of life: But wives escape a task so sad: Alas,'tis easier- to rule Why should they make what all their lives A kingdom than a wife! The gentle dames have had? 4Al the Year Rozund (quoted). "Royal 2Marriage Act." I want (who does not want?) a wife, Nay, Sweet! no thought, not any thought, Affectionate and fair, At least not any thought of you To solace all the woes of life, But what must thank dear love. Nor aught And all its joys to share; Of love's mistrust between us two Of temper sweet, of yielding will, Can ever creep. Thank God, we keep Of firm yet placid mind, Too close to let thin doubts slip through. With all my faults to love me still With sentiment refined. And leave a scar where they divide JOHN QUINCY ADAMS: Hearts meant by Heaven to hold together.. Thze Wants of Masan. So, soul by soul, as side by side, We sit. Thought wanders hither, thither Sweet, slippery silver of her talk, From star to star, yet not so far And music of her laugh so dear, But what, at end of all its tether, Heard in home-ways and wedded walk For many and many a golden year; It feels the beating of your heart, The singing soul and shining face, To which mine bound it long ago. Daisy-like glad, by roughest road,- Our love is perfect; every part Gone! with a thousand dearnesses Love's utmost, reach'd at last, must so That hid themselves for us and glow'd. Henceforth abide. All the Year Round. " Side by Side." The waiting angel, patient wife, All through the battle at our side, Then rose the captain, sternly sad, and where That smiled her sweetness on our strife the sun had set For gain, and it was sanctified: He waved one hand, and cried, in tones which When waves of trouble beat breast-high, could command them yet, And the heart sank, she pour'd a balm "Oh, comrades! will you see His works, and That still'd them, and the saddest sky doubt that He can still Made clear and starry with'her calm. Save e'en in the eleventh hour, if such should be His will? And when the world, with harvest ripe, In all its golden fulness lay, "Oh, whilst there's life, despair not'! Have we And God, it seem'd, saw fit to wipe mothers, children, wives? Even on earth, our tears away,- Does not their memory give us all the strength The good, true heart that bravely won, of double lives? Must smile up in our face, and fall: Mind ye not how the widow's cruse, though And all our happy days are done, wasted, fill'd again? And this the end! And is this all? We've yet the widow's God o'erhead, and yet A11 the Year Round.' " A Letter in B2lack." a little grain. 40o 626 WITFE. " Oh, tender wives, who live for us, our hearts Proves more unchanging love for me consent to take Than labour'd words could speak. A little hope, a little faith, for your beloved THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY: To hzis W2f. sake. Oh, children of our dearest love! oh, pleasant Oh, don't go in to-night, John! home ashore! Now, husband, don't go in! Our souls can brave a thousand deaths to call To spend our only shilling, John, Would be a cruel sin! ye ours once more!" Would e a cruel sin All4 the Year Round:. " The Goclden Bee." There's not a loaf at home, John; There's not a coal, you know; He hides, at heart of his rough life, Though with hunger I am faint, John, A world of sweetness for the wife; And cold comes down the snow. From his rude breast a babe can press Then don't go in to-night! Soft milk of human tenderness, Make his eyes water, his heart dance, Ah, John, you must rememer, And sunrise in his countenance;,,, In merry mood his ale he quaffs When never foot of yours, John, Was in the ale-house set. By firelight, and his blithe heart laughs, The mild great-hearted Norseman! Ah, those were happy times, John! All the Year Round.- " The Norseman." No quarrels then e knew, And none were happier in our lane The butterfly, which sports on gaudy wing,- Than I, dear John, and you. The brawling brooklet, lost in foam and Then don't go in to-night. spray, W. C. BENNETT: Tze Wife's A/tpeal. As it goes dancing on its idle way, — As it goes dancing on its idle way, — Your wedding-ring wears thin, dear wife; ah, The sunflower, in broad daylight glistening, — our we g wears hin, dear Are types of her who in the festive ring summers not a few, Lives but to bask in fashioln's vain display, Since I put it on your finger first, have pass'd And glittering through her bright but useless o'er me and you; day, And, love, what changes we have seen-what "Flaunts, and goes down a disregarded thing!" cares and pleasures tooSince you became my own dear wife, when this Thy emblemn, Lucy, is the busy bee, Whose industry for future hours provides; old ring was new The gentle streamlet, gladding as it glides Oh, blessings on that happy day, the happiest Unseen along; the flower which gives the lea of my life, Fragrance and loveliness, are types of thee, When, thanks to God, your low, sweet "Yes" And of the active worth thy modest merit made you my loving wife; hides. Your heart will say the same, I know; that BERNARD BARTON: Soznnet to his Wife. day'sas dear to you,That day that made me yours, dear wife, when Oh! hadst thou never shared my fate, this old ring was new. More dark that fate would prove; My heart were truly desolate How well do I remember now your young Without thy soothing love. sweet face that day! But thou hast suffer'd for my sake, How fair you were, how dear you were, my Whilst this relief I found, tongue could hardly say! Like fearless lips that strive to take Nor how I doted on you; ah, how proud I The poison from a wound. was of you! But did I love you more than now, when this My fond affection thou hast seen; old ring was new? Then judge of my regret, To think more happy thou hadst been No-no; no fairer were you then than at this If we had never met! hour to me; And has that thought been shared by thee? And dear as life to me this day, how could you Ah, no! that smiling cheek dearer be? WIPFE. 62'7 As sweet your face might be that day as now it Cursed be the man, the meanest wretch in life, is,'tis true, The crouching vassal of a tyrant wife; But did I know your heart as well, when this Who has no wish but by her high permission, old ring was new? Who has no purse except in her possession. W. C. BENNETT: Tze Worn Wedding-Ring. Were such the wife who'd fallen to my part, I'd break her spirit, or I'd break her heart. Though smiling crowds around me be, BURNS: Tam O'Shanter. The kind, the beautiful, the good; How blest has my time been! what joys have For I can only think of thee; Iknown (Of thee, the kindest, loveliest, best, Since wedlock's soft bondage made Jessy my My earliest and my only one! own Without thee I am all unbless'd, Withou t t hee I am all unbless'de alSo joyful my heart is, so easy my chain, That freedom is tasteless, and roving a pain. Afar from thee! the words of praise Through walks grown with woodbines as often My listless ear unheeded greet; we stray, What sweetest seem'd in better days, Around us our boys and girls frolic and play: Without thee seems no longer sweet. How pleasing their sport is! the wanton ones see, The dearest joy farme can bestow And borrow their looks from my Jessy and me. Is in thy moisten'd eye to see, To try her sweet temper, ofttimes am I seen'And in thy cheek's unusual glow, In revels all day with the nymphs on the green: Thou deem'st me not unworthy thee! Though painful my absence, my doubts she Afar from thee! the night is come, beguiles, But slumbers from my pillow flee: An.d meets me at night with complacence and Oh, who can rest so far from home? smiles. And my heart's home is, love, with thee. HENRY CAREY: Th'e H.fiapy fzarsriage. I kneel me down in silent prayer, I kneel me down in silent prayer, A good Wife was there of beside Bath, And then I know that thou art nigh; And then I know that thou art igh; But she was some deal deaf, and that was scath. For God, who seeth everywhere, For God, who seeth everywhere, Of cloth-making she hadde such an haunt Bends o'er us both his watchful eye. th She pass'd them of Ypres and of Gaunt. GEO. W. BETHUNE: To AMy Vife. In all the parish, wife ne was there none Husbandc, husband, cease your strife, That to the off'ring before her should gone, Nor longer idly rave, sir; And if there did, certain so wroth was she, Though I am your wedded wife, That she was out of alle charity. Yet I am not your slave, sir. BURNS. CHAUCER: CGazner/uly Tales. BURINS. She is a winsome wee thing, She is a winsoe wee thing, Thus died, lamented, in the strength of life, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, A valued mother and a faithful wife: She is a bonny wee thing, She is ta bonny w~ee thing, Call'd not away when time had loosed each This sweet wee wife o' mine. hold I never saw a fairer, On the fond heart, and each desire grew cold; I never lo'ed a dearer, But when to all that knit us to our kind And neist my heart I'll wear her, She felt fast bound, as charity can bind; For fear my jewel tine. Not when the ills of age, its pain, its care, She is a winsome wee thing, The drooping spirit for its fate prepare, She is a handsome wee thing, And each affection failing leaves the heart She is a bonnie wee thing, Loosed from life's charm, and willing to deThis sweet wee wife o' mine. part:The warld's wraclk, we share ~o', But all her ties the strong invader broke, In all their strength, by one tremendous stroke! The warstle and the care o'tt, Wi' her I'll blithely bear it, And think my lot divine. What is there in the vale of life BURNS: My Wife's a ti'nsome Wee Tizin.. Half so delightful as a wife, 628 WIFE. When friendship, love, and peace combine And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her To stamp the marriage-bond divine? cheek, The stream of pure and genuine love And the future look'd blooming and gay: Derives its current fiom above; And with woman's devotion she laid her fond And earth a second Eden shows heart Where'er the healing water flows. At the shrine of idolatrous love, COWPER. And she anchor'd her hopes to this perishing earth, Alas! and is domestic strife, earth, That sorest ill of human life, By the chain which her tenderness wove. That sorest ill of human life, A plague so little to be feard But I saw when those heart-strings were bleedA plague so little to be fear'd ing and torn, As to be wantonly incurr'dng and torn, And the chain had been sever'd in two, To gratify a fretful passion, She had changed her white robes for the sables On every trivial plrovocation? The kindest and the happiest pair of grief, WA ill find occasion to forbear, And her bloom for the paleness of woe! But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her And something, every day they live, lheart, To pity, and perhaps forgive: heart, But if infirmities that fall And wiping the tears friom her eyes, But if infirmities that fall And he strengthen'd the chain he had broken In colmmlon to the lot of all, A blemish, or a sense impair'd, in twain, And fasten'd it firm to the skies! Are crimes so little to be spared, Then farewell all that must create There had whisper'd a voice-'twas the voice Then farewell all that must create The comfort of the wedded state; of her God! " I love thee-I love thee! pass under the rod!" Instead of harmony,'tis jar Instead of arMARY S. B. DANA: Passing Unlzer The Rod. And tumult and intestine war. COWPER: Jiituatl Forbearance Necessary to the tIapfpiness Husband and wife! No converse now ye hold, of the Married State. As once ye did in your young day of love, On its alarms, its anxious hours, delays, The love that cheers life's latest stage, Its silent meditations and glad hopes, Proof against sickness and old age, Its fears, impatience, quiet sympathies; Preserved by virtue from declension, Nor do ye speak of joy assured, and bliss Because not weary of attention, Full, certain, and possess'd. Domestic cares But lives, when that exterior grace Call you not now together. Earnest talk Which first inspired the flame decays, On what your children may be moves you not.'Tis gentle, delicate and kind, You lie in silence, and an awful silence: To faults compassionate or blind, Not like to that in which ye rested once And will with sympathy endure Most happy,-silence eloquent, when heart Thdse evils it'would gladly cure. With heart held speech, and your mysterious. But angry, coarse, and harsh expression frames, Shows love to be a mere profession,- Harmonious, sensitive, at every beat Proves that the heart is none of his, Touch'd the soft notes of love. Or soon expels him if it is. RICHARD H. DANA: COWPER: The HIarisband and Wi4fe's Grave. AIutual Folrbearance Necessary to the Ha5ppiness of the Miar cried State. I could have stemm'd misfortune's tide, And borne the rich one's sneer, His warm but simple home, where he enjoys, And braved the haughty glane of pride With her who shares his pleasure and his heart, Sweet converse. Nor shed a single tear. Sweet converse. COWPER: TasK. I could have smiled on every blow From life's full quiver thrown, I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride, While I might gaze on thee, and know Bedeckl;'d in her snowy array; I should not be " alone." WIFE. 629 I could —I think I could-have brook'd, Pray but for half the virtues of this wife; E'en for a time, that thou Compound for all the rest with longer life. Upon my fading face hadst look'd DRYDEN. With less of love than now; For then I should at least have felt Bone-weary, many-childed, trouble-tried! For then I should at least have felt The sweet hope still my own Wife of my bosom, wedded to my soul! The sweet hope still my own Mother of nine that live, and two that died! This day drink health from nature's mountain On earth, not been "alone." ANNE PEYRE DINNIES: ThFe Wi[fe. Nay, why lament the doom which mocks ccn-'Tis not in Hymen's gay, propitious hour, trol? With summer beams and genial breezes blest, The buried are not lost, but gone before: That man a consort's worth approveth best; Then dry thy tears, and see the river roll'Tis when the skies with gloomy tempest lower, O'er rocks, that crown'd yon time-dark heights When cares and sorrows all their torrents pour. of yore, GEORGE HAY DRUMMOND. Now, tyrant-like, dethroned, to crush the weak This fair defect, this helpless aid, call'd wife, no more. The bending crutch of a decrepit life. DRYDEN. The young are with us yet, and we with them: 0 thank the Lord for all he gives or takes, — A wife so hung with virtues, such a freight, The wither'd bud, the living flower, or gem! What mortal shoulders can support? And lie will bless us when the world forsakes! DRYDEN. Lo! where thy fisher-born, abstracted, takes,'Tis the procession of a funeral vow, With his fix'd eyes, the trout he cannot see! Which cruel laws to Indian wives allow, Lo! starting friom his earnest dream, he wakes! When fatally their virtue they approve, While our glad Fanny, with raised foot and knee, Cheerful in flames, and martyrs of their love. Bears down at Noe's side the bloom-bow'd DRYDEN. hawthorn-tree. EBENEZER ELLIOTr: The Excursion. This cursed quarrel be no more renew'd; Be, as becomes a wife, obedient still, That man must lead a happy life Though grieved, yet subject to her husband's will. Who is directed by a wife; DRYDEN. Who's free from matrimonial chains But still he held his purpose to depart; Is sure to suffer for his pains. For, as he loved her equal to his life, He would not to the seas expose his wife. DRYDEN. Till he beheld a woman's face; When Eve was given for a mate, Can Ceyx then sustain to leave his wife, Adam was in a happy state. And unconcern'd forsake the sweets of life? Epir-am on Matrimony.ines to be reod alte,DRYDEN. te2-nafte,,-first and third, second and fourth, Lord of yourself, uncumber'd with a wife. fifth and seven'h, sixth and ei,grlhth. DRYDEN. You shall swear by custom of confession Ev'n goddesses are women; and no wife If ever you made nuptial transgression. Has pow'r to regulate her husband's life. Be you either married man or wife, DRYDEN. If you have brawls or contentious strife; Remember, sir, your fury of a wife; Or otherwise at bed, or at board, Who, not content to be revenged on you, Offended each other in deed or word; The agents of your passion will pursue. Or since the parish clelk said "Amen" DRYDEN. Yo' wish'd y'rselves unmarried agen, Or in a twelvemonth and a day Since you deny him entrance, he demands Repented not in thought any way, His wife, whom cruelly you hold in bands. But continued true in thought and desire, DRYDEN. As when you join'd hands in the quire. 630 WYIFE. If to these conditions, without all feare, Beneath whose flaunting blooms and shadeless Of your own accord you will freely sweare, bowers A whole gammon of bacon you shall receive, He can receive as flaunting company,And bear it hence with love and good leave: I can forgive thee, knowing that I hold, For this is our custom at Dunmowxv ell knowne: Alone of all, the key of purest gold Though the pleasure be ours, the bacon's your That locks the gate beyond, whose golden trellis own. Shuts out the common herd and shuts in me, Folnio of the Oat tzaken by tzose azt Dunmzoz whdo'Mid nightingales and fountains, where a palace a~'e to have tte Ba-clz, " befbre ]b'io? alzd e to have the Bacon, bee Pio and Hymen hath built, and I alone with thee Convenft and t/e wo/ae TownZV, /Zilb/y kneeliez,-, Can dwell while both shall live, supreme to inz the Church-yard uzon Twzo Hared Poinzted eign reign Stones." The rightful queen of this my fair domain. Afield I went, amid the morning clew, So I forgive thee, husband, yes, I pardon, To milk my kine; for so should housewives do. I give thee back the love I had withdrawn; Love —ay, but not the same love! that gay garCan she be faithful to her luckless lord den, Who will be absent in affliction's hour? With all its florid flowers, its dance-trod lawn, Is it not then the lenient hand of love Its painted butterflies, a tomb contains, Proves its best office? then the virtuous wife Wherein lie buried Trust's poor cold remains. Shines in the full meridian of her truth, Hozuse/oldT Woiods. "A Tiife's Pa;rdonz." And clailms her part of sorrow? By love directed, I would choose a wife, HAVARD): AiZng Char-les I..To improve my bliss, and ease the load of life. If thou owert hy my side, myll love, Hail, wedlock! hail, inviolable tie! How fast would evening fail Perpetual fountain of domestic joy! In green Bengala's palmy grove, Love, friendship, honour, truth, and pure deListening the nightingale! light IHarmonious mingle in the nuptial rite. If thou, my love, wert by my side, In Eden first the holy state began, My babies at my knee, Z ow gayly would our pinnace glide When perfect innocence distinguish'd man. I-Howv gayly would our pinnace glide WILLIAM LIVINGSTON: O'er Gunga's mimic sea! WILLIA PPhilosophic Solitude.- a Poem. I miss thee at the cdawn-Tlaing gray, i How much the wife is dearer than the bride! When, on our deck reclined, LORD LYTTELTON: Az Irregarll Ode. In careless ease my limbs I lay, In careless ease my limbs I lay, The sum of all that makes a just man happy And woo the cooler wind. Consists in the well-choosing of his wife; BISHOP HEBER: To 7is ItZjife. And there, well to discharge it, does require Be sweet to all: is thy complexion sour? Equality of years, of birth, of fortune; Then keep such company, make them thy For beauty, being poor, and not cried up allay; By birth or wealth, can truly mix with neither. Get a sharp wife, a servant that will low'r: And wealth, when there's such difference in A stumbler stumbles least in rugged way. years GEORGE HERBERT.'And fair descent, must make the.yoke uneasy. Now that the first wild pang is past and over, MASSINGER: Neo Way to Pay O/dDebts. Now I have learn'd to accept it as a truth "Leicester," she cried, "is this thy love That men love not as women, that the lover That thou so oft hast sworn to me, To whom the woman gives herself, her youth, To leave me in this lonely grove Her trust, her love, her worship,-in his heart, Immured in shameful privity? Just on the surface,-keeps a spot apart, "No more thou com'st, with lover's speed, Deckl'd with gay weeds, and painted flies and' Thy once beloved bride to see: flowers, Be she alive or be she dead, Bright to the eye, all scentless though they be, I fear, stern Earl,'s the same to thee. WIFE. 631 c( Not so the usage I received The next I took to wife, When happy in my father's hall: (O that I never had! fond wish too late!) No faithless husband then me grieved, Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila; No chilling fears did me appall. That specious monster, my accomplish'd snare. MILTON. " I rose up with the cheerful morn, When first, beloved, in vanish'd hours, No lark so blithe, no flower more gay; A like thebid hantshetornThe blind man sought thy love to gain, And, like the bird that haunts the thorn, I merrily sung the livelong day. They said thy cheek was bright as flowers I merrily sung the livelong day. New freshen'd by the summer rain: If that my beauty is but small, They said thy movements, swift yet soft, Among court ladies all despised, Were such as make the winged dove Why didst thou rend it from that hall Seem, as it gently soars aloft, Where, scornful Earl, it well was prized?" The image of repose and love. MICKLE: Czimzlor Hall. They told me, too, an eager crowd Favour'd of heav'n who finds Of wooers praised thy beauty rare, One virtuous rarely found, But that thy heart was all too proud That in domestic good combines: A common love to meet or share. Happy that house I his way to peace is smooth. Ah! thine was neither pride nor scorn, MILTON. But in thy coy and virgin breast Dwelt preference not of passion born,For nothing lovelier can be found The love that hath a holier rest! In woman, than to study household good, MRS. NORTON: And good works in her husband to promote. The Blind Man to huis Bride. MILTON. Give me, next good, an understanding wife, To thy husbavndr's will By nature wise, not learned by much art; Thine shall submllit: hle over thee lshall rule. Some knowledge on her side will, all her life, MILTON. More scope of conversation then impart, W~hat thou bidcldest Besides her inborn virtue fortify: Unargued I~ obey; so God orldains: They are most firmly good that best know why. God is thy law; thou mine: to know no more A passive understanding to conceive, Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. And judgment to discern, I wish to find; MILTON. Beyond that, all as hazardous I leave: Adcorn'dcl: Learning and pregnant wit, in womanlakind, What it finds malleable makes frail, Shle was indeed, and lovely, to attract hat it fIds lalleale nles frail, Thy love; idee, tndlyosve, ctio AirAnd doth not add more ballast, but more sail. Thy love; not thy suljection. MILTON. Books are a part of man's prerogative; In formal ink they thoughts and voices hold, She;ll to realities yield all her shows: That we to them our solitude may give, Made so adorn for thy delight the more. Andl make time present travel that of old Our life fame pieceth longer at the end, Adam, by his wife's allurement, fell. And books it farther backward doth extend. MILTON. SIR THOMAS OVERBURY: The Wif2e. This woman, whom thou mad'st to be my help, This woman, whom thou mad'st to he my help, Old Time has dimm'd the lustre of her eyes that And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, brightly shone, So fit, so acceptable, so divine, *And her voice has lost the sweetness of its girlSo fit, so acceptable, so divine, That from her hand I could expect no ill. MILTON. But her heart is still as cheerful as in early days of life, The wife And as fondly as I prized my bride, I love my Safest and seemliest by her husband stays. dear old wife! MILTON. J. B. PHILLIPS. 632 WIF E. Yet why complain?-what though fond hopes Across the threshold led, deferr'd And every tear kiss'd off as soon as shed, Have overshadow'd Youth's green paths with His house she enters,-there to be a light, gloom! Shining within, when all without is night; Still, joy's rich music is not all unheard,- A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, There is a voice sweeter than thine, sweet Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing; bird, Winning him back, when mingling with the To welcome me, within my humble home; throng, There is an eye with love's devotion bright, Back from a world we love, alas! too long, The darkness of existence to illunme! To fireside happiness, to hours of ease, Then why complain? when death shall cast his Blest with that charm, the certainty to please. blight How oft her eyes read his; her gentle mind Over the spirit, then my bones shall rest To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined, Beneath these trees, and from thy swelling Still subject-ever on the watch to borrow breast Mirth of his mirth, and sorrow of his sorrow. O'er them thy song shall pour like a rich flood ROGERS. of light. ALBERT PIKE: To the Moclkitzg-Bird. My wife, the kindest, dearest, and the truest That ever wore the name. Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair: ROWE. With matchless impudence they style a wife Fye! fye! unknit that threat'ning unkind The dear-bought curse and lawful plague of brow; lifosome, seq~ent, a dmestic evilAnd dart not scornful glances from those eyes, A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: A night invasion, and a midday devil. LAe night thewinvasion, and a midday devil. rega It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads; Let not the wise these slancl'rous words regard, the Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair But curse the bones of ev'ry lying bard: buds All other goods by Fortune's hand are given,- And in no sense is meet or amiable. A wife is the peculiar gift of Heaven. SHAKSPEARE. A wife! ah, gentle deities, can he That has a wife e'er feel adversity? I am ashamed that women are so simple Would men but follow what the sex advise, To offer war where they should kneel for peace; All things would prosper, all the world grow Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, wise. When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. POPE. SHAKSPEA RE. Some greedy minion or imperious wife Happy in this, she is not yet so old The trophied arches, storied halls, invades. But she may learn; happier than this, POPE. She is not bred so dull but she can learn; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit By the dire fury of a trait'ress wife Commits itself to yours to be directed, Ends the sad evening of a stormy life. As from her lord, her governor, her king. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. She who ne'er answers till her husband cools, She is mine own! Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules, And I as rich in having such a jewel Charms by accepting, by submitting sways, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, Yet has her humour most when she obeys. The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. POPE. SHAKSPEARE. If any sins afflict our life I will be master of what is mine own: With that prime ill, a talking wife, She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, Till death shall bring the kind relief My household stuff, my field, my barn, We must be patient, or be deaf. My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. WIFE. 633 Were she as rough I crave fit disposition of my wife, As are the swelling Adriatic seas. Due preference of place and exhibition, I come to wive it wealthily in Padua. As levels with her breeding. SHAKSPEARE. SHARSPEARE. The ancient saying is no heresy, Should all despair Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind SIAKSPEARE. Would hang themselves. SHAKSPEARE. Since that respects of fortune are his love, I shall not be his wife. All day, like some sweet bird, content to sing SHAKISPEARE. In its small cage, she moveth to and fro, You were to blame,-I must be plain with And ever and anon will upward spring To you,- To her sweet lips, fresh from the fount below, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift. The murmur'l melody of pleasant thought, SHAIRSPEARE. Unconscious utter'd, gentle-toned and low. Light household duties, evermore inwrought Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Vith placid fancies of one trusting heart Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, That lives ut in her smile, and turns, And for thy maintenance; commits his body From life's cold seeming and the busy mart, To painful labour, both by sea and land; With tenderness, that heavenward ever yearns To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, To be refresh'd where one pure altar burns, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; Shut out from hence the mockery of life: And craves fno other tribute at thy hands Thus liveth she content, the meek, fond, trusting But love, fair looks, and true obedience,- wife. Too little payment for so great a debt. ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH: The Wife. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband: When the black-letter'd list to the gods was And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, presented And not obedient to his honest will, (The list of what fate for each mortal intends), What is she, but a foul contending rebel, At the long string of ills a kind goddess reAnd graceless traitor to her loving lord? lented, SHAKSPEARE. And slipp'd in three blessings,-wife, chilIn bed he slept not, for my urging it; dren, and friends. At board he fed not, for my urging it. SHAKRSPEARE. Wi4fe, Childrien, anZd Friends. O my life! —my wife! Why is a handsome wife adored Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, By every coxcomb but her lord? Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: From yonder puppet-man inquire, Thou art not conquer'd: beauty's ensign yet Who wisely hides his wood and wire. Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, SWIFT. And death's pale flag is not advanced there. SHAI(SPEARE. She was a creature framed by love divine For mortal love to muse a life away Why left you wife and children, In pondering her perfections; so unmoved Those precious motives, those strong knots of Amidst the world's contentions, if they touch'd love? love?PEARE. No vital chord, nor troubled what she loved, Philosophy might look her in the face, I've been to you a true and humble wife, And, like a hermit stooping to the well At all tines to your will conformable: That yields him sweet refreshment, might therein Ever in fear to kindle your dislike. See but his own serenity reflected SHAK(SPEARE. With a more heavenly tenderness of hue! My wife is in a wayward mood to-day; HENRY TAYLOR: I tell you,'twould sound harshly in her ears. P/Aiiip Vnn Artlevelde (Artevelde's Character of SHAKSPEARE. Sis Wife). 634 WIFE.- WVI1VTE R. As through the land at eve we went, I stood in the deserted street, And pluck'd the ripen'd ears, A child that never saw a flower, We fell out, my wife and I,- Till, looking upwards, God unveil'd Oh, we fell out, I know not why,- The face of beauty in that hour. And kiss'd again with tears. Around, the city, dark and dunmb, For when we came where lies the child Ahove, the gleaming mystery, Above, the gleaniing mystery, We lost iln other years, I stood like one who views afar There above the little grave,- The flashing of an awful sea. Oh, there above the little grave,- Like the Like the bright fingers of a god, That sweep creation's mystic bars, TENNYSON: Princess.. They seem'd on night's weird harp to wake The song of all th' eternal stars. Oh! Love, first love, so full of hope and truth, og of all' eteral stars. A guileless maiden and a gentle youth. Their shaking glory fill'd my trance, Through arches of wreathed rose they take their With eyes turn'd upward, wonder-wide, way, Till every wave of pulsing joy He the fresh Morning, she the better May, Rose towering in a swell of pride.'Twixt jocund hearts and voices jubilant, I bless'd the night, I bless'd the stars, And unseen gods that guard on either hand, I bless'd the chance that found me there, And blissful tears, and tender smiles that fall But chief, the floods of streaming light, On her dear head-great summer over all! Like young Aurora's golden hair. While Envy, of the triumph half afraid, Slinks, like a dazzled serpent, to the shade. A still their shitig glow shall arm FREDERICIK TENNYSON: SThe Briidal. The winters of my life again, Their phantom banners wave sublime It is too much, we daily hear, Across the night's star-flowery plain. To wive and thrive both in one year. They fill'd my heart with wild delight, TUSSER. And bade my yearning soul aspire To Nature's altar crown'd with song A spaniel, a wife, and a walnut-tree, A And bright with beauty's golden fire. The more you beat them the better they be. All /he YeaZ R lound.- " VoA'ht/ern Lz,ts.' Twiss's Eldon, iii. I36. I wander forth this chill December dawn. You graced the several parts of life: Frost and his tiny elves are out, I see, A spotless virgin, and a faultless wife. As husy as the fairy world can be, Clothing a world asleep with fleecy lawn; Design or chnce ales others wive,'Mid the blue silence of the evening hours But nature did this match contrive. Theyglimmerl cluslclydoln from skyeybowers, WALLER. And featly have they labour'd all night long, Cheering their labour with a half-heard rhyme — Is't not enough plagues, wars, and famines rise Low as the burthen of a shepherd's song To lash our crimes, but must our wives be wise? When Echo moans it over hills of thyme. YOUNG: Love of Fame. There is a hush of music on the air,The white-wing'd fairies faltering everywhere; And here and there, WINTER. Made by a sudden mingling as they fall, But hoary winter, unadorn'd and bare, There comes a softer lullaby than all, Dwells in the dire retreat, and freezes there. Swept in upon the universal prayer. ADDISON. A4l tde Year.Roznd.: " Snow." December hung her glittering roof Oh, where do fairies hide their heads Of frosty sunshine o'er the earth, When snow lies on the hills,The streamers danced across the night When frost has spoil'd their mossy beds Like angels in a troop of mirth. And crystallized their rills? /fWINTER. 635 Beneath the moon they cannot trip Poor Robin sits and sings alone, In circles o'er the plain; When showers of driving sleet, And draughts of dew they cannot sip, By the cold winds of winter blown, Till green leaves come again. The cottage casement beat. Come, let us share our chimney-nook, Perhaps in small, blue diving-bells, And dry his dripping wing: They plunge beneath the waves, little Mary shuts her hook See, little Mary shuts her book, Inhabiting the wreathed shells And cries, "Poor Robin, sing!" That lie in coral caves. Perhaps, in red Vesuvius, Methinks I hear his faint reply,Carousals they maintain, "When cowslips deck the plain, And cheer their little spirits thus, The lark shall carol in the sky, Till green leaves come again. And I shall sing again. "But in the cold and wintry day When they return, there will be mirth, To you I owe a debt, And music in the air, That in the sunshine of the May And fairy wings upon the earth, I never can forget." And im-ischief everywhere: WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES: The maids, to keep the elves aloof, sinter.' "eledbreasst." Will bar the doors in vain; No key-hole will be fairy-proof, Stand here by my side, and turn, I pray, When green leaves come again. On the lake below, thy gentle eyes; THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY: The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, Ohz, Where Do Fairies Hide Their Heads? And dark and silent the water lies; And out of that frozen mist the snow The good, the brave, the beautiful, wavering flakes begins to flow; How dreamless is their sleep, Flake after flake, WVhelre rolls the cdilrge-like music (: They sink in the dark and silent lake. Of the ever-tossing deep! BRYANT. Or where the hurrying night winds I saw him on his throne, far in the North, Pale winter's robes have spread Above the narrow palaces, Him ye call Winter, picturing him ever Above the narrow palaces, In the cities of the dead An aged man, whose frame, with palsied shiver, Bends o'er the fiery element, his foe. PARKIS BENJAMIN: T'he Deposite& But him I saw was a young god, whose brow Was crown'd with jagged icicles, and forth'Tis Winter now-but Spring will blossom soon, From his keen spirit-like eyes there shone a And flowers will lean to the embracing air,- light And the young buds will vie with them to:Broad, glaring, and intensely cold and bright. share sHis breath, like sharp-edged arrows, *pierced Each zephyr's soft caress; and when the moon the air; 1Bends her new silver bow, as if to fling The naked earth crouch'd shuddering at his Her arrowy lustre through some vapour's wing, feet; The streamlets will return the glance of night finger on all urmluring waters sweet From their pure, gliding mirrors, set by Lay icily,-motion nor sound was there; Spring i Nature seem'd frozen,-dead; and still and slow Deep in rich frames of clustering chrysoiite, A winding-sheet fell o'er her features fair, Instead of Winter's crumbled sparks of white. Flaky and white, from his wide wings of snow. So, dearest! shall our loves, though froze now FRANCES ANNE KEonLE BUTLER Winter. By cold unkindness, bloom like buds and flowers, Like fountains flash, for Hope with smiling The leaves are rustling mournfully, brow The yellow leaves and sere; Tells of a Spring whose sweets shall all be ours. For Winter with his naked arms PARK BENJAMIN: To. Ancl chilling breath is here: 636 WINTER. The rills that all the autumn-time Art has in a measure supplied, Went singing to the sea, And winter is deck'd with a smile. Are waiting in their icy chains See, Mary, what beauties I bring For Spring to set them free; From the shelter of that sunny shed, No bird is heard the livelong day Where the flowers have the charms of the spring, Upon its mates to call, Though abroad they are frozen and dead. And coldly and capriciously'Tis a bower of Arcadian sweets, The slanting sunbeams fall. Where Flora is still in her prime; ALICE CARY: To Lucy. A fortress to which she retreats Ancd now there came both mist'and snow, From the cruel assaults of the clime. And it grew wondrous cold, While earth wears a mantle of snow, And ice mast-high came floating by, These pinks are as fresh and as gay As green as emerald. As the fairest and sweetest that blow COLERIDGE. On the beautiful bosom of May. Winter has a joy for me See how they have safely survived While the Saviour's charms I read, The frowns of a sky so severe! Lowly, meek, from blemish free, Such Mary's true love that has lived In the snow-drop's pensive head.. Through many a turbulent year. The charms of the late-blowing rose Spring returns, and brings along Life-invigorating suns; Seem graced with a livelier hue, Life-invigorating suns; And the winter of sorrow best shows Hark! the turtle's plaintive song The truth of a friend such as you. Seems to speak his dying groans. COWPER: W/44'z'er /vosegfay. Summer has a thousand charms, mexpresv thos c, I crown thee king of intimate delights, All expressive of hights and worth; Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness,'Tis his sun that lights and warms, is h that s arAnd all the comforts that the lowly roof His the air that cools the earth. Of undisturb'd retirement, and the hours What! has autumn left to say Of long uninterrupted evening, know. Nothing of a Saviour's grace? COWPER: Task. Yes,-the beams of milder day Ves,-the beams of milder day The wintry winds have ceased to blow, Tell me of his smiling face. COWPER: And trembling leaves appear; And fairest flowers succeed the snow, ~ lild Praise the Lord at 42il Times (Ohzey Hymns). And hail the infant year. So when the world and all its woes Old Winter halting o'er the mead vanish'd far away, Bids me and Mary mourn; Bids e and Mary mourn; Fair scenes and wonderful repose But lovely Spring peeps o'er his head, Shall bless the newborn day. Shall bless the new-born day. And whispers your return. CRABBE: Resurrection. Then Aplril with her sister NMay And in the depth of winter, in the night, Shall chase him from the bowers, You plough the raging seas to coasts unknown. And weave fresh garlands every day SIR J. DENHAM To crown the smiling hours. Since when those frosts that winter brings, And if a tear that speaks regret candy evey green, Which candy -every green, Renew us like the teeming springs, A glimpse of joy that we have met Shall shine, and dry the tear. DRAYTON. COWPER: An Iznvitation into the Country. Fierce Boreas, with his offspring, issues forth What Nature, alas! has denied T' invade the frosty wagon of the north. To the delicate growth of our isle, DRYDEN. WIZVNTER. 637 On winter seas we fewer storms behold, Most beautiful things: there were flowers and Than foul diseases that infect the fold. trees, DRYDEN. There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees; Liest thou asleep beneath those hills of snow? There were cities with temples and towers; and Stretch out thy lazy limbs; awake, awake! these And winter from thy furry mantle shake. All pictured in silver sheen. DRYDEN. HANNAH F. GOULD: The Frost. The two beneath the distant poles complain His gathering mantle of fleecy snow Of endless winter and perpetual rain. The winter-king wrapp'd around him; DRYDEN. And flashing with ice-wrought gems below This during winter's drizzly reign be done, Was the regal zone that bound him: Till the new ram receives th' exalted sun. He went abroad in his kingly state, DRYDEN. By the poor man's door, —by the palace gate. Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Then his minstrel winds, on either hand, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, The music of frost-days humming, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Flew fast before him through all the land, HIides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, Crying " Winter-Winter is coming!" And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. And they sang a song in their deep, loud voice. The sled and traveller stopp'd, the courier's feet That made the heart of their king rejoice. Delay'd,.all friends shut out, the house-mates sit FRANCES H. GREEN: Song of Winter. Around the fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. The well-informed philosopher RALPH WALDO EMERSON: Snow-Storm. Rejoices with an wholesome fear, And hopes in spite of pain; Through winter streets to steer your course If winter bellow ifom the north, aright, Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth, How to walk clean by day, and safe by night; And nature laughs again. How jostling crowds with prudence to decline, HORACE (by COWPER). When to assert the wall, and when resign, I sing. GAY: Trivia. Our days had begun to darken; The shadows upon the lawn And winter, lingering, chills the lap of spring. To fall from the elm-trees early, GOLDSMITH: Traveller. To linger longer for dawn; The leaves of the elm to redden, It snows! it snows! from out the sky The feathered flakes how fast they fly,- And treble on the whid, With its bitter news and whispers Like little birds, that don't know why Of the worse that lay ehind. Of the worse that lay behind. They're on the chase, from place to place, While neither can the other trace. A dead leaf to the ground, It snows! it snows! a merry play g, Which sun should never gladden, Is o'er us, on this heavy day! Nor rain with a summer sound. As dancers in an airy hall The fern was red on the mountain, That hasn't room to hold them all, The cloud was low in the sky, While some keep up and others fall, And we knew that the year was failing, The atoms shift, then, thick and swift, That the wintry time was nigh. They drive along to form the drift, Household Words. " The First Snow on the That weaving up, so dazzling white, Fell." Is rising like a wall of light. HANNAH F. GOULD: It Snowzvs.'Tis winter, yet there is no sound, Along the air, He went to the windows of those who slept, Of winds upon their battle-ground, And over each pane, like a fairy, crept; But gently there Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepp'd, The snow is falling,-all around By the light of the morning were seen How fair —how fair! 638 _WINTER. The jocund fields would masquerade; The snow had begun in the gloaming, Fantastic scene! And busily all the night Tree, shrub, and lawn, and lonely glade, Had been heaping field and highway Have cast their green, With a silence deep and white. And join'd the revel, all array'd wite nd cean Every pine and fir and hemlock So white and clean. Wore ermine too dear for an earl, E'en the old posts, that hold the bars, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree And the old gate, -Was ridged inch-deep with pearl. Forgetful of their wintry wars, Frol sheds, new-roof'd with Carraja, And age sedate, Came Chanticleer's muffled crow; High capp'd and plumted, like white htussars, IThe stiff rails were soften'd to swian's down, Stand there in state. And still flutter'd down the snow. RALPH HOYT: Snzow, A Winter Sketcz. J. R. LOWELL: irst Snzoe-FariZl. How calm, how solemn, how sublime the scene! Now comes the herald of stern Winter. Hear The moon in full-orb'd glory sails above, The blast of his loud trumpet through the air, And stars in myriads around her move; Bidding collected families prepare Each looking down with watchful eye serene For the fierce king, without delay or fear; On earth, which, in a snowy shroud array'd, Not sea-coal fires alone, or cordial cheer And still, as in a dreamless sleep'twere laid, Of generous win-e, or raiment thick and warm, Saddens the spirit with its death-like mien: Though these may make the bleak and boisYet doth it charm the eye-its gaze still hold: terous storm Just as the face of one we loved, when cold, A picture for the eye, and music for the ear; And pale, and lovely e'en in death'tis seen, But laws of kindness, simple and sincere, Will fix the mourner's eye, though trembling Patient forbearance, and sweet cheerfulness, fears And gentle charity that loves to blessFill all his soul, and frequent fall his tears. To hide all faults as soon as they appear. Oh, I could watch till morn should change the Without such stores, bought by no golden sight, price, This cold, this beautiful, this mournful winter Winter may freeze the human blood to ice! night. CAROLINE MAY: On izke App..roac' of Wiltcer. ELIZABETH C. KINNEY: A WjinZer NilAzit. The sun \When winter winds are piercing chill, Had first his precept so to move, so shine, An1d through the hawthorn bl>oMws the gale, As might affect the earth with cold and heat WVith solemn feet I tread the hill Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call That overbrows the lonely vale. Decrepit winter, from the south to bring Solstitial summer's heat. O'er the bare upland, and away MILTON. Through the long reach of desert woods, Let Araby boast of her soft spicy gale, The embracing suinbeams chastely play, And Persia her breeze from the rose-scented And gladden these deep solitudes. vale LONGFELLOW: fVoods in Winiter. Let orange-trees scatter in wildness their balm, Where sweet summer islands lie fragrant and Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, calm; Their beards of icicles and snow; And teairaG, Give me the cold blast of my country again, And the rain it raineth so fast and cold, AWndthe rnmusit cower over thse embers low, Careering o'er snow-cover'd mountain and plain., WVe must cowler over the embers low,. And coming, though scentless, yet pure, to my And, snugly housed from the wind and weather, breast, Mope like birds that are changing feather; With vigor and health from the cloudless Nor'But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear, West When thy merry step draws near. LONGFELLOW: Renouveau.' Fro.Iam tie I languish where suns in the tropic sky glow, Fr;ench. And gem-studded waters on golden sands flow. WINTER. 639 Where shrubs, blossom-laden, bright birds, and The snow is on the mountain, sweet trees The frost is on the vale, With odors and music encumber the breeze; The ice hangs o'er the fountain, I languish to catch but a breathing of thee, The storm rides on the gale; To hear thy wild winter-notes, brilliant and free, The earth is bare and naked, To feel thy cool touch on my heart-strings op- The air is cold and drear, prest, The sky with snow-clouds flaked, And gather a tone from the bracing Nor'-West. And dense foul fogs appear; DR. J. K. MITCHELL: The B'illiant Nor'- West. The sun shines not so brightly Through the dark murky skies; Descending snows the earth o'erspread, een blows the northern blast The night grows longer nightly, Keen blows the northern blast; t. And thus the winter dies. Condensing clouds scowl overhead, THOMAS JOHN OUSFLEY: TlziVel'. The tempest gathers fast. But soonI the icy mass shall melt, Inclement weather and frosty blasts deface The winter end his reign, The blithesome year; trees of their shrivell'd The sun's reviving warmth be felt, fruits And nature smile again. Are widow'd; dreary storms o'er all prevail. DR. SAMUEL L. MITCHILL. JOHN PHILIPS. Old Winter is coming again,-alack! The orchard loves to wave The orchard loves to wave How icy and cold is he! With winter winds, before the germs exsert Their feeble heads. He cares not a pin for a shivering back; JOHN PHILIPS. He's a saucy old chap to white and black; He whistles his chills with a wonderful knack, First in the fields I try the sylvan strains, For he comes from a cold countree! Nor blush to sport in Winter's blissful plains. POPE. A witty old fellow this Winter is, A mighty old fellow for glee; Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, He cracks his jokes on the pretty, sweet miss, Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure lost. The wrinkled old maiden unfit to kiss, POPE. And freezes the dew of their lips: for this Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime Stern winter smiles on that auspicious cnime; Is the way with old fellows like he! The fields are florid with unfading prime. HIUGH MOORE: Old Winter is Cominz. POPE. Loud-voiced night, with the wild wind blowing 6 If all the world and love were young, Many a tune; Man~y a tunll~e; - And truth in every shepherd's tongue, Stormy night, with white rain-clouds going Over__1~ themon;These pretty pleasures might me move Over the moon; To live with thee and be thy love. Mystic night, that each minute changes, Now as blue as the mountain-ranges But time drives flocks from field to fold, Far, far away, When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, Now as black as a heart where strange is Then Philormel becometh dumb, Joy, night or day. The rest complain of cares to come. D. M. MULOCH: WziZter Mzoohzift. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields The keen, clear air-the splendid sight- To wayward winter reckoning yields; We waken to a world of ice, A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Where all things are enshrined in light, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. As by some genii's quaint device. SIR W. RALEIGH: Nfizmph's Reply lo T5ee Passionate Szep/2Oerd (by MIARLOWE).'Tis winter's jubilee: this day Her stores their countless treasures yield; Full fifty years, harness'd in rugged steel, See how the diamond glances play, I have endured the biting winter's blast, In ceaseless blaze, from field to field. And the severer heats of parching summer. ANDREWS NORTON: A Wzinter 2ornzig. ROWFE. 640 WINVTE R. Now I see thy jolly train: Htere feel we but the penalty of Adam, Snowy-headed winter leads; The seasons' difference; as the icy fang Spring and summer next succeeds; And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Yellow autumn brings the rear; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Thou art fathier of the year. Ev'n till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, ROWE. This is no flattery. SHAKSPEARE. When dark December glooms the day, And takes our autumn joys away; You have such a February face, When short and scant the sunbeam throws So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness! Upon the weary waste of snows SHARSPEARE. A cold and profitless regard, A cold and profitless egard, Blow, blow, thou winter wind,Like patron on a needy bard; Thou art not so unkind When silvan occupation's done, As man's inglratitude! And o'er the chimney rests the gun, Thy tooth is not so keen, And hang, in idle trophy, near, And hang, in idle trophy, near, Because thou art not seen; The game-pouch, fishing-rod, and spear. Although thy breath be rude. SIR WALTER SCOTT: Marmio. SHAKSPEARE. And well our Christian sires of old Oh, these flaws and starts Loved when the year its course had roll'd, O (, Impostors to true fear) would well become And brought blithe Christmas back again, a A woman's story at a winter's fire. With all his hospitable train. SHAKSPEARE. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night; Being incensed, he's flint; On Christmas Eve the bells were rung; As humorous as winter, and as sudden On Christmas Eve the mass was sung; As flames congealed in the spring of day. That only night in all the year SHAKSPEARE. Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear; Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear; For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep The damsel dlonn'd her kirtle sheen; The l'd een; Seeming and savour all the winter long. The hall was dress'd with holly green;SHASPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Forth to the wood did merry-men go, To gather in the misletoe. On old Hyem's chin, and icy crown, SIR WALTER SCOTT: Mar~Jmion. An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. I love to rise ere gleams the tardy light, SHAKSPEARE. Winter's pale dawn; *and as warm fires illume, Well-apparell'd April on the heel And cheerful tapers shine around the room, Of limping winter treads. SHASPEARE. Through misty windows bend my musing sight Where, round the dusky lawn, the mansions Sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; white, And after summer evermore succeeds With shutters closed, peer faintly through the The barren winter with his nipping cold. gloom, SHAKSPEARE. That slow recedes; while yon gray spires as- When icicles e wall, When icicles hang by the wall, sunlleAnd Dick the shepherd blows his nail, Rising firom their dark pile, an added height And Tom bears logs into the hall, By indistinctness given. Then to decree And milk comes firozen home in pail. The grateful thoughts to God, ere they unfold SHAKSPEARE. To Friendship or the Muse, or seek with glee Wisdom's rich page: O hours! more worth All around the wind doth blow, than gold. And coughing drowns the parson's saw, By whose best use we lengthen life, and, free And birds sit brooding in the snow, From drear decays of age, outlive the old! And Marian's rose looks red and raw. ANNA SEWARD: Decelzber Moirning', I782. SHAKSPEARE. WZINTER. 641 Imperial Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Lasfiy came Winter, cloathed all in frize, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. Chattering his teeth for cold that did him Oh that the earth which kept the world in awe chill;Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw. Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze; SHAKSPEARE. And the dull drops that from his purpled bill As from a lilmbeck did adown distill: That time of year thou mayst in me behold In his right hand a tipped stafe he held When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang With which his feeble steps e stayed still; With which his feeble steps he stayed still; Upon those boughs which shalke against the For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld; cold, That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to weld, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day Although we boast our winter sun looks bright, As after sunset fadeth in the west, And foolishly are glad to see it at its height, Which by-and-by black night doth take away,- et so much sooner comes the long and gloomy Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. night. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnzet LXII.'SWIFT. Gloomy winter's now awa', How like a winter hath my absence beenaft the westlin breezes blaw: From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! cheerie The mavis sings fu' cheerie 0. What old December's bareness everywhere! ROBERT TANNAHILL: SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet XCVI1. Gloomy Winter's ow Awa'. Yon gentle hill, Again at Christmas did we weave Robed in a garment of untrodden snow,- The holly round the Christmas hearth; Yon darksome rocks, whence icicles depend, The silent snow possess'd the earth, So stainless that their white and glittering spires And calmly fell our Christmas-eve; Tinge not the moon's pure beam,-yon castled steep, The yule-log sparkled keen with frost, Whose banner hangeth o'er the time-worn tower No wing of wind the region swept, So idly that rapt fancy deemeth it But over all things brooding slept A metaphor of peace,-all form a scene The quiet sense of something lost. \Where musing solitude might love to lift As in the winters left behind Her soul above this sphere of earthliness; Again our ancient games had place, Where silence undisturb'd might watch alone,- The mimic picture's breat-hing grace So coldl, so bright, so still. And dance and song and hoodman-blind. SHELLEY: A CalZZ Winter /I,. TENYSON: Inh Mrmoria. Artist unseen! that, dipt in frozen dew, See, winter comes, to rule the valied year, Hast -on the glittering glass thy pencil laid, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; Ere from yon sun the transient visions fade, Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Swift let me trace the forms thy fancy drew, THOMSON. Thy towers and palaces of diamond hue,'Tis done! dread winter spreads his latest Rivers and lakes of lucid crystal made, And, hung in air, hoar trees of branching glooms, hunginai, boartresofbanchingAnd reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year. shade, How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! That liquid pearl distil: thy scenes renew How dead the vegetunle f ingl om lies How dumb the tuneful! horror wide extends Whate'er old blards or later fictions feign Her desolate domain! Of secret grottos underneath the wave, THOMSON Where Nereids roof with spar the amber cave; Or bowers of bliss, where sport the fairy train, Winter binds Who, frequent by the moonlight wanderer seen, Our strengthen'd bodies in a cold embrace Circle with radiant gems the dewy green. Constringent. WILLIAM SOTHEBY: Thze Winter's Morn. THOMSON. 41 642 WVLTER. - WISD Oi. Nor when cold winter keens the brightening Pitchy knot and beechen splinter flood, On our hearth shall glow. Would I weak shiv'ring linger on the brink. Here, with mirth to lighten duty, THOMSON. We shall lack alone All nature feels the renovating force Woman's smile and girlhood's beauty, Of winter; only to the thoughtless eye Childhood's lisping tone. Is ruin seen. THOMSON. WHITTIER: Lnmibermen. As thus the snows arise, and foul and fierce When the winter hunts the bird All Winter drives along the darken'd air, From his leafy home and bower; In his own loose-revolving fields the swain When the bee, no longer heard, Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend, Bides the cold, ungenial hour; Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, When the blossoms rise no more Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain; From the garden, field, and glen; Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid When our forest joys are o'er,Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on Dearest! wilt thou love me then? From hill to dale, still more and more astray; HANNAH J.; VOODMAN: Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, W ihenz Wilt T5hou Love Me? Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth In many a vain attempt. THOMSON. WISDOM. Through the hush'd air the whitening shower 0 wisdom! if thy soft control descends, Can soothe the sickness of the soul, At first thin wavering, till at last the flakes Can bid the warring passions cease, Fall broad and wide, and fast, dimming the day, And breathe the calm of tender peace: With a continual flow. The cherish'd fields Wisdom! I bless thy gentle sway, Put on their winter robe of purest white: And ever, ever will obey. MRs. BARBAULD.'Tis brightness all, save where the new snow melts A conscious, wise, reflecting cause, Along the mazy current. That can deliberate, means elect, and find Their due connection with the end design'd. There is a voice in the wintry storm; SIR R. BLACK-MORE. For the blasting spirit is there,:Sweeping o'er every vernal charm, If I were thou, 0 butterfly, O'er all that was bright and fair; And poised poised my purple wing to spy It tells of death, as it moans around, The sweetest flowers that live and die, And the desolate hall returns the sound. I would not waste mny strength on those IKATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: As thou, —for summer has a close, Voice of the Seasons. And pansies bloom not in the snows. Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers, MRS. E. B. BROWNING: And gone the Summer's pomp and show, pWisdom i Unazpoied. And Autumn, in his learless bowers, And Autumn, in his leafless'owers, Of all those arts in which the wise excel, Is waiting for the Winter's snow. Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. I said to Earth, so cold and gray, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAMI: Essay o0Z Poetly. "An emblem of myself thou art:" "Anemle o msel touar:"No more to fabled names confined, "Not so," the Earth did seem to say, "Not so," the EarthTo thee, supreme, all-perfect mind, "For Spring shall warm my frozen heart."' My thoughts direct their flight: WIITTIER: Az4tlzlnl T/zou/zts. Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force Make we here our camp of winter; From thee derived, unchanging source And, through sleet and snow, Of intellectual light! WTISD OI. 6433 0 send her sure, her steady ray And Murray sighs o'er Pope and Swift, To regulate my doubtful way And manyl a treasure more, Through life's perplexing road, The well-judged purchase, and the gift, The mists of error to control, That graced his letter'd store. And through its gloom direct my soul Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn, To happiness and good! ELIZABETH CARTER: The loss was his alone; ELIZABETH CARTER: Ode to Wisdom. But ages yet to come shall mourn The burning of his own. O Wisdom! from the sea-beat shore, COWPER: On the Burning of Lord Mansfjeld's Where, listening to the solemn roar, Library, Ztoether withz is MASS., by thAe Afcb, Thy loved Eliza strays, in the Mont/h of 7une, I780. Vouchsafe to visit my retreat, And teach my erring, trembling feet Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Thy heaven-protected ways! Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge dwells O guide me to the humble cell In heads replete with thoughts of other men; Where Resignation loves to dwell, er esnat loves w Wisdom, in minds attentive to their own. Contentment's bower in view! Knowledge-a rude unprofitable mass, Nor pining grief with absence drear, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Nor sick suspense, nor anxious fear, Norll siksense, nr aoursufe, Till smoothed and squared and fitted to its Shall there my steps pursue. placeThere let my soul to Him aspire Does but encumber when it seems to enrich. WZhom none e'er sought with vain desire Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so Nor loved in sad despair; much; There to his gracious will divine Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. My dearest, fondest hope resign,OWPER: Task. And all my tenderest care. HESTER CHAPONE: In idle wishes fools supinely stay; Ode to Solitude. Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way. It moves thee more perhaps than folly ought, CRABBE. When some green heads, as void of wit as Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, thought, And he's of men most wise who bears them Suppose themselves monopolists of sense,best. And Mwiser men's ability pretence. CUMBERLAND. Though time will wear us, and we must grow old, old, Which sight my knowledge of myself might Such men are not forgot as soon as cold: bring, Their fragrant memory will outlast their tomb, Which to true wisdom is the first degree. Embalm'd forever in its own perfume. SIR J. DAVIES. - COWPER: Conversatio~n. As from the senses reason's work doth spring, Accomplishments have taken virtue's place, So many reasons understanding gain, And wisdom falls before exterior grace; And many understandings knowledge bring, We slight the precious kernel of the stone, And by much knowledge wisdom we obtain. And toil to polish its rough coat alone: SIR J. DAVIES. A just deportment, manners graced with ease,'Tis not thy terrors, Ldrcl, thy dreadful frown, Elegant phrase, and figure form'd to please,, Are qualities that seem to comprehend Which keep my step in diuty's narrow path; Are qualities that seem to comprehendp Whatever parents, guardians, schools intend. But that in virtue's sacred smile alone COWPER: Progress of mrror. I find or peace or happiness. Thy light, So, then, the Vandals of our isle, In all its prodigality, is shed Sworn foes to sense and law, Upon the worthy and the unworthy healT; Have burnt to dust a nobler pile And thou dost wrap in misery's stormy night Than ever Roman saw!' The holy as the thankless. All is well; 644 WIStD Oif Thy wisdom has to each his portion given: Love built a stately house; where fortune Why should our hearts by selfishness be riven? came,'Tis vain to murmur,-daring to rebel: And, spinning fancies, she was heard to say Lord, I would fear thee, though I fear'd not That her fine cobwebs did support the firame; hell, Whereas they were supported by the same; And love thee, though I had no hopes of But wisdom quickly swept them all away. heaven! GEORGE HERBERT. SANrqTA TERESA DE AVILA: Wisdom that scorns the poet's tenderness, Tralzslated by SIR JOHN BOWRING. That cannot love the beautiful and bright, True wisdom must our actions so direct, And is not moved by sorrow and distress, Not only the last plaudit to expect. Hath never read the page of Nature right. SIR J. DENHAM. And genius that would scorn the lowly way When any great design thou dost intend, Which leads to truth, although by millions Think on the means, the manner, and the end. trod, SIR J. DENHAM. Might humble violets twine with haughty bay, Wisdom of what herself approves makes choice, And learn from children how to soar to God. Nor is led captive by the common voice. SIR J. DENHAM. There's worldly wisdom, and there's poesy's art,All human wisdom to divine is folly: Both of this earth; but in their nobler sphere This truth the wisest man made melancholy. The sisters twain may teach an erring heart, SIR J. DENHAM. Reclaim from sin, and guide in love and fear. The bold are but the instruments of the wise; Rouse/told Wolrds. " Poetby and P/zils7p/iy." They undertake the dangers they advise. A wise man-likes that best that is itself; DRYDEN. Not that which only seems, though it look fairer.'Twas not the hasty product of a day, MIDDLETON: Widowo. But the well-ripen'd fruit of wise delay. But apt the mind or fancy is to rove DRYDEN. Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end, \.hen thou canst truly call these virtues thine, Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn Be wise and free, by heav'n's consent and mine. That not to know at large of things remote DRYDEN. From use, obscure and subtle, but to know Not that my verse would blemish all the fair, That which before us lies in daily life, But yet, if some be bad,'tis wisdom to beware. Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume, DRYDEN. Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, And renders us in things that most concern She's God's own mirror; she's a light whose glance Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. Springs from the lightning of his countenance. MITON..Who therefore seeks in these She's mildest heaven's most sacred influence; True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion. Never decays her beauties' excellence, MILTON. Aye like herself; and she doth always trace Not only the same path, but the same pace. Though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps Without her, honour, health, and wealth would At wisdom's gate; and to simplicity prove Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks Three poisons to me. Wisdom from above no ill Is the only moderatrix, spring, and guide, Where no ill seems. Organ and honour of all gifts beside. MILTON. DU BARTAS. Wisdom had ordain'd Since sorrow never comes too late, Good out of evil to create; instead And happiness too swiftly flies, Of spirits malign, a better race to bring Where ignorance is bliss Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse'Tis folly to be wise. His good to worlds, and ages, infinite. GRAY:.Eton Collffe. MILTON. WISD OM. 645 Not more almighty to resist our might, A drop dissever'd from the boundless sea; Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. A moment parted from eternity; MILTON. A pilgrim panting for a rest to come; An exile anxious for his native home. Be not diffident EIAN,'AH MORE: WIisdomn. Of wisdom; she deserts thee not, if thou Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her That thou may'st injure no man, dove-like be, nigh. And serpent-like, that none may injure thee. MN ILTON. From the Lalin of JOHN OWEN, translated by All is best, though oft we doubt COWPER: Pirident SiplZicity. What th' unsearchable dispose Of highest uwisdom brings about, Thus from the time we first begin to know, And ever best found in the close. IWVe live and learn, but not the wiser grow. MILTON. POMFRET: Reasoz. Thout open'st wisdom's way, In parts superior what advantage lies? And givest access, though secret she retire. Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise? MILTON.'Tis but to know how little can be known; To see all others' faults, and feel our own. This seems to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid wisdom's hue. POPE. MILTON.. If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shined, Celestial light, The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind! Shine inward, and the mind through all her Or, ravish'd with the whistling of a name, pow'rs See Cromwell damn'd to everlasting fame. Irradiate; there plant eyes; all mist from thence POPE. Purge and disperse. Purge and disperMILTON. Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay; isdo's self His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Wisdom's self POPE. Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, No less alike the politic and wise, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her All sly slow things, with circumspective eyes; Wings, Men in their loose unguarded hours they take: That in the various bustle of resort Not that themselves are wise, but others weak. Were all-too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. POPE. MILTON. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, Wisdom, slow product of laborious years, A being darkly wise, and'rudely great. The only fruit that life's cold winter bears, POPE. Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay, y sn ay Urge him with truth to frame his sure replies, By the fierce storm of passion torn away. And sure he will; for wisdom never lies. Should some remain in a rich generous soil, POPE. They long lie hid, and must be raised with toil; What differ more, you cry, than crown and cowl? Faintly they struggle with inclement skies, I'll tell you, friend: a wise man and a fool. No sooner born than the poor planter dies. POPE. LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise, Ah! when did Wisdom covet length of days, To fall with dignity, with temper rise. Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise? POPE. No: Wisdom views with an indifferent eye All finite joys, all blessings born to die: Some positive, persisting fools we know, The soul on earth is an immortal guest, Who, if once wrong, will need be always so; Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast; But you with pleasure own your errors past, A spfark which upward tends by nature's force; And make each day a critique on the last. A stream diverted from its parent source; POPE. 646 VVISD Off. Wisdom's triumph is well-timed retreat; Be wisely worldly, but not worldly wise. As hard a science to the fair as great. QUARLES. POPE. Can you on him such falsities obtrude, What right, what true, what fit we justly call, And as a mortal the most wise delude? Let this be all my care; for this is all; SANDYS. To lay this harvest up, and hoard with haste He who obeys, destruction shall eschew; What every day will want, and most the last. A wise man knows both when and what to do, POPE. SANDYS. Who are the wise? There are a sort of men whose visages They who have govern'd with a self-control Do cream and mantle lile a standing pond, Each wild and baneful passion of the soul,- And do a wilful stillness entertain, Curb'd the strong impulse of all fierce desires, With purpose to be drest in an opinion But kept alive affection's purer fires; Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, They who have pass'd the labyrinth of life, As who should say, "I am sir Oracle, Without one hour of weakness or of strife; And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark." Prepared each change of fortane to endure, SHAKSPEARE. Humble though rich, and dignified though I entreat you then, poolr,- From one that but imperfectly conjects, Sklill'd in the latent Imovements of the heart, kYour wisdom would not build yourself a trouble. Learn'd in the lore which nature can impart,- SHAISPEARE. Teaching that sweet philosophy aloud Which sees the " silver lining" of the cloud,- This milky gentleness, and course of yours, Looking for good in all beneath the skies: — Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon, These are thle truly wise! You are much more attask'd for want of wvisdom P. PRINCE. Than praised for harmful mildness. SHAKSPEARE. Wisdom, thou say'st, from heav'n received her birth; Sheba was never Her beams transmitted to the subject earth: More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue Yet this great empress of the human soul Than this pure soul shall be. Does only with imagined power control, SHAKSPEARE. If restless passion, by rebellious sway, Modest doubt is call'd Compels the weak usurper to obey. The beacon of the wise. PRIOR. SHAKSPEARE. How shall our thought avoid the various snare? Those that I rev'rence, those I fear-the wise; Or wisdom to our caution'd soul declare At fools I laugh, not fear them. The different shapes thou pleasest to employ, SHAKSPEARE. When bent to hurt, and certain to destroy? PRIOR. SO on the tip of his subduing tongue All kind of arguments and questions deep, But wisdom peevish and cross-grain'd All replication prompt, and reason strong, Must be opposed, to be sustain'd. For his advantage still (id wake and sleep: PRIOR. To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, He had the dialect and different skill, To guide its actions with informing care, Catching all passions in his craft of will. In peace to judge, to conquer in the war, SHAI SPEARE: Loverl's CorvPlaint. Render it agile, witty, valiant, sage, As fits the various course of human age. There is a history in all men's lives, PRIOR. Figuring the nature of the times deceased; The which observed, a man may prophesy, But sacred wisdom doth apply that good With a near aim, of the main chance of things, Which simple knowledge barely understood. As yet not come to life. QUARLES. SHAKSPEAREo WISD OM 647 Wisdom and fortune combating together, Clouds of affection from our younger eyes If that the former dare but what it can, ~ Conceal that emptiness which age descries; No chance may shake it. [ The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, SHAKSPEARE. Lets in new light through chinks which time Wisdom's above suspecting wiles; has made. The queen of learning gravely smiles. Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, SWIFT. As they draw near to their eternal home; Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers. That stand upon the threshold of the new. TENNYSON.ALLER. Who wrote it, honouring your sweet faith in him, In such green palaces the first kings reign'd, May trust himself, and, spite of praise and scorn, Slept in their shades, and angejs entertained; As one wlho feels the immeasurable world, As one wo feels the immeasurabe world, With such old counsellors they did advise, Attain the wise indifference of the wise. ise And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise. TENNYSON. WALLER. Let no presuming impious railer tax CREATIVE WISDOM, as if aught was form' With wisdom f, In vain, o not for adirable ends. Not such as books, but such as practice taught. In vain, or not for admirable ends. Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce WALLER: On the Itng's Return. His works unwise, of which the smallest part Pronounce him blest, my muse, whom wisdom Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind? guides THOMSON: Summer. In her own path to her own heav'nly seat; Through all the storms his soul securely glides, What wisdom more, what better life, than pleaseth Nor can the tempest, nor the tides, God to send? What wGod to sends,? w -at loi~ger use, than That rise and roar around, supplant his steady What worldly goods, what lomnger use, than feet. DR. WATTS. pleaseth God to lend? What better fare than well content, agreeing To fear thy pow'r, to trust thy grace, with thy wealth? Is our divinest skill; What better guest than trusty friend, in sickness And he's the wisest of our race and in health? Who best obeys thy will., What better bed than conscience good, to pass DR. WATTS. the night with sleep? Wise in his prime, he waited not for noon, What better work than daily care from sin thy- Convinced that mortal never lived too-soon. self to keep? As if foreboding here his little stay, What better thought than think on God, and He made his morning bear the heat of day: daily Him to serve? Fix'd, while unfading glory he pursues, What better gift than to the poor, that ready No ill to hazard, and no good to lose, be to sterve? No fair occasion glides unheeded by: What greater praise of God and man than Snatching the golden moments as they fly, mercy for to shew? He by few fleeting hours ensures eternity. Who, merciless, shall mercy find, that mercy REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, JR.: shows to few? On the Dealt of MII. M/Jorgan. What worse despair than loath to die, for fear to go to hell? isdom sits alone, What greater faith than trust in God, through Topmost in heaven;-she is its light-its God; Christ in heaven to dwell? Christ in heaven to dwell? And in the heart of man she sits as high,TUSSER: Though grovelling minds forget her oftentimes, Five Hunzdred Points of Good Husbandry. Seeing but this world's idols. The pure mind Sees her forever; and in youth we come, The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er; Fill'd with her sainted ravishment, and kneel, So calm are we when passions are no more: Worshipping God through her sweet altar-fires, For then we know how vain it was to boast And then is knowledge "good." Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. N. P. WILLIS. 648 WZISD OM. — WIT. Wisdom married to immortal verse. But, O reader! be thou dumb; WORDSWORTH: Excursion. Critic, let no keen wit come; For the hand that wrote or blurr'd'Tis not yet too late. Will not write another word, Seize Wisdom ere'tis torment to be wise; And the sol yo scorn or prize And the soul you scorn or prize That is, seize Wisdom ere she seizes thee. Now than angels is more wise. YOUNG. 4Al the Year Round.The clouds may drop down titles and estates; "The USzfinished Poem." Wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought; True wit is everlasting, like the sun, True wit is everlasting, like the sun, Sought before all, but (how unlike all else Which, though sometilmes behind a cloud reWe seek on earth!)'tis never sought in vain. tired YOUNG: Nikh,5 Thouffhts. OUNG: ht T ts. Breaks out again, and is by all admired: Be wise to-day;'tis madness to defer; A flame that glows amidst conceptions fit, Next day the fatal precedent will plead: E'en something of divine, and more than wit; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Itself unseen, yet all things by it shown, YOUNG: Nzo-ht Thoughts. Describing all men, but described by none. DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. Wisdom, though richer than Peruvian mines, And sweeter than the sweet ambrlosial hive, All wit does but divert men from the road What is she but the means of happiness? In which things vulgarly are understood, That unobtain'd, than folly more a fool; And force mistake and ignorance to own A melancholy fool without her bells. A better sense than commonly is known. Friendship, the means of wisdom, richly gives BUTLER. The precious end, which makes our wisdom wise. nature never gave to mortal yet YOUNG: Ngfift T'o02u'tSls. A free and arbitrary power of wit; But bound him to his good behaviour for't That he should never use it to do hurt. IT. BUTLER. VV IT. In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Most men are so unjust, they look upon Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasing fellow, Another's wit as enemy to their own. Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about BUTLER. thee, We grant, although he had much wit, There is no living with thee, nor without thee. H' was very shy of using it, As being loath to wear it out; Sphinx was a monster that would eat And therefore bore it not about, Whatever stranger she could get, Unless on holy-days, or so, Unless his ready wit disclosed As men their best apparel do. The subtle riddle she proposed., BUTLER: Hudzbras. ADDISON. But thou bring'st valour too and wit, First a charming shape enslaved me; Two things that seldom fail to hit. An eye then gave the fatal stroke; BUTLER: Hudibras. Till by her wit Corinna saved me, And all my former fetters broke. We find in sullen writs, ADDISON. And cross-grain'd works of modern wits, While, lull'd by sound, and undisturb'd by wit,The wonder of the ignorant. Calm and serene you indolently sit. ADDISON. Why should you, whose mother-wits Take it, reader,-idly passing Are furnish'd with all perquisites, This, like hundred other lines; B' allow'd to put all tricks upon Take it, critic, great at classing Our cully sex,'and we use none? Subtle genius' well-known sign: BUTLER: Hzudib.as. WIT.' 649 The pride of nature would as soon admit When labour and when dulness, club in hand, Competitors in empire as in wit; Like the two figures at St. Dunstan's stand, Onward they rush at fame's imperious call, Beating alternately, in measured time, And less than greatest, would not be at all. The clockwork tintinnabulum of rhyme, CHURCHILL. Exact and regular the sounds will be; But such mere quarter-strokes are not for me. Hence'tis a wit, the greatest word of fame, COWPER: Table- Talk. Grows such a common name; And wits by our creation they become, Wit and will Just so as titular bishops made at Rome: Can judge and choose without the body's aid;'Tis not a tale,'tis not a jest Though on such objects they are working still Admired with laughter at a feast, As through the body's organs are convey'd. Nor florid talk, which can that title gain: SIR J. DAVIES. The proofs of wit forever must remain. Will ever acts, and wit contemplates still; COWLEY. And as from wit the power of wisdom riseth, His wit invites you by his looks to come, All other virtues daughters are of will. But, when you knock, it never is at home. Will is the prince, and wit the counsellor COWPER: Conversation. Which doth for common good in council sit; And when wit is resolved, will lends her A Christian's wit is inoffensive light, power A beam that aids but never grieves the sight; To execute what is advised by wit. Vigorouis in age as in the flush of youth, SIR J. DAVIES.'Tis always active on the side of truth; Temperance and peace insure its healthful state, hy doth not beauty then refine the it And make it brightest at its latest date. And good complexion rectify the will? Oh, I have seen (nor hope perhaps in vain, SIR J. DAVIES. Ere life go down, to see such sights again) How is it that some wits are interrupted, A veteran warrior in the Christian field, That now they dazzled are, now clearly see? Who never saw the sword he could not wield: SIR J. DAVIES. Grave without dulness, learned without pride, Then doth the wit Exact but not precise, though meek, keen-eyed; Exact but not precise, though meek, keen-eyed; Build fond conclusions on those idle grounds; A man that would-have foil'd at their own play Then doth it fly the good, and ill pursue. A dozen would-be's of the modern day; SIR J. DAVIES. Who, when occasion justified its use, Had wit as bright and ready to produce; God, only wise, to punish pride of wit, Could fetch from records of an earlier age, Among men's wits hath this confusion Or fiom philosophy's enlighten'd page, wrought; His rich materials, and regale your ear As the proud tow'r, whose points the clouds With strains it was a privilege to hear: did hit, Yet above all, his luxury supreme, By tongues' confusion was to ruin brought. And his chief glory, was the gospel theme; SIR J. DAVIES. There he was copious as old Greece or Rome;, He claims his privilege, and says'tis fit, bitious not to shine seem'd to here at home, Nothing should be the judge of wit, but wit. Ambitious not to shine or to excel, But to treat justly what he loved so well. SIR J. DENHAM. COWPER: Conversation (on 7ohn Wesley). These hymns may work on future wits, and so Thus reputation is a spur to wit, May great-grandchildren of thy praises grow. Thus reputation is a spur to wit, DONTNE.And some wits flag for fear of losing it. Give me the line that ploughs his stately course Wit, like tierce claret, when't begins to pall Like a proud swan, conquering the stream by Neglected lies, and's of no use at all; force! But in its full perfection of decay That like some cottage beauty strikes the heart, Turns vinegar, and comes again in play. Quite unindebted to the tricks of art. DORSET. 650 WIT. So many candidates there stand for wit, For wit and pow'r their last endeavours bend A place at court is scarce so hard to get: T' outshine each other. In vain they crowd each other at the door; DRYDEN. For e'en reversions are all begg:d before. Fe reb DRYDEN. Heedless of verse, and hopeless of the crown, Scarce half a wit, and more than half a clown. Searching wits, of more mechanic parts, DRYDEN. Who graced their age with new-invented arts; Those who to work their bonunty did extend,'Age might, what nature never gives the young, And those who knew that bounty to commend. Have taught the smoothness of thy native tongue; DRYDAEN. But satire needs not that, and wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, DRYDEN. And thin partitions do their bounds divide. DRYDEN.I writ An epigram that boasts more truth than wit. The inventive god, who never fails his part, GAY. Inspires the wit when once he warms the heart. IDRYDEN. The thoughtless wits shall fi-equent forfeits pay, Who'gainst the sentry's box discharge their tea. Our poet thinks not fit GAY. T' impose upon you what he writes for wit. DRYDEN. What muse but his can Nature's beauties hit, Or catch that airy fugitive call'd wit? Where could they find another form'd so fit To poise with solid sense a sprightly wit? WAITER HARTE. DRYDEN. Poor poet ape, that would be thought our chief, She first did wit's prerogative remove, Whose works are e'en the frippery of wit, And make a fool presume to prate of love. From brocage is become so bold a thief, DRYDEN. As we, the robb'd, leave rage, and pity it. BEN JONSON. The fate which governs poets thought it fit He should not raise his fortunes by his wit. Sleights from his wit and subtlety proceed. DRYDEN. In this pile shall reign a mighty prince, Unhappy wit, like most mistaken things, Born for a scourge of wit and flail of sense. Atones not for that envy which it brings. DRYDEN. In youth alone its empty praise we boast: But soon the short-lived vanity is lost; Had I a hundred tongues, a wit so large ad hundred toes, disarge Like some fair flow'r the early spring supplies, As could their hundred offices discharge. DRYDENT. That gayly blooms, but e'en in blooming dies. POPE. Wit in northern climates will not blow, True wit is nature to advantage drest; Except, like orange-trees,'tis housed from snow. That oft was thought, but ne'er so well exprest: DRYDEN. Something whose truth, convinced at sight, we To the great dons of wit find, Plhebus gives them full privilege alone That gives us back the image of our mind. To damn all others and cry up their own. POPE. DRYDEN. You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come; Half wits are fleas, so little and so light, Knock as you please, there's nobody at home. Half wits are fleas, so little and so light, POPE. We scarce could know they live, but that they bite. As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, DRYDEN. T' avoid great errors must the less commit. POPE. A tun of man in thy large bulk is writ; But sure thou'rt but a kilderkin of wit. A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits. DRYDEN. POPE. WIT'. 6 5 To tell them would a hundred tongues require; The tongue moved gently first, and speech was Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire. low; POPE. Till wrangling science taught it noise and show, No longer now the golden age appears, And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe. POPE. When patriarch wits survived a thousand years. POPE. Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit, Meanly they seek the blessing to confine, One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. And force that sun but on a part to shine, POPE. Which not alone the southern wit sublimes, But what so pure which envious tongues will But ripens spirits in cold northern climes. ~POPE. spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair. Some have at first for wits, then poets, pass'd; PoPE. Turn'd critics next, and proved plain fools at The gen'rous god who wit and gold refines, last. And ripens spirits as he ripens mines. Some neither can for wits nor critics pass:; POPE. As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass. POPE. Works may have more wit than does them good, As bodies perish through excess of blood. To teach vain wits a science little known, POPE. T' admire superior sense, and doubt their own. POPE. The chief I challenged; he whose practised wit Ne'er was dash'd out, at one unlucky hit, Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit, A fool so just a copy of a wit. Eludes my search. POPE. POPE. Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, Wit's what the vicious fear, the virtuous shun; And wisely curb'ld proud man's pretending wit. By fools'tis hated, and by knaves undone. POPE. POPE.'Twas fit Who conquer'd nature should preside o'er wit. A beau and witling perish'l in the throng POPE. One died in metaphor, and one in song. POPE. Names fresh engraved appear'd of wits re-Wits and templars every sentence raise, nown'd; iAnd wonder with a foolish face of praise. I look'd again, nor could their trace be found. POPE. POPE. Wit from the first has shone on ages past, For envied wit, like Sol eclipsed, makes known Enlights the present, and shall warm the last. Th' opposing body's grossness, not its own. POPE. POPE. Dext'rous the craving, fawning crowd to' quit, So mimic ancient wits at best, As apes our grandsires in their doublets drest. And pleased to'scape from flattery to wit. POPE. POPE. The thron6e a bigot keep, a genius quit; But rebel wit deserts thee oft in vain; Faithless through piety, and duped through wit. Lost in the inaze of words, he turns again. POPE. POPE. A wit can study in the streets; No rag, no scrap of all the beau or wit, Not quite so well, however, as one ought: That once so flutter'd, and that once so writ, A hackney-coach may chance to spoil a thought. POPE. POPE. If faith itself has different dresses worn, If wit so much from ign'rance undergo, What wonder modes in wit shofld take their Ah! let not learning too commence its foe! turn? POPE. POPE. 65 2 WI/T. What crops of wit and honesty appear He that has a little tiny witFrom spleen, from obstinacy, hate, or fear! With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain, POPE. Must make content with his fortunes fit. Though the rain it raineth every day. As shades most sweetly recommend the light, SHAKSPEARE. So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit. POE. 0O help thou my weak wit, and sharpen my dull Those half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our isle tongue. SPENSER. As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile; Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call, Her gentle wit she plies Their generation's so equivocal. To teach them truth. POPE. SPENSvER. That nmasiy knotty points there are, The rays of wit gild wheresoe'er they strike, Which all discuss, but few can clear; But are not therefore fit for all alike; As nature slily had thought fit, They charm the lively, but the grave offend, For some by-ends, to cross-bite wit. And raise a foe as often as a friend; PRIOR. Like the resistless beams of blazing light, Gloomy sits the queen, They cheer the strong, and pain the weakly Till happy chance reverts the cruel scene, sight. And apish folly, with her wild resort- BENJ. STILLINGFLEET. Of wit and jest, disturbs the gloomy court. Our wise forefathers, born in soher days, Resign'd to fools the tart and witty phrase; Tell Wit how much it wrangles The motley coat gave warning for the jest, In tickle points of niceness; Excused the wound, and sanctified the pest; Tell Wisdom she entangles But we, from high to low, all strive to sneer, Herself in over-wiseness. Will all be wits, and not the livery wear. And when they do reply, BENJ. STILLINGFLEET. Straight give them both the lie. The wits of the town came thither; SIR W. RALEIGII: Soul's Errand.'Twas strange to see how they flock'd together; I'll recant, when France can show me wit Each, strongly confident of his own way, As strong as ours, and as succinctly writ. Thought to gain the laurel that day. ROSCOMMON. SIR J. SUCKLING. Since brevity's the soul of wit, Wit, as the chief of virtue's fiiends, And tediousness the limbs and outward flour- Disais to serve ignole ends; Disdains to serve ignoble ends; ishes, I wishes, brief. Observe what loads of stupid rhymes I will be brief. SHAISPEARE. Oppress us in corrupted times. SWIFT. His eye begets occasion for his wit; Does he fancy we can sit For every object that the one doth catch, To hear his out-of-fashion wit? The other turns to a mirth-loving jest. But he takes up with younger folks, SHAKSPEARE. Who for his wine will bear his jokes. SWIFT. We work by wit, and not by witchcraft; of wit 7Men of wit And wit depends on dilatory time. Often father'd what he writ. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT. A jest's prosperity lies in the ear The Graces from the court did not provide Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. Breeding, and wit, and air, and decent pride. Of him that makes it.SWIFT. SHAKSPEARE. Let's leave this keen encounter of our wits, Shreds of wit and senseless rhymes And fall something into a slower method. Blunder'd out a thousand times. SHAKSPEARE. SWIFT. WIST.- WOE:. 653 All human race would fain be wits, From out my soul hath leapt a cry And millions miss for one that hits; For help, nor God himself could save; Young's universal passion, pride, And tears still run that naught will dry, Was never known to spread so wide. Save death's hand with the dust o' the grave. SWIFT. God knows, and we may some day know, The glad circle round him yield their souls These hidden secrets of his love; To festive mirth and wit that knows no gall. But now the stillness stuns us so, THOMSON. Darkly as in a dream we move. The glad life-pulses come and go Prudence protects and guides us; wit betrays; Over our head and at our feet; A splendid source of ill ten thousand ways; Soft airs are sighing something low; A certain snare to miseries immense; The flowers are saying something sweet. A gay prerogative from common sense; All bke Year Rsnd. "A Len r in Blac.g7e Unless strong judgment that wild thing can tame, And break to paths of virtue and of fame. Then darklingly she pined and fail'd; YOUNG. And, looking on our dead, The father wail'd awhile and ail'd, As in smooth oil the razor best is whet,d awhile and ail'd, Turn'd to the wall, and said, So wit is by politeness sharpest set: Their want of edge from their offence is seen; "'Tis dark and still, our house of life; Both pain us least when exquisitely keen. The fire is burning low; YOUNG. Our pretty one is gone, and, wife, Naught but a genius can a genius fit;'Tis time for me to go: A wit herself, Amelia weds a wit. YrOUNG A i w t"Our' Golden-heart' has gone to sleep, She's happ'd in for the night; Who for the poor renown of being smart And so to bed I'll quickly creep, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart. And sleep till morning light." YOUNG. All the Year oz2ond. "Poor Margaret." In sad and ashy weeds I sigh, WOE. I groan, I pine, I mourn; The world, so pleasant to the sight, My oaten yellow reeds I all So full of voices blithe and brave, To jet and ebon turn. With all her lamps of beauty alight My watery eyes, like winter's skies, With life!-I had forgot the grave. My furrow'd cheeks o'erflow: And there it open'd at my feet, All heavens know why, men mourii as I; Revealing a familiar face, And who can blame my woe? Upturn'd, my whiten'd look to meet, And very patient in its place. In sable robes of night my days Of joy consumed be; My poor bereaved friend, I know My sorrow sees no light; my lights Not how to word it, but would bring Through sorrow nothing see: A little solace for your woe, For now my sun his course hath run, A little love for comforting. And from his sphere doth go And yet the best that I can say To endless bed of folded lead; Will only help to sum your loss: And who can blame my woe? I can but lift my look, and pray ANNE, COUNTESS OF ARUNDEL: God help my friend to bear his cross. From Lod'ge's Ellustrations, vol. iii. I have felt something of your smart, Neither night nor dawn of day And lost the dearest thing e'er wound Puts a period to thy play: In love about a human heart; Sing, then-and extend thy span I, too, have life-roots under ground. Far beyond the date of man; 654 WOE. Wretched man, whose days are spent His dews drop mutely on the hill: In repining discontent, His cloud above it resteth still, Lives not, aged though he be, Though on its slope men toil and reap! Half a span compared with thee. More softly than the dlew is shed, VINCENT BOURNE: Or cloud is floated overhead, On the Cricket. Traznslated by COWPER. "He giveth His beloved sleep!" MRS. E. B. BROWNING: The Seep. Rising griefs distress my soul, And tears on tears successive roll: Sorrow and sin, and suffering and strife, For many an evil voice is near, Have been cast in the waters of my life; To chide my woe, and mock my fear; And they have sunk deep down to the wellAnd silent memory weeps alone - head, O'er hours of peace and gladness flown. And all that flows thence is embittered. Yet still the fountain up towards heaven For I have walk'd the happy round springs, That circles Zion's holy ground, And still the brook where'er it wanders sings; And gladly swell'd the choral lays And still wvhere'er it hath found leave to rest, That hymn'd my great Redeemer's praise, The blessed sun looks down into its breast; What time the hallow'd arch along And it reflects, as in a mirror fair, Responsive swell'd the solemn song. The image of all beauty shining there. FRANCES AiNNE KEM3LE BUTLER. Ah! why, by passing clouds oppress'd, Should vexing thoughts distract thy breast? Ever and anon of griefs subdued Turn, turn to Him in every pain There comes a token like a scorpion's sting, Whom never suppliant sought in vain,- Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued; Thy strength in joy's ecstatic day, And slight withal may be the things which Thy hope when joy has pass'd away. bring JOHN BOWDLER: Presence of God. Back on the heart the -weight which it would fling Man's at the best a creature frail and vain, Aside forever: it may be a soundIn knowledge ignorant, in strength but weak; A tone of music-summer's eve-or springSubject to sorrows, losses, sickness, pain; A flower-the wind-the ocean-which shall Each storm his state, his mind, his body wound, break: Striking the electric chain wherewith we are From some of these he never finds cessation; darkly bound; But day or night, within, without, vexation, Troubles from foes, from friends, from dearest, And how and why we know not, nor can trace near'st relation. Home to its cloud this lightning of the mind, But feel the shock renew'd, nor can efface And yet this sinful creature, frail and vain, The blight and blackening which it leaves This lump of wretchedness, of sin and sorrow, behind, This weather-beaten vessel wreckt with pain, Which out of things familiar, undesign'd Joyes not in hope of an eternal morrow; When least we deem of such, calls up to view Nor all his losses, crosses, and vexation, The spectres whom no exorcism can bind,In weight, in frequency, and long duration, The cold, the changed, perchance the dead,Can make him deeply groan for that divine anew, translation. The mourn'd, the loved, the lost-too many!ANNE BRADSTREET: Contemlplations. yet how few! BYRON: Childe Hiarold. O Earth, so full of dreary noises! O mEnrt, with waling in your voies! No words suffice the secret soul to show, O men, with wailing in your voices! 0 delved goldtthe waileng urs hieap! And truth denies all eloquence to woe. O delved gold the wailers heap! BYRON. BYRON. O strife, O curse that o'er it fall! God makes a silence through you all, Away, away, ye notes of woe, And " giveth His beloved sleep!" Be silent, thou once soothing strain, WOE. 655 Or I must flee from hence, for, oh! The night also expired, I dare not trust those sounds again. Then comes the morning bright, To me they speak of brighter days- Which is so much desired But lull the chords, for now, alas! By all that love the light. I must not think, I may not gaze This may learn On what I am-on what I was. Them that mourn, LORD BYRON: Stainzas. To put their grief to flight: The Spring succeedeth Winter, Oh, there are moments for us here, when seeing And day must follow night. Life's inequalities, and woe, and care, He therefore that sustaineth The burdens laid upon our mortal being Seem heavier than the human heart can bear. fflicthon or distress, Which every member paineth, For there are ills that come without foreboding, And findeth no release: Lightnings that fall before the thunders roll, Let such therefore despair not, And there are festering cares, that, by corroding, But on firm hope depend, Eat silently their way into the soul. Whose griefs immortal are not, And therefore must have end. And for the evils that our race inherit ANN COLLINS: Divine Songs and Meditations. What strength is given us that we may endure! Let me ask Thee, ere I sleep, Surely the God and father of our spirit Let e ask Thee, ere I sleep, Sends not afflictions which he cannot cure? To remember those who eep,Those who moan with some wild sorrow, No! there is a Physician, there is healing, That shall dread to meet the morrow; And light that beams upon life's darkest day, Let me ask Thee to abide To him whose heart is right with God, revealing At the fainting sick one's side, The wisdom and the justice of his way. Where the plaints of anguish rise PHOESBE CARY: Bearing' Life's Bnurdens. In smother'd groans and weary sighs: Give them strength to brook and bear Alas for my weary and care-haunted bosom! Trial pain and trial care The spells of the spring-time arouse it no hem see Thy saving light; more; Be Thou "watchman of their night." The song in the wild-wood, the sheen of the ELiZA COOK: Sabbatl Evening Song. blossom,.. From every piercing sorrow The fresh-welling fountain, their magic is o'er! That heaves our breast to-day, When I list to the streams, when I look on the flowers,, Or threatens us to-morrow, flowers, Hope turns our eyes away; They tell of the Past with so mournful a tone, Hope turns our eyes away; On wings of faith ascending, That I call up the throngs of my long-vanish'cl e see the land of light rWe see the land of light, hours, And feel our sorrows ending And sigh that their transports are over and In infinite delight. gone. JOSEPH COTTLE: O}nZlar C and Uycwnc'd. WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK: A Song of Mffaxy. Oh happy shades! to me unblest, They parted, ne'er to meet again, Friendly to peace, but not to me, But never either found another How ill the scene that offers rest, To free the hollow heart from paining: And heart that cannot rest, agree! They stood aloof, the scars remaining, They rstood thetscare remtaiuni, This glassy stream, that spreading pine, Like rocks that had been rent asunder: alders quivering to the breeze, Those alders quivering to the breeze, A dreary sea now flows between. Might soothe a soul less hurt than mine, COLERIDGE. And please, if anything could please. The Winter being over, But fixt unalterable care In order comes the Spring, Foregoes not what she feels within, Which does green herbs discover, Shows the same sadness everywhere, And cause the birds to sing. And slights the season and the scene, 656 WOE. For all that pleased in wood or lawn An Elimn with its coolness, While peace possess'd these silent bowers, Its fountains and its shade! Her animating smile withdrawn, A blessing in its fulness, Has lost its beauties and its powers. When buds of promise fade i COWPER O'er tears of soft contrition The S-rzrbbery. Written in a Timze of Affiction. I've seen a rainbow light; A glory and fruition, Thus some retire to nourish hopeless woe;!-yet out of sig Some seeking happiness not found below; Some to comply with humour, and a mind My Saviour! Thee possessing, To social scenes by nature disinclined; We have the joy, the balm, Some sway'd by fashion, some by deep disgust; The healing and the blessing, Some self-impoverish'd, and because they must. The sunshine and the psalm; But few that court retirement are aware The promise for the fearful, Of half the toils they must encounter there. The Elim for the faint, COWPER: Retiremenzt. The rainbow for the tearful, The swallows, in their torpid state, The glory for the saint. Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait Endure and conquer: Jove will soon dispose The call of early spring. To future good our past and present woes. The keenest frost that binds the stream, DRYDEN. The wildest wind that blows, But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, Are neither felt nor fear'd by them, The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. Secure of their repose. DRYDEN. But man, all feeling and awake, For I am now so sunk from what I was, The gloomy scene surveys; Thou find'st me at my lowest water-mark, With present ills his heart must ache, The rivers that ran in and raised my fortunes And pant for brighter days. Are all dried up, or take another course: COWPER: What I have left is from my native spring: Inzvitation into the Country [in Winter]. I've a heart still that swells in scorn of Fate, And lifts me to my banks. At threescore winters' end I died, lifts me to my banks. DRYDEN. A cheerless being, sole and sad; The nuptial knot I never tied, Could you hear the annals of our fate, And wish my father never had. Through such a train of woes if I should run, XFrolm the Greek. translated by COWPER. The day would sooner than the tale be done. DRYDEN. I've found a joy in sorrow, A secret balm for pain, Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show, A beautiful to-morrow Or exercise their spite in human woe? Of sunshine after rain. DRYDEN. I've found a branch of healing, Oh! Fortune! how thy restless wavering state Near every bitter spring; Hath fraught with cares my troubled wit! A whisper'd promise stealing - Witness this present prison, whither fate O'er every broken string. Could bear me, and the joys I quit: I've found a glad hosanna Thou causedest the guilty to be loosed For every woe and wail, From bands, wherein are innocents inclosed: A handful of sweet manna, Causing the guiltless to be strait reserved, When grapes from Eshcol fail. And freeing those that death had well deserved. I've found a Rock of Ages, But by her envy can be nothing wrought, When desert wells were dry; So God send to my foes all they have thought. And, after weary stages, QUEEN ELIZABETH: I've found an Elim nigh. When a Prisoner at Woodstock. WOE. 65 7 Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, In the darken'd room the angel glided Swells at my heart, and turns the past to pain. (Moan'd no more the child upon my breast); GOLDSMITH: Deserted VTlleae. Soft he spake: "The Lord hath heard thy weeping, Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. Death is come to give thy baby rest!" HERRICK: HlesSerides. With divine compassion on his features, Now lock my chamber-door, father, Still he spake: "Forlorn one, do not weep And say you left me sleeping; As without hope; our Gracious Master speaketh, But never tell my step-mother Lo! I give to my beloved-sleep! Of all this bitter weeping. No earthly sleep can ease my smart, (" Death is sleep; but, 0! the glorious waking Or even a while reprieve it; In the land where sorrow is no more For there's a pang at my young heart Patiently endure, then, as expecting That never more call leave it! Soon to join the loved ones gone before." Household Wflords. Christmas Carol." Oh, let me lie and weep my fill O'er wounds that heal can never; A shape of beauty beyond man's device, And 0, kind Heaven! were it thy will Which held a precious life with us begun, To close these eyes forever! Light feet at rest, like streamlets chain'd with For how can maid's affections dear ice, Recall her love mistaken? And folded hands whose little work is done, Or how can heart of maiden bear Make this poor hamlet sacred to our grief: To know that heart forsaken? Pass'd is the soul, which was of nobler worth, Like fire from glow-worm, tint from wither'd Oh, why should vows so fondly made leaf, Be broken ere the morrow, Perfume from fallen flower, or daylight from To one who loves as never maidearth. Loved in this world of sorrow? The look of scorn I cannot brave, Star, faded from our sky elsewhere to shine, Nor pity's eye more dreary; Whose beam to bless us for a while was given; A quiet sleep within the grave Little white hand, a few times clasp'd in mine: Is all for which I weary! Sweet face, whose light is now return'd to JAMES HOGG (The EaBtrick Shepiherd): heaven, The Broken hTeart. With empty arms I linger where thou liest, Listen, listen to the hour! iAnd pluck half-open'd flowers as types of Two strikes from the old church tower. thee, And think that angels, amid joys the highest, Ye who, though'tis nearly day,I' On your hearts let sorrow prey,- Are happier for thy love, which still they On your hearts let sorrow prey,share with me. Poor fools, repose and sleep are here, And God cares for you: do not fear. When hope lies dead within the heart, Listen, listen to the hour! Three strikes from the old church tower; By secret sorrow long conceai'd, The morning tilight fades aay: We shrink lest looks or words impart The morning twilight fades away: Ye who dare to greet the day, Thank God, and fear not: all is well: Tis hard to smile vhen one would weep, Now go to wvork, and so farewell. To speak when one would silent be; Hiouvsehzold [[ords. " Wa~tch-Cry." To wvake when one would wish to sleep, (From a German Patois Song.) And xvake to agony. Rose I then, with cold and trembling fingers Yet such the lot for thousands cast, Oped the dobr: in robes of shining white- Who wander in this world of care, Soft radiance dropping from his starry chaplet- And bend beneath the bitter blast, Stood God's messenger before my sight. I To save them from despair. 42 658 WOE. Yet Nature waits her guests to greet, Why, man, do such sad sighs expand thy breast? Where disappointment cannot come; Wherefore dost thou not, like a thankful guest, And Time leads with unerring feet Rise cheerfully from life's abundant feast, The weary wanderer home. And with a quiet mind go take thy rest. ANNE HUNTER: Te Lot of Thounsands. LUCRETIUS. Come not in terrors, as the King of kings, In the dark, winter of affliction's hour, But kind and good, with healing in thy wings; When sulllmmler friends and pleasures haste Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea; away, Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me. And the wreck'd heart perceives how frail each HENRY FRANCIS L'TE: Eventide. power It made a refuge, and believed a stay, Our present lot appears When man all wild and weak is seen to be,- For happy, though but ill; for ill, not worst, There's none like thee, O Lord! there's none If we procure not to ourselves more woe. like thee! MILTON. The mind is its own place, and in itself When the world's sorrow-working only death, Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. And the world's comfort —caustic to the MILTON. wound, By all the tender mercy Make the wrung spirit loathe life's dailybreath, God hath shown to human grief, As jarring music from a harp untuned; When fate or man's perverseness While yet it dare not from the discord flee,- Denied and barr'd relief,There's none like thee, O Lord there's none -By the helpless woe which taught me like thee! I To look to Him alone, From the vain appeals for justice When the toss'd mind surveys its hidden world, And wild efforts of my own,And feels in every faculty a foe, By thy light, thou unseen future, United but in strife, waves urged and hurl'd And thy tears, thou bitter past, By passion and by conscience, winds of woe, I will hope, though all forsake me, Till the whole being is a storm-swept sea,- In His mercy to the last!'There's none like thee, O Lord! there's none MRS. NORTON: TWizio,oTh. like thee! Why, thou poor mourner, in what baleful corner'Thou in adversity canst he a sun; Hast thou been talking with that witch-the Thou art a healing balm, a sheltering tower, night? On what cold stone hast thou been stretch'd'The peace, the truth, the life, the love of One Nor wound, nor grief, nor storm can over- along, ~~pourer: d~~Gathering the grumhling winds about thy head, To mix with theirs the accents of thy woes? Gifts of a king; gifts frequent and yet free: To mix with theirs the accents of thy oes OTWAY. There's none like thee, 0 Lord! none, none like thee! I wish thy lot, now bad, still worse, my friend; MARIA JANE JEWSBURY: For when at worst, they say, things always Tzeere is None liZke unto Thee. mend. Frolm the Latin of JOHN OWEN: talzslatecd by Woe! wioe! eternal mroe' COWPER: To a Friend inz Dist;ress. Not only the whisper'd prayer Of love, Oft we enhance our ills by discontent, But the imprecations of hate, And give them bulk beyond what nature meant; Reverberate A parent, brother, friend deceased, to cry, For ever and ever through the air "He's dead indeed, but he was born to die" — Above! Such temperate grief is suited to the size This fearful curse And burthen of the loss; is just and wise; Shakes the great universe. But to exclaim, "Ah! wherefore was I born, LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. Thus to be left forever thus forlorn?" WO[ E. 659 Who thus laments his loss invites distress, Canst thou not minister to. a mind diseased; And magnifies a woe that might be less, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Through dull despondence to his lot resign'd, Raze out the written troubles of the brain; And leaving reason's remedy behind. And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, PHI-EMON: Tr'anslated by COWPER. Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? This clears the cloudy front of wrinkled care,t ient Therein the patient And dries the tearful sluices of despair; Charm'd with that virtuous draught, th' exalted SHARSIEARE. mind All sense of woe delivers to the wind. IWhen we our betters see bearing our woes, All sense of woe delivers to the wind.. 5 POPE. We scarcely think our miseries our foes. SHAKSPEARE. No story I unfold of public woes, Nor bear advices of impending foes. Prophesying, with accents terrible, POPE. Of dire combustion, and confused events, The well-sung woes shall soothe my pensive New hatch'd to th' woeful time. ghost; SHAKSPEARE. He best can paint them who can feel them most. My thoughts, imprison'd in my secret woes, POPE. With flamy breaths do issue oft in sound. Alas! a mortal most oppress'd of those SIr P. SIDNEY. Whom fate has loaded with a weight of woes. Tell me, when shall these weary woes have POPE. end? Now wasting y ears my former years confound, Or shall their ruthless torment never cease, And added woes may bow me to the ground. ~But all my days in pining languor spend, POPE. Without hope of assuagement or release? SPENSER. Alas! the muses now no more inspire, Meek Lamb of God, on Thee Untuned my lute, and silent is my lyre; in sorrow I repose; My languid numbers have forgot to flow, But forhy tenderness and grace, But for Thy tenderness and grace, And fancy sinks beneath a weight of woe. How hopeless were our woes! POPE. Though bitter is my cup, He left his crook, he left his flocks; Yet how cai I repine? And, wand'ring through the lonely rocks, It stills my every restless thought It stills my every restless thought He nourish'd endless woe. He nourPRIOR. To think that cup was Thine. She ask'd the reason of his woe; Since Thou hast hallow'd woe, She ask'd, but with an air and mien I would not shun the rod, That made it easily foreseen But bless the chastening hand that seeks She fear'd too much to know. To bring me to my God. PRIOR. Distress and pain I hail, By woe the soul to daring action steals; If these conform to Thee; By woe in plaintless patience it excels. Be but Thy peace, Thy patience mine, SAVAGE. And'tis enough for me. Wise men ne'er wail their present woes, HUGH STOWELL: Resigtarzltion. But presently prevent the ways to wail. He tasted love with half his mind, SHARKSPEARE. Nor ever drank the inviolate spring So many miseries have crazed May voice, Where nighest heaven, who first could fling That my woe-wearied tongue is still. This bitter seed among mankind: S;HAKSPEARE. That could the dead, whose dying eyes The woes to come, the children yet unborn Were closed with wail, resume their life, Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. They would but find in child or wife SHAKSPEARE. An iron welcome when they rise: 66o VO.E.'Twere well, indeed, when warm with wine, Yes! often has adversity To pledge them with a kindly tear, A richer boon bestowv'd To talk them o'er, to wish them here, Has oft bequeath'd a purer joy To count their memories half divine. Than all that men call good. CAROLINE WILSON: But if they came who pass'd away- Blessings in 4fiiction. Behold their brides in other hands; Money answers every thing The hard heir strides about their lands, But a guilty conscience' sting, And will not yield them for a day. Whose immortal torments are TENNYSON: -It fillemor iam. Quite unsupportable to bear. Nor the silver of Peru, Ye noble few, who here unbending stand Nor the wealth the East do show, Beneath life's pressures, yet a little while, Nor the softest bed of down, And all your woes are past. Nor the jewels of a crown, THOMSON. Can give unto the mind a pow'r To bear its twinges half an hour. Dependants, friends, relations, love himself, ROGER WOLCOTT: Savaged by woe, forget the tender tie. THOMSON. A Wounzed Spirit Uio Cani Bear? THOMSON. If I had thought thou couldst have died, So many great I might not weep for thee; Illustrious spirits have conversed with woe, But I forgot, Nwhen by thy side, Have in her school been taught, as are enough That thou couldst mortal be: To consecrate distress, and make ambition It never through my mind had pass'd Ev'n wish the frown beyond the smile of That time would e'er be o'er,fortune. And I on thee should look my last, THOMSON: Sophzonisba. And thou shouldst smile no more! Unthinking fool, And still upon that face I look For a short dying joy to sell a deathless soul! And think'twill smile again;'Tis but a grain of sweetness they can sow, And still the thought I will not brook And reap the long sad harvest of immortal woe. That I must look in vain DR. ISAAC WATTS: Lyric Poemzs. But when I speak, thou dost not say What thou ne'er left'st unsaid; Woe! for my vine-clad home! And now I feel, as well I may, That it should ever be so dark to me, Sweet Mary, thou art dead! With its bright threshold, and its whispering If thou woulclst stay, e'en as thou art, tree! i IAll cold and all serene,That I should ever come I still might press thy silent heart, Fearing the lonely echo of a tread And where thy smiles have been Beneath the roof-tvee of my glorious (lead! While e'en thy chill, bleak corse I have, Thou seemest still mine own; Lead on! my orphan boy! Lead on! my orphan boy! But thllere-I lay thee in thy grave,Thy home is not so desolate to thee, And I am now alone! And the low shiver in the linden-tree ~M~ay bring to thee a joy; I do not think, where'er thou art, But, ah! how dark is the bright home before Thou hast forgotten me; thee And I, perhaps, may soothe this heart To her who with a joyous spirit bore thee! In thinking too of thee: N. P. WILLIS: The Soldieir's Widlow. Yet there was round thee such a dawn Of light ne'er seen before Often the clouds of deepest woe As fancy never could have drawn, So sweet a message bear, And never can restore! Dark though they seem,'twere hard to find REV. CHARLES WOLFE: A frown of anger there, If flHad Th/oug0ht T/hou Couldst Have Died. WOMAN.A. 66I I envy none their pageantry and show, An excellent thing it is when life is leaving,I envy none the gilding of their woe. Leaving with gloom and gladness, joys and YOUNG. cares,The strong heart failing, and the high soul Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes; They love a train, they tread each other's heel. grieving YOUNT G: Nigb/l IzTho n g/is. With strangest thoughts, and wild unwonted fears; I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Then, then a woman's low soft sympathy Tumultuous, where my wreck'd, desponding Comes like an angel's voice to teach us how to thought die. From wave to wave of fancied misery At random drove, her helm of reason lost. 1But a most excellent thing it is in youth, When the fond lover hears the loved one's YOUNG: izg-l't Thozughts. tone, That fears, but longs,.to syllable the truth,WOMY[AN. How their two hearts are one, and she his Sure, Nature form'd me of her softest mould,own; Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions, makes sweet human music-oh! the spells And sunk me even below my own weak sex. That haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed And sunk me even below my own weak sex. maiden tells! ADDISON. EDWIN ARNOLD: -lZomanz's Voice. At length I've acted my severest part! She smiles, and smiles, and will not sigh, I feel the woman breaking in upon me, And melt about my heart: my tears will flow. While we for hopeless passion die: ADDISON. Yet she could love, those eyes declare, Were but men nobler than they are. Where love once pleads admission to our hearts, In spite of all the virtue we can boast, Eagerly once her gracious ken Was turn'd upon the sons of men; The woman that deliberates is lost. Was trn'd pon the sons of men; ADDISON. But light the serious visage grewShe look'd, and smiled, and saw them through. The glowing dames of Zama's royal court Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms. Our, Our labour'd puny passion-fits,ADLDISON. Oh, may she scorn them still, till we NWoman! o'er whose sunken eyes Scorn them as bitterly as she. The last rushlight glimmer dies, MATTHEW ARNOLD. Lay thine ill-paid toil away Till the morrow's hungry day; I loved thee once, I'll love no more; Seek the respite and release, Seek the respite and release,, Thine be the grief, as is the blame: Heaven will give in dreams of peace: Thou art not what thou wast before,Fold thy hands! What reason I should be the same? Earth denies thee food,-not rest: Ie that can love unloved again Fold them o'er thy patient breast. IHath better store of love than brain: All the Year Round. " Folded Hands." God send me love my debts to pay, While unthrifts fool their love away. Mylriad are the phantasies SIR ROBERT AYTOUN: Wmanz's izcozstancy. That trouble the still dreams of maidenhood, And wonderful the radiant entities TWoman's grief is like a summer storm, Shaped in the passion of her brain and blood. Short as'tis violent. O Fancy! through the realm of guesses fly, JOANNA BAILLIE: Basil. Unlock the rich abstraction of her heart O born to soothe distress and lighten care, (Her soul is second in the mystery); Lively as soft, and innocent as fair! Trail thy gold meshes thro' the summer sky; Blest with that sweet simplicity of thought Question her tender breathings as they part; So rarely found, and never to be taught; Tell me, Revealer, that she thinks of me. Of winning speech, endearing, artless, kind, All the Year Round.' " Giuesses." The loveliest pattern of a female mind; 662 WOMAN//. Like some fair spirit from the realms of rest, WVhen children first begin to spell, With all her native heaven within her breast; And stammer out a syllable, So pure, so good, she scarce can guess at sin, We think them tedious creatures; But thinks the world without like that within; But difficulties soon abate, Such melting tenderness, so fond to bless, When birds are to be taught to prate, Her charity almost become excess. And women are the teachers. Wealth may be courted, Wisdom be revered, VINCENT BJOURNE:: And Beauty praised, and brutal Strength be Onz t/ze Parrot. t;nalzsslaled by COWPER. fear'd, - If women I with women may compare, But Goodness only can affection move, ut Goodness only ca, Your works are solid, others light as air: And love must owe its origin to love. Some books of women I have heard of late, WMRS. BARBAULID: C/sharaefcters. Peirused some, so witless, intricate, Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung, So void of sense and truth, as if to err Not she denied him with unholy tongue; Were only Awish'd (acting above their sphere): She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave, And all to get what (silly souls) they lack, Last at his cross, and earliest at his grave. Esteem'd to be the wisest of the pack: E. S. BARRETT: Woman017. Though (for your sake) to some this be perThere is a vile, dishonest trick in man, mitted More than in women: all the men I meet More than in women: all the men I meet To print, yet wish I may be better witted. Appear thus to me,-are harsh and rude, Prfixed to Mas. ANNE BRADSTREET'S Tent/ And have a subtilty in everything, ll/se, and zwrittenz by /ser sziser. Which love could never know; but we, fond Now I believe tradition, which doth call women, The Muses, Virtues, Graces, females all. Harbour the easiest and smoothest thoughts, Only they are not nine, eleven, or three; And think all shall go so. Our authoress proves them but an unity. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. Mankind, take up some blushes on the score: O Woman! Woman! thou art form'd to bless Monopolize perfection hence no more. The heart of restless man, to chase his care, In your own arts confess yourselves outdone: And charm existence by thy loveliness; The moon hath totally eclipsed the sun; Bright as the sunbeam, as the morning fair. Not with her sable mantle muffling him, If but thy foot fall on a wrilderness, But her bright silver makes his gold look dim: Flow'rs spring, and shed their roseate blos- Just as his beams force our pale lamps to soms there, wink, Shrouding the thorns that on thy pathway rise, And earthly filres within their ashes sink. And scattering o'er it hues of Paradise. Uiplz MRS. ANNE BRADSTREET'S TeZnfi ltInse, and zori ztt by 7 all i1ngenioss persionZ." (COTThy voice of love is music to the ear, TON MAHER, n, ed. Soothing and soft, and gentle as the stream That strays'mid summer fBowers; thy glittering Oh, what makes woman lovely! virtue, faith, tear And gentleness in suffering, —an endurance Is mutely eloquent; thy smile a beam Through scorn or trial,-these call beauty fortlh, Of light ineffable, so sweet, so dear, Give it the stamp celestial, and admit it It wakes the heart from sorrow's darkest To sisterhood with angels! dream, JOHN BRENT. Shedding a hallow'd lustre o'er our fate, Ye watchful sprites, who make e'en man your And when it beams we are not desolate. care, J. BIRD: Woman is t/se LigAst of Love. And sure more gladly hover o'er the fair, Belinda and her bird!'tis rare Who grave on adamant all changeless things, To meet with such a well-match'd pair,- The smiles of courtiers and the frowns of kings! The language and the tone, Say to what softer texture ye impart Each character in every part The quick resolves of woman's trusting heart; Sustain'd with so much grace and art, joys of a moment, wishes of an hour, And both in unison. The short eternity of Passion's power, WOMA 2V. 663 Breathed in vain oaths that pledge with gen- Of a purse well fill'd, and a heart well tried,erous zeal Oh, each a worthy lover! E'en more of fondness than they e'er shall feel, They " give her time," for her soul must slip Light fleeting vows, that never reach above, Where the world has set the grooving; And all the guileless changefulness of love! She will lie to none with her fair red lip,Is summer's leaf the record? Does it last But love seeks truer loving. Till withering autumn blot it with his blast? MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Or, frailer still, to fade ere ocean's ebb,- Vomao1n's ShortcominZgs. Graved on some filmy insect's thinnest web, Mark ruffian Violence, distain'd with crimes, Some day-fly's wing that dies and ne'er has Rousing elate in these degenerate times; slept: View unsuspecting Innocence a prey, Lives the light vow scarce longer than'tis kept? As guileful?raud points out the erring way; Ah, call not perfidy her fickle cJoice! With subtle Litigation's pliant tongue Ah, find not falsehood in an angel's voice! The life-blood equal sucks of Right and Wrong; True to one word, and constant to one aim, lHark, injured Want recounts the unlisten'd tale, Let man's hard soul be stubborn as his frame; And much-wrong'd Misery pours the unpitied But leave sweet woman's form and mind at wail. will BURNS. To bend and vary and be graceful still. A young maiden's heart THOMAS BROWN, the m2eta/zysician.' Is a rich soil, wherein lie many germs, C,~alzaszldzess of Idomarn. Hid by the cunning hand of nature there But I love you, sir: To put forth blossoms in their fittest season; And when a woman says she loves a man, And tho' the love of home first breaks the soil, The man must hear her, though he love her not. With its embracing tendrils clasping it, MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Azmroo'a Lez,,r-. Other affections, strong and warm, will grow, A worthless woman'! mere cold clay, While that one fades, as summer's flush of As all false things are! but so fair bloom She takes the breath of men away Succeeds the gentle budding of the Spring. Who gaze upon her unaware. Maids must be wives, and mothers, to fulfil I would not play her larcenous tricks Th' entire and holiest end of woman's being. To have her looks! - FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE BUTLER. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast, Bianca among' the AN'ihtinzgales. Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs; True genius, but true woman! dost deny What careth she for hearts when once possess'd? Thy woman's nature with a manly scorn, BYRON. And break away the gauds and armlets worn In her first passion, woman loves her lover: By weaker women in captivity? In all the others, all she loves is love. Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry BYRON. Is sobb'd in by a woman's voice forlorn! Alas! the love of woman! it is known Thy woman's hair, my sister, all unshorn, To be a lovelV and a fearful thing. Floats back dishevell'd strength in agony,BYRON. Disproving thy man's name! and while before The world thou burnest in a poet-fire, Woe to the man who ventures a rebuke! We see thy womlan-heart beat evermore'Twill hut precipitate a situation Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart, Extremely disagreeable, but common and higher, To calculators when they count on woman. Till God unSex thee on the heavenly shore, BYRON. Where unincarnate spirits purely aspire. Like a lovely tree M'RS. E. B. BROWNING: She grew to womanhood, and between whiles A Recognizion ( To GEORGE SAND). Rejected several suitors, just to learn She has laugh'd as softly as if she sigh'd, How to accept a better in his turn. She has counted six, and over, BYRON. 664 WOMANf. The light of love, the purity of grace, For in your eyes they sit, and there The mind, the music, breathing fiom her face. Fixed become, as in their sphere. BYRON. THOMAS CAREW. She was a soft landscape of mild earth, Oh, beautiful as morning in those hours Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet, When, as her pathway lies along the hills, Luxuriant, budding, cheerful without mirth, Hergolden fingers wake the dewy flowers, Which if not happiness is much more nigh it And softly touch the waters of the rills, Than are your mighty passions. Was she who walk d more faintly day by day, BYRCON. Till silently she perish'd by the way. All furious as a favour'd child Balk'd of its wish; or, fiercer still, It was not hers to know that perfect heav'n A woman piqued, who has her wilhlb Of passionate love return'd by love as deep; BYRON. Not hers to sing the cradle-song at even, Still slowly pass'd the melancholy day, Watching the beauty of her babe asleep; And still the stranger wist not where to stay: "Mother and brethren-these she had not The world was sad! the garden was a wild known, Anld man, the hermit, sigh'd —till womaln Save such as do the Father's will alone. smiled. Yet found she something still for which to CAMPBELL: Pleasures of Ho-je. live, — And say, without our hopes, without our fears, Hearths desolate, where angel-like she came, Without the home that plighted love endears, And " little ones" to whom her hand could Without the smile from partial beauty won, give Oh! what were man?-a world without a sun. A cup of water in her Master's name; CAMPBELL: Pleasures of lope. And breaking hearts to bind away from death With the soft hand of pitying love and faith. He that loves a rosy cheek, PH(EBE CARY: The Christian Woman. Or a coral lip admires, Or from starlike eyes doth seek Oh, woman's love hath fondly turn'd Fuel to maintain his fires; To those in dungeons deep and dark, As old Time mnakes these decay, And beacon-fires have steadily burn'd So his flames must waste away. To light a long-expected hark: But what affection, true and tried, But a smootir and stedfast mind, Which death can shake not, nor remove, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Is hers, who feeds the lamp beside Hearts with equal love cosmbined, The sepulchre of buried love! Kindle never-dying fires. PH(EBE CARY: The W.iSfe of.Yessf6-es. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. This world is full of variance; THOMAS CAREW. In everything, who taketh heed, Ask me no more, where Jove bestows, That faith and trust, and all constance, When June is past, the fading rose; Exiled be, this is no drede; For in your beauty's orient deep, And save only in womanhead, These flow'rs, as in their cases, sleep. I call ysee no sickernesse; But for all that yet, as I read, Ask me no more, whither do stray Beware alway of doubleness. The golden atoms of the day; For, in pure love, heaven did prepare Also that the fiesh summer flowers, Those powders to enrich your hair. The white and red, the blue and green, Be suddenly with winter showers Ask me no more, whither doth haste Made faint and fade, withouten ween, The nightingale, when May is past; That trust is none, as ye may seen For in your sweet dividing throat In no thing nor no steadfastness, She winters, and keeps warm her note. Except in women, thus I mean; Ask me no more, where those stars light, Yet aye beware of doubleness. That downwards fall in dead of night; CHAUCER: DZ/pici/ty of Women. WOJMAN. 665 For this ye know well, tho' I wouldin lie, Neither their sighs nor tears are true: For women is all truth and steadfastness; Those idly blow, these idly fall, For, in good faith, I never of them sie Nothing like to ours at all; But much worship, bounty, and gentleness, But sighs and tears have sexes too. Right coming, fair, and full of meekeness; COWLEY. Good, and glad, and lowly, I yoa ensure, Good, and gla, and lowly, I yoSweet stream that winds through yonder glade, Is this goodly and angelic creature. Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chaste she steals along, And if it hap a man be in disease,, Far from the world's gay busy throng, She doth her business and her full pain gentle ye t p revailing force With all her might him to comfort and please, Zn.>~~~~,Intent upon her destined course, If fro his disease him she might restrain: Graceful and useful all she does, In word lie deed, I wis, she woll not faine;,Blessing and blest wrhelre'el- she goes, With all her might she doth her business Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass, To bringen him out of his heaviness. And heaven reflected in her face. Lo, here what gentleness these women have, COWPER: A Comparison. If we could know it for our rudeness! Rich, thou hadst many lovers;-poor, hast none; How busye they be us to keep and save So surely want extinguishes the flame, Both in hele and also in sickness, And she who call'd thee once her pretty one, And always right sorry for our distress! And her Adonis, now inquires thy name. In every manere thus shew they ruth, That in them is all goodness and all truth. Where wast thou born, Sosicrates, and where, That in thein is all goodness and all truth. In what strange country, can thy parents live, CHAUCER: Pr-aise of WFomen. Who seemn'st by thy complaints not yet aware Oh, Woman! how thy truest word is slighted! That want's a crime no woman can forgive? Thy tenderness how often met with hate! From tze Greek.~ trazslated by COWPER: Thy fondest, purest hopes, how often blighted! Onz Female Inzcozstanzcy. How man, the tyrant, lords it o'er thy fate - Man may the sterner virtues know, Yet feigns for thy benign behests to wait! Determined justice, truth severe; How jealously he guards thy faithfulness, lut female hearts with pity glow, And forms a censure on thy every state! And woman holds affiction dear: THOMAS COOPER. For guiltless woes her sorrows flow, And suffering vice compels her tear;As the woman seeh s the Iomnan,'Tis hers to soothe the ills below, Curiously they note each other And bid life's fairer views appear. Curiously they note each other To woman's gentle kind we owe What comforts and delights us here: Never can the man divest her They its gay hopes on youth bestow, Of that wonldroTs charm of sex; And care they soothe, and age they cheer. Ever must she, dreaming of him, CRABBE: l'Voman. The same mystic charm annex. These are great maxims, sir, it is confess'd, Too stately for a woman's narrow breast. Strange, inborn, profound attraction! Poor love is lost in men's capacious minds; Not the poet's range of soul, 1Not the poet's range of soulIn ours, it fills up all the room it finds. Learning, science, sexless virtue, JOHN CROWNE:'hTyesles. Can the gazer's thought control. She ne'er saw courts; but courts could have outBut through every nerve and fancy done Which the inmost heart reveals, With untaught loves, and an unpractised Twined, ingrain'd, the sense of difference, heart; Like the subtle serpent, steals. Her nets the most prepared could never shun, BARRY CORNWALL (B. W. PROCTER): For nature spread them in the scorn of art. The Sexes. SIR W. DAVENANT. 666 WOiMAiNV. A woman's will Ev'n suppler than thine own, of supple kind, Is not so strong in anger as her skill. More exquisite of taste, and more than man SIR WV. DAVENANT: Albovine. refined. DRYDEN. Nothing is to man so dear As woman's love in good manner. My lady liege, said he, A good woman is manl's bliss, What all your sex desire is sovereignty. where her love right and stedfast is. DRYDEN. There is no solace under heaven, A female softness, with a manly mind; Of all that a man may neven, A duteous daughter, and a sister kind; That should a mall so much glew, In sickness patient, and in death resign'd. As a good woman that loveth true: DRYDEN. Ne dearer is none in God's hurd Their frugal father's gains they misempioy, Than a chaste woman with lovely wurd. And turn to point and pearl, and every female ROBERT DE BRUNNE: Hanz'ling of Sins. toy. If the world's age and death be argued well DRYDEN. By the sun's fall, which now, towards earth As for the women, though we scorn and flout'em, doth bend, We may live with, but cannot live without'em. Then we might fear that virtue, since she fell DRY)EN. So low as womlan, should be near her end. DONNE. High though her wit, yet humble was her mind, As if she could not, or she would not, find All will spy in thy face How much her worth transcended all her kind. A blushing womanly-discovering grace. DRYDEN. DONNE. True worth shall gain me, that it may be said, As in perfumes, composed with art and cost, Desert, not fancy, once a woman led!'Tis hard to say what scent is uppermost, DRYDEN. Nor this part musk or civet can we call, Or amlber, but a rich result of all; They list with women each degen'rate name O,tWho dares not hazard life for future fame. So she was all a sweet, whose ev'ry part, Vho dares nt hazard life for future fame. In due proportion mix'd, proclaim'd the maker's art. You that can search those many-corner'cl minds DRYDEN. Where woman's crooked fancy turns and Nwinds. DRYDEN. What did that greatness in a woman's mind? Ill lodged, and weak to act what it design'd. Somewhat in her, excelling all her indcl, DRYDEN. Excited a desire till then unknown; Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone. By day the web and loom, DRYDEN. And homely household task, shall be her doom. DRYDEN. From wars and from affairs of state abstain; Women emasculate a monarch's reign. Vain privilege, poor women have a tongue; DRYDEN. Men can stand silent and resolve on wrong. DRYDEN. But inborn worth, that fortune can control, New-strung and stiffer bent her softer soul; ITo so perverse a sex to offendagvain;. The heroine assumed the woman's place, It gives them courage to offed again. Confirm'd her mind, and fortified her face. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. No single virtue we could most commend, whose beauty is your snare; Whether the wife, the mother, or the friend; Exposed to trials, made too frail to bear. For she was each in that supreme degree, RYDEN. That, as no one prevail'd, so all was she. The several parts lay hidden in the piece;. None but a woman could a man direct Th' occasion but exerted that or this. To tell us women what we most affect. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. IVWOMAVN. 667 Unlike the niceness of our modern dames, Waking in Eden, Adam quick descried, Affected nymphs, with new affected names. By his side sleeping, what was once his side, DRYDEN. Flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone, so close,The question whose solution I require, And his first sleep became his last repose. Is, what the sex of women most desire? Fromn the tlrench. DRYDEN. Women are made as they themselves would Her wit was more than man, her innocence a choose; \ child. Too proud to ask, too humble to refuse. DRYDEN. GARTH. Degenerous passion, and for man too base, If the heart of a man is depress'd with cares, It seats its empire in the female race; The mist is dispell'd when a woman appears. There rages, and, to make its blow secure, GAY: Beyg'ar's Opera. Puts flatt'ry on, until the aim be sure. How happy could I be with either, DRYDEN. Were t'other dear charmer away! Scarcely she knew that she was great or fair, GAY: Beggar's Opera. Or wise beyond what other women are,) Or wise beyond what other women are, Most women's weak resolves, like reeds, will fly, Or (which is better) knew, but never durst com-reath, and bend with every Shake with each breath, and bend with every pare. DRYDEN.sgh: Mine, like an oak whose firm roots deep deWho knows which way she points? scend Doubling and turning lilke a hunted hare!, Nor breath of love can shake, nor sigh can Find out the meaning of her mind who can. bend. DRYDEN. GAY: Dione. The poorest of the sex have still an itch And when a lady's in the case, To know their fortunes equal to the rich: You know all other things give place. You know all other things give place. The dairy-maid enquires if she shall take GAY: Fables. The trusty tailor, and the cook forsake. DIRYDEN. Sweet woman is like the fair flower in its lustre, Which in the garden enamels the ground; O fairest of all creatures, last and best Which in the garden enamels the ground; Near it the bees, in play, flutter and cluster, Of what heav'n made, how art thou dispossess'd Of all thy native glories! And gaudy butterflies frolic around. Of all thy native glories! DRYDEN. GAY: Sonzg. DRYDEN. Oh counterpart To hear his soothing tales she feigns delays: Of our soft sex; well are you made our lords; What woman can resist the force of praise? So bold, so great, so godlike are you form'd,GAY: TiviA. How can you love so silly things as women? Good people all, with one accord, DRYDEN. Lament for Madam Blaize, Who neverwanted a good word — These bubbles of the shallowest, emptiest sorrow, From those who spoke her praise; Which children veixt for toys, and women rain For any trifle their fond hearts are set on. The needy seldom pass'd her door, DRYDEN AND LEE. And always found her kind; She freely lefit to all the poorWhy, what a wilful wayward thing is woman! She freely let to all the poor Who left a pledge behind. Even in their best pursuits so loose of soul That every breath of passion shakes their frame, She strove the neighbourhood to please And every fancy turns them. With manners wondrous winning; PHILIP FRANCIS: Ezugenia. And never follow'd wicked waysCharming woman can true converts make; Unless when she was sinning. We love the precepts for the teacher's sake; At chulrch, in silks or satins new, Virtue in her appears so bright and gay, With hoop of monstrous size, We hear with pleasure, and with pride obey. She never slumber'd in her pewDR. IBENJAMIN FRANKLIN. But when she shut her eyes. 668 VO vAN0_. Her love was sought, I do aver, Endured affliction's desolating hail, By twenty beaux and more; And watch'd a poet through misfortune's vale: The king himself has follow'd her- Her spotless dust angelic guards defend! When she has walk'd before. It is the dust of Unwin, Cowper's friend. That single title in itself is fame, But now her wealth and finery fled, For all who read his verse revere her name. Her hangers-on cut short all; WILLIAM HAYLEY: The doctors found when she was dead- The last disorder mortal. Itappy-happier far than thou Let us lament, in sorrow sore; With the laurel on thy browFor Kent-street well may say, F Kttt s, She that makes the humblest hearth That had she lived a twelvemonth moreLovely to but one on earth. She had not died to-day. MRS. HEMAN-S. GOLDSMITH: Her lot is on you,-silent tears to weep An[ Effby on t/ze Glory of Aer Sex, _/J~os. ~ary Bl ize. And patient smiles to wear through suffering's hour,'Tis thine to curb the passions' madd'ning sway, And sumless riches, from affection's deep, And wipe the mourner's bitter tear away; To pour on broken reeds —a wasted shower!'Tis thine to soothe when hope itself has fled, And to make idols, and to find them clay, And cheer with angel smile the sufferer's bed; And to bewail that worship: therefore pray! To give to earth its charm, to life its zest, Her lot is on you, to be found untired, One only task,-to bless, and to be blest. One only task,-to bless, and to be blest. Watchinc the stars out by the bed of pain, JAMES GRAHAME. With a pale cheelk, and yet a brow inspired, Who to a woman trusts his peace of mind, And a true heart of hope, though hope be Trusts a frail bark with a tempestuous wind. vain GRANVILLE. Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, And, oh, to love through all things: therefore She will, and she will not; she grants, denies, pay! Consents, retracts, advances, and then flies. MRS. HEMANS: GRANVIILE. Eveneingz Prayer at a Girls' School. You'd see, could you her inward motions watch, Thou hast a charmed cup, 0 Fame! Feigning delay, she wishes for despatch; A draught that mantles high, Then to a woman's meaning would you look, And seems to lift this earthly frame Then read her backward. Above mortality; GRANVILLE. Away! to me-a woman-bring Sweet waters from affection's spring. When foes the hand of menace shook, And friends betray'd, denied, forsook, Thou hast green laurel-leaves that twine Then Woman, meekly constant still, Into so proud a wreath, Follow'd to Calvary's fatal hill; For that resplendent gift of thine Yes, follow'd where the boldest fail'd, Heroes have smiled in death: Unmoved by threat or sneer; Give me from some kind hand a flower, For faithful Woman's love prevail'd The record of one happy hour. O'er helpless Woman's fear. MRS. HEMANS: /'VomZen and Fa'a me. THOMAS E. HANKINSON. With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, O woman! A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Such is thy varying nature, that the waves A woman sat, in unwoanly rags, Plying her needle and thread; Are not more fluctuating than thy opinion, Stitch! stitch! stitch! Nor sooner are displaced. In poverty, hunger, and dirt, HAVARD: Anger/ Charles S. And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch, Trusting in God with all her heart and mind, She sang the " Song of the Shirt." This woman proved magnanimously kind; HOOD: SongS of the Shirt. WOMAUN. 669 By custom doom'd to folly, sloth, and ease, Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain, No wonder Pope such female triflers sees; Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of Nor, would the satirist confess the truth, fancies, Nothing so like as male and female youth; Without that modest softening that enhances Nothing so like as man and woman old, — The downcast eye, repentant of the pain Their joys, their woes, their hates, if truly told:. That its mild light creates to heal again, Though different acts seem different sexes' E'en then my soul with exultation dances growth, For that to love, so long, I've dormant lain:'Tis the same principle impels them both. But when I see thee meek, and kind, and ANNE HOWARD, VISCOUNTESS IRWIN: tender, Alnswer to Pope's Characters of PWomen. Heavens! how desperately do I adore Thy winning graces!-to be thy defender A vestal priestess, proudly pure, I hotly burn-to be a CalidoreBut of a meek and quiet spirit; A very Red-Cross Knight-a stout LeanderWith soul all dauntless to endure, Might I be loved by thee like those of yore. And mood so calm that nought can stir it, JOHN KEATS: True Beauty in Womanlz. Save when a thought most deeply thrilling Thou aslest what hath changed my heart, Her eyes with gentlest tears is filling, And where hath fed my youthful folly: Which seem with her true words to start I tell thee, Tamar I tell thee, Tamar's virtuous art From the deep fountains at her heart. Hath made my spirit holy. A mien that neither seeks nor shuns Her eye-as soft and blue as even The homage scatter'd in her way; When day and night are calmly meetingA love that hath few favour'd ones., Beams on my heart like light from heaven, And yet for all can worlk and pray; And purifies its beating. A smile wherein each mortal reads The accents fall from Tamar's lip The very sympathy he needs; Like dewdrops from the rose-leaf dripping, An eye like to a mystic book When honey-bees all crowd to sip, Of lays that bard or prophet sings, And cannot cease their sipping. Which keepeth for the holiest look WILLIAM KNOX: A Virtuous Wgoman. Of holiest love its deepest things. if thou ovest JULIA WARD HOWE: kgolnan. And art a woman, hide thy love from him In her was youth; beauty, with humble port, Whom thou dost worship; never let him know Bounty, richesse, and womanly feature, How dear he is; flit like a bird before him, — God better knows than my pen can report, Lead him from tree to tree, from flower to Wisdom, largesse, estate, and cunning sure, flower; In every point so guided her measure, But be not won, or thou mayest, like that bird, In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, When caught and caged, be left to pine That Nature might no more her child advance. neglected, KIING JAMES I. And perish in forgetfulness. Aj L. E. LANDON. I meant to msake her fair, and free, and wise, And this is woman's fate: Of greatest blood, and yet more good than All her affections are call'd into life great; By winning flatteries, and then thrown back I meant the day-star should not brighter rise Upon themselves, to perish, and her heart, Nor lend like influence from his lucent seat.d with weak tenderness, BEN JONSON. Is left to bleed or break! L. E. LANDON. I mean she should be courteous, facile, sweet, What story is not full of woman's falsehood? Hating that solemn vice of greatness, pride; The sex is all a sea of wide destruction: I mean each softest virtue there should meet, We are vent'rous barks, that leave our home Fit in that softer bosom to reside. For those sure dangers which their smiles BEN JONSON. conceal. 670 WOMAN. At first they draw us in with flattering looks Of her genius within her affections, at length Of summer calms, and a soft gale of sighs; Finding vwomian's full use through man's life, Sometimes, like Sirens, charm us with their by man's skill songs, Readapted to forms fix'd for life, the strong will Dance on the waves, and show their golden And high heart which the world's creeds now locks; recklessly braved, But when the tempest comes, then leave us, From the world's crimes the man of the world Or rather help the new calamity! would have saved; And the whole storm is one injurious woman! Reconciled, as it were, the divine with the The lightning, follow'd with a thunderbolt, human, A marble-hearted woman. All the shelves, And, exalting the man, have completed the The faithless winds, blind rocks, and sinking woman. sands, OWEN MEREDITH: Luscile. Are woman all! the wreck of wretched men. LEE. Her grace of motion and of look, the smooth And swimming majesty of step and tread, Standing with reluctant feet The symmetry of form and feature, set Where the brook and river meet, — W h ook and ri leet The soul afloat, even like delicious airs Womanhood and childhood fleet. Of flute and harp. LONGFELLOW: MaidelzAood. MILiAN. Seek to be good, but aim not to be great; O! why did God create at last A woman's noblest station is retreat; This novelty on earth, this fair defect Her fairest virtues fly from public sight; Of nature, and not fill the world at once Domestic worth,-that shuns too strong a light. With men, as angels, without feminine? LORD LYTTELTON.. One only care your gentle breast should move- Of that skill the more thou know'st, The important business of your life is love. The more she will acknowledge thee her head, LORD LYTTELTON. And to realities yield all her showrs: Made so adorn for thy delight the more. What is your sex's earliest, latest care,y delight the more. MILTON. Your heart's supreme ambition? To be fair. LORD LYTTELTON: A4dvice to a Lady. For nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, Women, like princes, find few real friends. LvORD LYTTELTON: AXdv~ice to a Lnc~. And good works in her husband to promote. LORD LYTTELTON: Advz'ice to a Laely. MILTON. Women who marry, seldom act but once; At least on her bestow'd Their lot is, ere they wed, obedience Their lot is, ere they wed, edience Too much of ornament, in outward show Unto a father, thenceforth to a husband; Elaborate, of inward less exact. But in the one election that they makeMILTON. Choice of a mate for life, or death, or heaven, They may be said to act. Empty of all good, wherein consists JOHN WESTLAND MARSTON. Woman's domestic honour and chief praise. MILTON. I have no skill in woman's changeful moods, Tears without grief, and smiles without a joy. I understand in the prime end MATURIN: Berltraz. Of nature her the inferior, in the mind And inward faculties, which most excel. In fact, MILTON. Had Lucile found in life that communion which links 0 fairest of creation! last and best All that woman but dreams, feels, conceives of, Of all God's worlks! creature in whom excels and thinks, Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd With what man acts and is,-concentrating the Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet. strength MILTON. WOMANT. 67I i shall be named amongst the famousest Must'ring all her wiles, Of women, sung at solemn festivals. With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults, MILTON. Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night O woman! best of all things, as the will To storm me, over-watch'd, and wearied out, Of God ordain'd them: his cr-eating hand At times when men seek most repose and rest, Nothing imperfect or deficient left. MILTON. I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart. MILTON. She was lovely to attract Thy love, not thy subjection, and her gifts While thirst of praise, and vaifi desire of falme, Were such as under government well seem'd In every age is every woman's aim; Unseemly, to bear rule. With courtship pleased, of silly trifles proud, MILTON. Fond of a train, and happy in a crowd. For contemplation he and valour form'd, LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. For softness she and sweet attractive grace. Time still, as he flies, adds increase to her truth, MILTON. ~And gives to her mind what he stole from her Because of old youth. Thou thyself doat'dst on womankind, admiring EDWARD MOORE: HapyZ2, Marriage. Their shape, their colorur, and attractive grace, Ye are stars of the night, ye are gems of the None are, thou think'st, but taken with such morn, toys. toy.MILTON. Ye are dew-drops, whose lustre illumines the thorn; Unlder his forming hand a creature grw, And rayless that night is, that morning unblest, Man like, but different sex. MILTON. Where no beam in your eye lights up peace in MILTON. the breast. Still I see the tenor of man's woe MOORE. Holds on the same, from woman to begin. panting o'er a crowd to reign, MILTON. MILTON. More joy it gives to woman's breast Her face was veil'd; yet, to my fancied sight, To make ten frigid coxcombs vain, Love, sweetness, goodness in her person shined. Than one true manly lover blest! MILTON. MOORE. To add what wants Raptured he quits each dozing sage, In female sex, the more to draw his love, 0 woman! for thy lovelier page! And render me more equal; and, perhaps, Sweet book! unlike the books of art, A thing not undesirable, some time Whose errors are thy fairest part; Superior; for inferior, who is free? In whom the dear errata column MILTON. Is the best page in all the volume. It is for that such outward ornament MOORE. Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts New Eves in all her daughters came, Were left for haste unfinish'd. As strong to charm, as weak to err, MILTON. As sure of man through praise or blame, What she wills to do or say Whate'er they brought him, pride or shame, Is wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. Their still unreasoning worshipper. MILTON. Moo.RE: Loves of the Anzgels. Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth, I never rested on the Muses' bed, That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won. Nor dipt my quill in the Thessalian fountain: MILTON. My rustic muse was rudely fostered, Thus it shall befall And flies too low to reach the double mountain. Him who, to worth in woman overtrusting, Then do not sparks with your bright suns comLets her will rule: restraint she will not brook, pare; And left to herself, if evil thence ensue, Perfection in a woman's work is rare; She first his weak indulgence will accuse. From an untroubled mind should verses flow; MILTON. My discontent makes mine too muddy show; 6 7 2 WOMAN. And hoarse encumbrances of household care,- Who was the cause of a long ten years' war, Where these remain, the Muses ne'er repair. And laid at last old Troy in ashes?. Woman! MARY MORPETH: Prefixed to the Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman! Poexmts of Dr.zmzmond of Hazout/orlinen. OTWAY: The Or//han. If women could be fair, and yet not fond, Ah, woman! in this world of ours, What boon can be compared to thee? Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, What boon can be compared to thee? I would not marvel that they make men bond How slow would drag life's weary hours, By service long to purchase their good will; Though man's proud brow were bound with But when I see how frail those creatures are, flovers, I muse that men forget themselves so far. And his the wealth of land and sea, If destined to exist alone To mark the choice they make, and how they And ne'er call woman's heart his own! change, How oft from Phcebus they do fly to Pan; RM~y mother! at that holy name l l Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range, Within 1m1y bosom there's a gush These gentle birds that fly from man to manl: Of feeling, which no time can tame, — Who would not scorn and shake them from the A feeling, which for years of fame fist, I would not, could not crush; And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list? And, sisters! ye are dear as life: But wsihen I look upon my w.ife, Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both, My heart-blood gives a sudden rush, To pass the time when nothing else can My heart-blood gives a sudden rush, Alnd all my fond affections blend please, And train them to our lure with subtle oath, In mother, sister, wife, and friend. Till, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease; Yes, worman's love is free from guile, And then we say, when we their fancy try, And pure as bright Aurora's ray; To play with fools, oh, what a fool was I! The heart will melt before her smile, EARL OF OXFORD. And base-born passions fade away: Still an angel appear to each lover beside, Were I the monarch of the earth, But still be a woman to you. Or master of the swelling sea, PARNELL: Whjy t/hy Beauty App6ears. I would not estimate their worth, May the man Dear woman! half the price of thee. That cheerfully recounts the female's praise GEORGE P. MORRIS: 4oraln. Find equal love, and love's untainted sweets Enjoy with honour! And haply, as the solemn years go by, Enjoy with onourIIPS. He will think sometimes, with regretful sigh, The other wvoman was less true than I. I fill this cup to one made up of loveliness Miss D. M. MULocH: Oznl a Woman. alone, A woman, of her gentle sex the seeming paraWho trusts himself to woman, or to waves, gon; Should never hazard what he fears to lose: To whom the better elements and kindly stars For he that ventures all his hopes, like me, have given On the frail promise of a woman's smiles, A form so fair that, like the air,'tis less of earth Like me will be deceived, and curse his folly. than heaven. OLDMIXON: Governwzor of Cyprzs. EDWARD C. PINKNEY: A I-ealth,. And yet, believe me, good as well as ill, 0 woman, lovely woman, nature fora'd thee VWoman's at best a contradiction still. To temper man: we had been brutes without Heaven, when it strives to polish all it can ~~~thee. ~ OTWAY. Its last best work, but forms a softer man; Picks from each sex, to make the favourite blest: What mighty ills have not been done by woman? Your love of pleasure, our desire of rest. Who was't betray'd the Capitol? A woman! Blends, in exception to all general rules, Who lost Mark Antony the world? A woman! Your taste of follies with our scorn of fools; WOMAN. 673 Reserve with frankness, art with truth allied, Ladies like variegated tulips show; Courage with-softness, modesty with pride;'Tis to their changes half their charms we owe; Fix'd principles, with fancy ever new; Such happy spots the nice admirer take, Shakes all together, and produces-you. Fine by defect, and delicately weak. POPE. POPE. Hail, wayward queen, The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green; Who rule the sex to fifty from fifteen; She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen. Parent of vapours and of female wit, POPE. Who give th' hysteric, or poetic fit; -She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought, On various tempers act by various ways, But never, never reach'd one generous thought; Make some take physic, others scribble plays; Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, Who cause the proud their visits to delay, Content to dwell in decencies forever. And send the godly in a pet to pray. POPE. POPE. Our humble province is to tend the fair; No conquests she, but o'er herself, desired; To save the powder from too rude a gale, No arts essay'd but not to be admired. Nor let th' imprison'd essences exhale. POPE. POPE. /So unaffected, so composed a mind; Nothing so true as what you once let fall,, s "' Most women have no characters at all." So firm, so soft, so strong, yet so refined/ Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear, Heav'n; as its purest gold, by tortures tried: And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair. The saint sustained it, but the woman died. POPE. POPE. Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a hall.. She went from opera, park, assembly, play, POPE. To morning walks, and pray'rs three hours a day; How vain are all these glories, all our pains, To part her time twixt reading and bohea, Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains! To muse and spill her solitary tea. That men may say, when we the fi-ont tier grace, POPE. Behold the first in virtue, as in face. This day black omens threat the brightest fair POPE. That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care. POPE. Hier joy in gilded chariots, when alive, And love of ombre, after death survive. Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, POPE. Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place. POPE. Think not, when woman's transient breath is How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! fled, The world forgetting, by the world forgot. That all her vanities at once are dead; POPE. Succeeding vanities she still regards, And, though she plays no more, o'erlooks the Woman and fool are two hard things to hit, cards. For true no meaning puzzles more than wit. POPE. POPE. As once inclosed in woman's beauteous mould; The ruling passion conquers reason still. Thence by a soft transition we repair POPE. From earthly vehicles to those of air. POPE. If to her share some female errors fall, She on the quilt sinks with becoming woe, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. Wrapt in a gown for sickness and for show. POPE. Strange graces still, and stranger flights, she had; Still in constraint your suff'ring sex remains, Was just not ugly, and was just not mad. Or bound in formal or in real chains. POPE. POPE. 43 674 WOMAN. The merchant from th' exchange returns inl We in vain the fickle sex pursue, peace, Who change the constant lover for the new. And the long labours of the toilet cease. PRIOR. POPE. Both would their little ends secure; Yet mark the fate of a whole set of queens! He sighs for freedom, she for pow'r: Power all their end. but beauty all the means: His wishes tend abroad to roam, In youth they conquer with so wild a rage And hers to domineer at hone. PRIOR. As leaves them scarce a subject in their age. For foreign glory, foreign joy they roam: The tender accent of a woman's cry No thought of peace or happiness at home. Will pass unheard, will unregarded die, POPE. When the rough seaman's louder shouts prevail. In men we various ruling passions find; When fair occasion shows the springing gale. In women, two almost divide the kind: PRIOR. Those only fix'd, they first or last obey,- Be to her virtues very kind; The love of pleasure, and the love of sway. Be to her faults a little blind. POPE. PRIOR: An Englkish Padlock. Oh! blest with temper whose unclouded ray Be to her merits kind, Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day; And to her faults, %whate'er they are, be blind. She who can own a sister's charms, or hear PRIOR: P;rol. to the Royal Mfischief; Sighs for a daughter with unwounded ear; That never answers till a husband cools, Before I trust my Fate to thee, Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules; Or place my Sand in thine, Charms by accepting, by submitting sways, Before I let thy Future give Yet has her humnour most when she obeys; Colour and form to mine, Lets fops or fortune fly which way they will; Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul toDisdains all loss of tickets or quadrille; night for me. Spleen, vapours, or small-pox-above them all; break all slighter bonds, or feel And mistress of herself, though china fall. A shadow of regret: POPE: Ejpistle to a Lady. Is there one link within the Past And now unveil'd the toilet stands display'd, That holds thy spirit yet? Each silver vase in mystic order laid; Or is thy Faith as clear and free as that which I First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores, can pledge to thee? With head uncover'd, the cosmetic powers. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, A Woman's Question. And all Arabia breathes from yonder box;, I will not let you say a Woman's part The tortoise here and elephant unite, Tettiheeneeh i, Must be to give exclusive love alone: Ttransform'd to combs, the speckled and the wransform'dito cbtepkdn h Dearest, although I love you so, my heart H werephite;s of pins extend their s rows; Answers a thousand claims besides your own. Here piles of pins extend their shiningrows; Puff, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux. I love-what do I not love? earth and air POPE: Rape of the Lock. Find space within my heart, and myriad Her face with thousand beauties blest; things, You would not deign to heed, are cherish'd Her mind with thousand virtues stored; Her power with boundless joy confess'd; And vibrate on its very inmost strings. Her person only not adored. PRIOR. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: A Woman's Answer. Ten thousand trifles light as these Nor can my rage nor anger move: Well, the links are broken, She should be humble who would please; All is past; And she must suffer who can love. This farewell, when spoken, PRIOR. Is the last. IWOM~AN. 675 I have tried and striven Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, All in vain; Unapt to toil and trouble in the world, Such bonds must be riven, But that our soft conditions, and our hearts, Spite of pain, Should well agree with our external parts? And never, never, never SHAKSPEARE. Knit. again. A woman moved is like a fountain troublecld ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; A T-omzan's Zast k~ord. And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Men are more eloquent than women made, Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. But women are more powerful to persuade. SHAKSPEARE. RANDOLPH. I have no other but a woman's reason: Assert, ye fair ones, who in judgment sit, I think him so because I think him so. Your ancient empire over love and w.- SHAK1SPEARE. ROWE. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty, She is a woman; therefore to be won. Softness, and sweetest innocence, she wears, SHAKSPEARE. And looks like nature in the world's first spring. Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, ROWE. Shall will my love. How poor a thing is he, how worthy scorn, SHAKSPEARE. Who leaves the guidance of imperial manhood For several virtues To such a paltry piece of stuff'as this! I have liked several women; never any A moppet made of prettiness and pride; With so full a soul. That oftener does her giddy fancies change SHAKSPEARE. Than glittering dew-drops in the sun do colour. ROWE: 37a1e S/tore. WVoman's gentle brain Could not drop forth such giant rude invention, O woman! in our hours of ease, Such Ethiop words. Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, SHAKSPEARE. And variable as the shade Falsehood and cowardice By the light quivering aspen made; Are things that women highly hold in hate. When pain and anguish wring the brow, Z__ 1 t,.,~~~~ SHAKSPEARE. A ministering angel thou! SIRx WALTER SCOTT: Alarmion. I am weaker than a woman's tear, -Wolmlan's fait~h and nrwoman'sL1Z trust, —~ Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, Write the characters in dust, SHAKSPEARE. Stamp them on the running stream, These women are shrewd tempters with their Print them on the moon's pale beam, tongues. And each evanescent letter SHAKSPEARE. Shall be clearer, firmer, better, The full sum of me And more permanent, I ween, TIs an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; Than the thing those letters mean. Happy in this, she is not yet so old I have strain'd the spider's thread But she may learn.'Gainst the promise of a maid; SIHAKSPEARE. I have weigh'd a grain of sand Her voice was ever soft,'Gainst her plight of heart and hand;'Gainst her plight of heart and hand; Gentle and low,-an excellent thing in woman. I told my true love of the token, SHAKSPEARE. How her faith proved light, and her word was broken: When a world of men Again her word and truth she plight, Could not prevail with all their oratory, And I believed them again ere night. Yet hath a woman's kindness overruled. SIR WALTER SCOTT: from The Betrothed. SHAKSPEARE. 676,WOMAN. You're pictures out of doors, Was ever woman in this humouri woo'd? Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Was ever woman in this humour won? Players in your housewifery. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. We cannot fight for love, as men may do; A woman, that is like a German clock, A woml.a thpatis likerout a Geramanc, We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. Still a repairing, ever out of frame, SHAKSPEARE. And never going aright. SHAKSPEARE. I am ashamed that women are so simple If seriously I may convey my thoughts To seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, In this mly light deliverance, I have spoke When they are bound to love, serve, and obey. With one that in her sex, her years, profession, SHAKSPEARE. Wisdom and constancy hath amazed me more WhnIsdoma constan, bt wamzed Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; Than I dare blame my weakness. Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Men more divine, Whose worth Indued with intellectual sense and soul, Arie masters to their females, and their lorf Stood challenger on mount of all the age, For her perfections. SHAKSPEAHAKSPRE. SHAKSPEARE. From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: A woman's tongue, They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; That gives not half so great a blow to th' ear They are the books, the arts, the academies, will a chestnut in a farmer's fire. That show, contain, and nourish all the world. SHAKSPESARE. SHAKSPEARE. Ah the strange difference of man and man: Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright To thee a woman's services are due; Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night My soul usurps my body. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: SHAKSPEARE. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. ~~~~~~SH ~AKSPEAEPARE. Nay, women are frail too; If one by one you wedded all the world, Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; e by one you, WThich are as easy broke as they malke forms. Or, from the all that are, tookl something good, Women! —Help heaven! men their creation To make a perfect woman, she you kill'c nmar Would be unparallel'd. SHAKSPEARE. In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; For we are soft as our complexions are, A woman, naturally born to tears; And credulous to false prints. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Women will love her that she is a woman,'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, More worth than any man; men, that she is The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, The rarest of all women. Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. You've too a woman's heart, which ever yet No woman's heart Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty. So big to hold so much: they lack retention. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. However we may praise ourselves, ~If the boy have not a woman's gift, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, To rain a shower of commanded tears, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, An onion will do well for such a shift. Than woman's are. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. WOMAN. 6 7 7 A woman's fade, with nature's own hand painted, Now smiling smoothly, like to summer's day, Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; Now glooming sadly, so to cloak her matter: A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted Yet were her words but wind, and all her tears With shifting change, as is false woman's but water. fashion; I SPENSER. An eye more bright than theirs, less false ill If hel nature be so, rolling, That she will plague the Ihan that loves her Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; most, A man in hue, all hues in his controlling, And take delight to encrease a wretch's woe, Which steal men's eyes, and women's souls Then all her nature's goodly gifts are lost. amazeth. SPENSER. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet XX. Never the earth on his round shoulders bare e in her speech, ne in her'haviour, A maid train'd up from high or low degree, Was lightness seen, or looser vanity, t>O, ~But gracious womanhood and gravity. That in her doings better could compare Mirth with respect, few words with courtesy. SIR P. SIDNEY. 0 who does know the bent of woman's fantasy? So easy is't t' appease the stormy wind SPENSER. Qf malice, in the calm of pleasant womankind. You that have promised to yourselves propriety SIR P. SIDNEY. in love, Simple woman Know, women's hearts like straws do move. Is weak in intellect as well as frame, SIR J. SUCKLING. And judges often from the partial voice If hearers are amazed from whence That soothes her wvishes most. Proceeds that fund of wit and sense, SMOLLETT: RegiciTe. Which, though her modesty would shroud, With footstep weary and wan, Breaks like the sun behind a cloud; With eyelids heavy.and red, While gracefulness its art conceals, A lady was seen in a ball-room dress, And yet through ev'ry motion steals. Betaking herself to bed. SWIFT. Flirt-flirt-flirt' She valued nothing less With beauty, but wanting in tin, Than titles, figure, shape, and dress; This unfortunate damsel, half weeping, half That merit should be chiefly placed pert, In judgment, knowledge, wit, and taste. Thus sang the Song of the Spin. SWIFT. Song of tie Spin. Flirt-flirt-flirt! How could it come into your mind My labour never ends; To pitch on me, of all mankind, And with what reward? An ensign raw, Against the sex to write a satire, Without money, talent, or friends, And brand me for a woman-hater? SWIFT. A shabby buggy, a worn-out horse, A hood-and that is all; Love with white lead cements his wings; For an ensign's pay, in the present day, White lead was sent us to repair Is unjustifiably small! Twro brightest, brittlest earthly thingsSo~ng of aftle Spi~n. A lady's face, and china ware. There are three things a wise man will not trust: SWIFT. The wind, the sunshine of an April day, Then to her glass; and, Betty, pray, And woman's plighted faith. Don't I look frightfully to-day? SOUTHEY: Madoc. SWIFT. Thereto when needed, she could weep and A dog, a parrot, or an ape, pray,- Or some worse brute in human shape, And when she listed she could fawn and Engross the falicies of the fair. flatter; SWIFT. 678 WOM/AN. She reason'd without plodding long, Curly gold locks cover foolish br:ains, Nor ever gave her judgment wrong. Billing and cooing is all your cheer, ISlwelIFb. Sighing and singing of midnight strains Do I, like the female tribe, Under Bonnybell's window-panes: Think it well to fleer and gibe? Wait till you come to Forty Year. SWIFT. I thought the life of every lady Forty times over let Michaelnlas pass, Should be one continual playday, Grizzling hair the brain doth clear; Balls and masquerades and shows. Then you know the worth of a lass, SWIFT. Once you have come to Forty Year. If chance a mouse creeps in her sight, WVILLIASM M. THACKERAY: Can finely counterfeit a fright; Age of WisTdom. So sweetly screams, if it comes near her, She ravishes all hearts to hear her. To train the foliage o'er the snowy lawn; SWIFT. To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page; Woman is the lesser man. To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, TENNYSON. And heighten nature's dainties; in their race Could we mnalke her as the man, ~ To rear the graces into second life; Sweet love were slain, whose dearest bond i To give society its highest taste; this, Well-order'd home man's best delight to make; Not like to like, but like in difference: Ad by submissive wisdom, modest slill, Yet in the long years liker must they grow; With every gentle care-eluding a-t The man be more of woman, she of man; To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, He gain in sweetness, and in moral height, And sweeten all the toils of human lie: Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the This be the female dignity and praise. world; - THOMSON: Seasonrs. She mental breadth, nor fail in childwar car A grand attempt some Amazonian dames More as the double-natured poet, each; Contrive whereby to glorify their names; Till at the last she set herself to man, A ruff for Boston Necl of mud and turfe, Like perfect llmusic unto noble wolrds. Reaching from side to side, from surf to surf, TENNYSON. Their nimble hands spin up like Christmas I saw, wherever light illumineth, pyes; Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand Their pastry by degrees on high doth rise. The downward slope to death. The wheel at home counts in an holiday, Those far-renowned brides of ancient song Since while the mistress worketh it may play. Peopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, BENJAMIN TOAIPSON: And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong, Onz a Fo-tficalionz at Boston bcgez by WoImen And trumpets blown for wars. (Aczw Eznglzand's Clrisis). TENNYSON: Drenam of Fair Women. He's a fool, who thinks by force or skill And I went mourning: "No fair Hebrew boy To turn the current of a woman's will. Shall smile away my maiden blame among SR S. TuE Ad es. SIR S. TUKE: A4venhii-es. The Hebrew mothers,"-emptiecd of all joy, Leaving the dance and song, Women, born to be controll'd, Leaving the olive-gardens far below, Stoop to the forward and the bold. Leaving the promise of my bridal bower, WALLER. The valleys of grape-loaded vines that glow Happy is she that from the world retires, Beneath the battled tower. And carries with her what the world admires; TENNYSON: Dreamv of Fair Women. Thrice happy she, whose young thoughts fix'd Ho! pretty page with the dimpled chin, above, That never has known the barber's shear, While she is lovely does to heav'n make love: All your wish is woman to win — I need not urge your promise, ere you find This is the way that boys begin: An entrance here, to leave the world behind. Wait till you come to Forty Year. WALLER. WOMAN2V. 679 Princes that fly, their sceptres left behind, Wrong her by petulance, suspicion, all Contempt or pity where they travel, find; That makes her cup a bitterness,-yet give The ensigns of our pow'r about we bear, One evidence of love, and earth hath not And ev'ry land pays tribute to the fair. An emblem of devotedness like hers. WALLER. But, oh, estrange her once, —it boots not how, — Were men so dull they could not see By wrong or silence, any thing that tells Were men so dull they could not see That Lyce painted? should they flee A change has come upon your tenderness,And there is not a high thing out of heaven Like simple birds into a net, Her pride o'ermnastereth not. So grossly woven and ill set? WALLER. N. P. WILLIS: Hagar in the Wilderness. She that so far the rest outshined; Oh, man may bear with suffering: his heart Sylvia the fair, while she was kind, Is a strong thing, and godlike in the grasp Seems only not unhandsome now. Of pain that wrings mortality; but tear WALLER. One chord affection clings to, part one tie So in this throng bright Sacharissa. fared, That binds him unto woman's delicate love, Oppress'd by those who strove to be her guard; And his great spirit yieldeth like a reed. As ships, though never so obsequious, fall N. P. WILLIS. Foul in a tempest on their admiral. Shall a woman's virtues move WVALLER. Aswm y hWALLER.pMe to perish for her love? As women yet who apprehend Or her merit's value known Some sudden cause of causeless fear, Make me quite forget mine own? Although that seeming cause take end, Be she with that goodness blest A shaking through their limbs they find. Which may gain her name of best, If she seem not good to me, Sweetness, truth, and ev'ry grace What care I how good she be? Which time and use are wont to teach, WITHER: llrstresse of Peilarete. The eye may in a moment reach, And read distinctly in her face. Great or good, or kind or fair, WALLER. I will ne'er the more despair; If she love me, this believe, They both'gan laugh, and said it was no mar'l:If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve; The Authoresse was a right Du Bartas girle: If she slight me when I woo, Good sooth, quoth the old Don, tell me ye so? I can scorn and let her go: I muse whither at length these girls will go. For if she be not for me, It half revives my chill fiost-bitten blood What care I for whom she be? To see a woman once do ought that's good; WITHER: 3iristress ofj/'ilarefe. And chode by Chaucer's boots and Homer's furs: She dwelt among untrodden ways, Let men look to't, lest women wear the spurs) Beside the springs of Dove, NATHANIEL WARD: A maid whom there were none to praise, Prefatory Lines to the Poems of Anne Bradstreet. And very few to love. Grief is the unhappy charter of our sex: A violet by a mossy stone, The gods who gave us readier tears to shed Half hidden, from the eye! Gave us more cause to shed them. Fair as a star, when only one WHITEHEAD: Creusa. Is shining in the sky. May slighted woman turn, She lived unknown,-and few could know And, as the vine the oak hath shaken off, When Lucy ceased to be; Bend lightly to her tendencies again? But she is in her grave, and, oh! Oh, no! by all her loveliness, by all The difference to me. The differ 1 ORDSWORTH: That makes life poetry and beauty, no! Make her a slave; steal from her rosy cheek She Dzedt ng Untrodden Ways By needless jealousies; let the last star She was a phantom of delight Leave her a watcher by your couch of pain; When first she gleam'd upon my sight; 68o0 WOMAAN. - ORDS. A lovely apparition, sent So shall a light that cannot fade To be a moment's ornament; Beam on thee from on high, Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, And angel voices say to thee, Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; "These things shall never die!" But all things else about her drawn All the Year Round.- "Intperishable." From May-time and the cheerful dawn; Hush! speak low; tread softly; A dainty shape, an image gay, Draw the sheet aside: Draw the sheet aside: To haunt, to startle, and waylay. Yes, she does look peaceful; I saw her, upon nearer view, With that smile she died. A spirit, yet a woman too I Yet stern want and sorrow Her household motions light and free, Even now you trace And steps of virgin liberty; On the wan, woln features A countenance in which did meet Of the still, white face. Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good he For human nature's daily food, Nlwb her hitter part: For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Now how still the violets Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. Lie upon her heat She who toil'd and labour'd And now I see, with eye serene, For her daily bread, — The very pulse of the machine; See the velvet hangings See the velvet hangings A being breathing thoughtful breath, Of this stately bed A traveller betwixt life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Yes, they did forgive her! Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; Brought her home at last, A perfect woman, nobly plann'd, Strove to cover over To warn, to comfort, and command; Their relentless past. And yet a spirit still and bright, Ah! they would have given With something of an angel-light. Wealth, and name, and pride, WORDSWORTH. To see her looking happy Your sex's glory'tis to shine unknown; Once before she died! Of all applause be fondest of your own. They strove hard to please her; YOURNG. But, when death is near, Women were made to give our eyes delight; All, you know, is deadend,A female sloven is an odious sight. Hope, and joy, and fear. YOUNG: Love ofiFame. And, besides, one sorrow, Deeper still,-one pain,Was beyond them: healing WORDS. Came to-day in vain. The cruel and the bitter word, If she had but linger'd That wounded as it fell, Just a few hours more, Or had this letter lreach'd her The chilling want of sympathy, We feel, but never tell, Just one day before! The hard repulse that chills the heart I can almost pity Whose hopes were bounding high, Even him to-day, In an unfading record kept,- Though he let this anguish These things shall never die. Eat her heart away. Let nothing pass; for every hand Yet she never blamed him: Must find some work to do; One day you shall know Lose not a chance to waken love; How this sorrow happen'd: Be firm, and just, and true. It was long ago. WORDS. 68i I have read his letter: It is the thought writ down we want, Many a weary year Not its effect, —not likenesses of likenesses; For one word she hunger'd: And such descriptions are not, more than There are thousands here i gloves Instead of hands to shake, enough for us. If she could but hear it, Could but understand! P. J. BAILEY: Festus. See, I put the letter ~We no solution of our question find; In her cold white hand. Your words bewilder, not direct, the mind. Even those words, so long'd for, SIR R. BLACKMORE. Do not stir her rest: Well, I should not murmur, For he could coin and counterfeit For God judges best. New words with little or no wit; And when with hasty noise he spoke'em, She needs n o lmorle pity; Tlhe ignorant for current took'em. But I mourn his fate BUTLER::Izudibras. When he hears his letter Came a day too late! Words so debased and hard, no stone Al1 the Year Round.- "Too Late." Was hard enough to touch them on. BUTLER: 2%tdKibras. An excellent thing it is when life is leaving,- Leaving with gloorm and gladness, joys and But words are things, and a small drop of ink, cares,- Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces The strong heart failing, and the high soul That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, grieving think. With strangest thoughts and wild unwonted BYRON. fears; Then, then a woman's low soft sympathy The strongest love hath yet, at times, Comes like an angel's voice to teach us how to A weakness in its pow'r; die. Aund latent sickness often sends The madness of an hour! But a most excellent thing it is in youth, To her I loved, in bitterness When the fond lover hears the loved one's To her I loved, in bitterness I said a cruel thing: tone, Ah me!i how much of misery That fears, but longs, to syllable the truth,- From idle words may spring! How their two hearts are one, and she his own; I loved her then-I love her still; It makes sweet human music-oh! the spells But there was in my blood That haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed A growing fever, that did give maiden tells! Its frenzy to my mood: EDWIN ARNOLD. I sneer'd because another's sneers Words are the notes of thought, and nothing Had power my heart to wring: more. Ah me! how much of misery Words are like sea-shells on the shore: they From idle words may spring! show And when, with tears of wonder, she Where the mind ends, and not how far it has been.)~ ~Look'd up into my face, been. I coldly turn'd away mine eyes, Let every thought, too, soldier-like, be stripp'd, o Avoiding her embrace; And roughly look'd over. P. J. BAILEY. Idly I spake of idle doubts, And many an idle thing: A mist of words, Ah me! hqw much of misery Like haloes round the moon, though they From idle words may spring! enlarge The seeming size of thoughts, make the light less'Twas over soon, the cause,-not soon doubly. The sad effects pass'd by; 682 WOR:DS. They rule beneath the winter's sun, Speak gently to the young; for they And'neath the summer's sky! Will have enough to bear: I sought forgiveness,-she forgave, Pass through this world as best they may, But kept the lurking sting:'Tis full of anxious care. Alas! how much of misery Speak gently to the aged one; From idle words may spring! Grieve not the care-worn heart: Month after month, year after year, The sands of life are nearly run: I strove to win again Let such in peace depart. The heart an idle word had lost, Speak gently, kindly, to the poor; But strove, alas! in vain. Let no harsh tone be heard: Oh! ye who love, beware lest thorns They have enough they must endure, Across Love's path ye fling: Without an unkind word. Ye little Iknow what misery GEORGE W. HANGFORD: Speak Gently. From idle words may spring. Speak gently to the erring; know MAJOR CALDER CAMPBELL: Idle Wor-dns (London Kieepske). They must have toil'd in vain; Perchance unkindness made them so: Where do the words of Greece and Rome Oh, win them back again! excel, Speak gently: He who gave His life That England may not please the ear as well? To bend man's stubborn will, What mighty magic's in the place or air, When elements were fierce in strife, That all perfection needs must centre there? Said to them, " Peace, be still In states let strangers thirdly be preferr'd; In states of letters merit should be heard. Speak gently:'tis a little thing CHURCHILL. Dropp'd in the heart's deep well; The good, the joy, which it may bring, His words seem'd oracles Eternity shall tell. That pierced their bosoms; and each man GEORGE W. HANGFORD: Speak Gently. would turn One vague inflection spoils the whole with doubt; And gaze in wonder in his neighbour's face, One trivial letter ruins all, left out; That with the like dumb wonder answer'd A knot can choke a felon into clay; him. A knot will save him, spelt without the k; You could have heard The smallest word has some unguarded spot, The beating of your pulses while he spake. And danger lurks in i without a dot. GEORGE CROLY. O. W. HOLMES. Cheap vulgar art, whose narrowness affords Words that bring back the glad and peaceful No flight for thoughts, but poorly sticks at hours words. That watch'd our frolics in the sun and shade, SIR J. DENHAM. When ev'ry wind seem'd whispering to the flowers Speak gently! it is better far Of lovelier worlds, where happier children To rule by love than fear; playd. Speak gently! let not harsh words mar The good we might do here. Words that recall the feelings of our youth, — The garden where our names in emeralds Speak gently! Love doth whisper low grew; The vows that true hearts bind; The truth we loved when fairy-tales were truth, And gently Friendship's accents flow; When god and goddess, fay and fawn, were Affection's voice is kind. true. Speak gently to the little child; The tiny words that grew from tiny acts; Its love be sure to gain; The low love-language of the childish heart; Teach it in accents soft and mild: The stammer that interpreted strange facts, It may not long remain. Or strove some school-boy legend to impart. WOR DS. 683 The names our playmates gave in mossy bower, Of the chain that once bound me When Mab and Ariel for our sponsors stood; The memory is mine, Names haply borrow'd from some Greek-call'd But my words are around thee, flower, Their power is on thine: Or given in praise by Love when we were No hope, no repentance; good. My weakness is o'er; It died with the sentence, — Nor less the words our statelier years record, I love thee no more. By Fancy coin'd, yet bearing Reason's stamp, L. E. LANDON: lWVeakness Ends wailt.Love. Words with which Wit has play'd, or Life adored,- Nay, speak no ill; a kindly word Slaves of the king, or servants of the lamp. Can never leave a sting behind; And, oh, to breathe each tale we've heard The words of men who clothe our thoughts Is far beneath a noble mind Is far beneath a noble mind; with speech, For oft a better seed is sown Gay proverb, sparkling jest, or patriot song; By choosing thus a klnder plan; Words which, like sunbeams, through the darkFor if but little good we've known, Let's speak of all the good we can. Show lowly worth, or brand imperial wrong. Give me the heart that fain would hide, The words of men that walk'd in war's red Would fain another's fault efface: ways, fHow can it please our human pride Or spake their fireside thoughts to child or To prove humanity but base? wife, No! let it reach a higher mode, The simple words that, giving blame or praise, A nobler estimate of man: A nobler estimate of nman: Ring down the echoing avenues of life. Be earnest in the search of good, Glad words that breathe of sunshine and of And speak of all the best we can. morn; ~~~~morn; ~~~Then speak no ill, but lenient be Sweet words that on the wings of evening fly; T To others' feelings as your own; Kind words that greet the child when he is born; If you're the first a fault to see, If you're the first a fault to see, And loving words that bless us when we die. Be not the first to make it known. _[ozseho/d //'ords.- " Famizizar i4orzds. " For life is but a passing flood; Words are the soul's embassadors, who go No lip can tell how brief the stay: Abroad upon her errands to and fro; Be earnest in the search of good, They are the sole expounders of the mind, And speak of all the best'we may. And correspondence keep'twixt all mankind..Livinz Woards.- " Speak A/b Ill." They are those airy keys that ope (and wrest Sometimes) the locks and hinges of the breast. Thy words had such a melting flow, By them the heart makes sallies: wit and sense And spoke of truth so sweetly well, They dropp'd like heaven's serenest snow, Belong to them: they are the quintessence And all was brightness where they fell! Of those ideas which the thbughts distil, And so calcine and melt again, until. They drop forth into accents; in whom lies To those who know thee not, no words can The salt of fancy, and all faculties. paint; JAMES HOWELL. And those who know thee, know all words are faint. But deep words shall sting thee, HANNAH MORE: Sefaint. HANNAH MORE: Sensibility. That breathe of the past; And many things bring thee Words have wings, and as soon as their cage, Thoughts fated to last; the The fond hopes that center'd Mouth, is open'd, out they fly, and mount beyond In thee are all dead; Our reach and past recovery: like lightning, The iron has enter'd They can't be stopt, but break their passage The soul where they fed. through 684 WORDS. The smallest crannies, and penetrate Here one poor word a hundred clinches makes. Sometimes the thickest walls: their nature's as POPE. Expansive as the light. ROBERT NEVILE: Poor Scholar. In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold, Alike fantastic if too new or old: A word is ringing in my brain: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, It was not meant to give me pain; It a not e to i Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. It had not one to bid it stay POPE. When other things had pass'd away; It had no meaning more than all I have known a word more gentle Which in an idle hour fall; Than the breath of summer air; It was, when first the sound I heard, In a listening heart it nestled, A lightly utter'd, careless word. And it lived forever there. Not the beating of its prison That word-oh! it doth haunt me now, Stirr'd it ever, night or day; In scenes of joy, in scenes of woe; Only with the heart's last throbbing By night, by day, in sun or shade, Could it fade away. With the half smile that gently play'd Reproachfully, and gave the sound Words are mighty, words are living: Eternal power through life to wound. Serpents with their venomous stings, There is no voice I ever heard Or bright angels, crowding round us So deeply fix'd as that one word. With heaven's light upon their wings; MRS. NORTON: Thoe Careless Word. Every word has its own spirit, True or false, that never dies; It was the first, the only one ItOwas these fhirt, te fon r gone Every word man's lips have utter'd Of these which lips forevter gone Echoes in God's skies. Breathed in their love,-which had for me ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: /WordS. Rebuke of harshness at my glee; And if those lips were heard to say, Words are lighter than the cloud-foam " Beloved, let it pass away," Of the restless ocean spray; Ah! then, perchance —but I have heard Vainer than the trembling shadow The last dear tone-the careless word! That the next hour steals away. O ye who, meeting, sigh to part, By the fall of summer rain-drops Whose words are treasures to some heart, Is the air as gently stirr'd; Deal gently, ere the dark days come And the rose-leaf that we tread on When earth hath but for one a home; Will outlive aword. Lest, musing o'er the past, like me,, musingo'rthepas, l e, Yet, on the dull silence breaking They feel their hearts wrung bitterly, With a lightning flash, a word, And, heeding not what else they heard, n Beal-ing endless desolation Dwell weeping on a careless word. MRS. NORTON: Te Celess Word. On its blighting wTings, I heard: MRs. NORTON: The Careless W/ord. Earth can forge no.keener weapon, Some by old words to fame have made pretence; Dealing surer death and pain, Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense. And the cruel echo answer'd POPE. Through long years again. / ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: WTFords. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, I have known one word hang starlike Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found. O'er a dreary waste of years, And it only shone the brighter These equal syllables alone require, Look'd at through a mist of tears; Though oft the ear the open vowels tire, While a weary wanderer gather'd While expletives their feeble aid do join, Hope and heart on life's dark way, And ten lowr words oft creep in one dull line. By its faithful promise shining POPE. Clearer day by day. WORDS. 685 I have known a spirit, calmer The worship the heart lifts above Than the calmest lake, and clear And the heavens reject not,As the heavens that gazed upon it, The desire of the moth for the star, With no wave of hope or fear; Of the night for the morrow, But a storm had swept across it, The devotion to something afar And its deepest depths were stirr'd From the sphere of our sorrow? (Never, never more to slumber), SHELLEY: Only by a word. One /Vord is Too Often Prof/ned. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: //Fords. ADELAIDE A. PRTER: Words. Heaps of huge words uphoarded hideously, What you keep by you, you may change and With horrid sound, through having little sense, mend; They think to be chief praise of poetry; But words once spoke can never be recall'd. And thereby, wanting due intelligence, ROsCOMMON. Have marr'd the face of goodly poesie, And made a monster of their fantasie. Use may revive the obsoletest words, And banish those that now are most in vogue. ROSCOMrMON. Some know no joy like what a word can raise, You gain your point if your industrious art Haul'd through a language's perplexing maze; Caln n make unusual words easy and plain. Till on a mate that seems t' agree they light, RoscoMMON. Like man and wife that still are opposite: Not lawyers at the bar play more with sense, Oh, many a shaft at rindom sent When brought to their last trope of eloquence, Finds mark the archer little peant; Than they on every subject, great or small, Andel many a fword at ralndoim spoken At clubs or councils, at a church or ball; May soothe or wound a heart that's broken. They cry we rob them of their tributes due: SIR WV. SCOTT: LNord of/le Isldes. AAlas! how can we laugh and pity too? I was never so bethump'd with words BENJ. STILLINGFLEET: Since first I call'd my brother's father dad. Essay on Conversation. SHAKSPEARE. Time to me this truth has taught ('Tis a treasure worth revealing), For each true word a blister, and each false More offend >by want of thought Be cauterizing to the root o' th' tongue, Than by any want of feeling. Consuminlg it with speaking. SHAKSPEARE. CHARLES SWAIN. If thou hlast lost a friend One cloth not know By hard or hasty word, How much an ill word doth impoison liking. Go call him to thy heart again; SHARSPEARE. ILet pride no more be heard. How every fool can play upon the word! Remind him of those happy days, SHAKSPEARE. Too beautiful to last; Ask, if a word should cancel years The fool hath planted in his memoryf Of truth and friendship past. An army of good words. SHAIKSPEARFE. Oh! if thou'st lost a friend By hard or hasty word, One word is too often profaned Go call him to thy heart again; For me to profane it, Let pride no more be heard. One feeling too falsely disdain'd For thee to disdain it. Oh! tell him, from thy thought One hope is too like despair The light of joy hath fled; For prudence to smother, That, in thy sad and silent breast, And p eity from thee more dear Thy lonely heart seems dead: Than that from another. Than that from another. That mount and vale, each path ye trod By morn or evening dim, I can give not what men call love; Reproach you with their frowning gaze, But wilt thou accept not And ask your soul for him. 686 WTORDS. 7WORLD. Then, if thou'st lost a friend WORLD. By hard or hasty word,'Tis something for the poor bereaven, Go call him to thy heart again; In such a weary world of care, Let pride no more be heard. To feel that we have friends in heaven: CHARLES SWAIN: Who help'd us here, may aid us there. If Thozu Hast Lost a EFriend. These yearnings for them set our arc As when a soul laments, which hath been blest, Of being widening more and more, Desiring what is mingled with past years, In circling sweep, through outer dark, In yearnings that can never be exprest To-day more perfect than before. By sighs or groans or tears; By sighs or groans or tears; So much was left unsaid, the soul Because all words, though cull'd with choicest Must live in other worlds to be; art, On earth we cannot grasp the whole, Failing to give the bitter of the sweet, For that Love has eternity. Wither beneath the palate, and the heart Love deep as death, and rich as rest, Faints faded by its heat. Love that was love with all Love's might, TENNYSON: Z)ren a of]Pair W/oreln. Level to needs the lowliest, Throughout the world if it were sought, Will not he less love at full height. Fair words enough a man shall find; ASll the Year Rouzzd.' "A Letter inZ Black. They be good cheap, they cost right nought, Their substance is but only wilnd: D:agg'd through the world's rough miry ways, But well to say and so to mean, Despised and scorn'd y all, That sweet accord is seldom seen. Menentoes of its brighter days SIR THOMAS WYATT. Will linger in its fall. The beauty that its Maker gave, What cloud is this that rests upon my spirit? What evil tidings have I this day heard? The feelings pure and high, Can only perish in the grave, Ah, now I know,-and bitterly remember,- And die when it shall die! That angry word! How foolish thus to give a vent to passion! Tis there, in some lone hidden spot, There was no cause,-or one that was ab- Which we pass by in haste: sutrd; IEach heart hath one forget-me-not And yet I fired at once, and thus escaped me Amid its dreary waste. That angry word! However rough, and rude, and dark, That humnan breast may be, The dear one thus offended gazed upon me,- Some eau ty cingeth to its ark, WVould that those ears such sounds had never Like ivy to the tree. heard! All thpe Year Pounzd: ~ Onze Trace Left." What would I give could I recall forever That angry word! " Shut out from heaven, confined to duties low, Toss'd by a restless spirit to and fio, And those kind friends who, in their zeal to Toss'd by a restless spirit to and f please me, Like thee our wings we beat; Qur hopes, like thine, in fickle skies are shrined; Have their own plans and pleasures still Or, turn we to this earth, like thee we find Life's greenest spot a cheat!" Alas, that they should hear from me so often The angry word! Thus spake I, troubled.'Twas an impious Oh, holy Savioul! who wast ever patient, thought, Ob, holy Saviour! who wast ever patient, Born of sick musing, and a mind o'erwrought: By whom I trust my spirit hath been stirr'd, Born of sick musing, and a mind o'erwrought: Teach me to guard my lips, and no more utter True wisdom lieth deeper; The angry woguarld my lips, and no more utterNor bolts nor bars, nor power of human wrong, YITM1eT: Thae Anry Word. Turning life's music to a captive song, Can be the great soul's keeper. Thought in the mind may come forth gold or dross; Away, away to purer fields it flies, When coin'd in words we know its real worth. Where tells no blossom, while it bleeding dies, YOUNG. Of battle's cruel story; WORLD. 687 Where life's true heroes, waking from their rest, The rural parts are turn'd into a den Shall view this earth, as suns the redden'd west Of savage men; From whence they pass'd in glory. And where's a city from foul vice so free But may be term'd the worst of all the three? The weary strife, the beating of the bars, The torn limbs trailing'neath the triumph-cars, Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, The mockery and the moan, Or pains his head; What boots it all to him whose path lies where Those that live single take it for a curse, Some conquering day his soul shall mount the Or do things worse; air Some would have children; those that have Up to a golden throne? them moan, All thle Year Round.- " The Cagaed Lark." Or wish them gone; What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, Straight from the hand of God comes many a, then, to have, or have no wife, But single thraldom, or a double strife? gift, Fraught with healing and with consolation Our own affections still at home to please For a world of toil and tribulation; Is a disease: And yet from which we blindly shrink and To cross the seas to any foreign soil, shift, Peril and toil: As from a burden onerous to lift. WorAs from a burden onerous to lift. o, Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, Work itself, hard, drudging occupation, We are worse in peace: — Comes in shape of blessed dispensation TV~What, then, remains but that we still should cry To those who wisely can perceive the drift For being born, or, being born, to die? Of such a boon t' assuage the pangs of mind, Ascribed to FRANCIS BACON, LORD VERJILAM. Sadness, suspense, anxiety, or worse, (See Spedding's Works of Bacon, vii. 267.) Rankle from wounding words and looks unkind, The world is just as hollow as an egg-shell; The desolation of friends' eyes averse, It is a surface, not a solid, round; Nay, e'en the anguish of a recent loss, And all this boasted knowledge of the world Akin to what was felt beneath the Cross. To me seems but to mean acquaintance with All Ihe Year Round.. Sonnets on GodsenCds. Low things, or evil, or indifferent. O! it is beautiful to see this world, P. J. BAILEY: FestUs. Poised in the crystal air, with all its seas, Is this the world men choose, Mountains, and plains, majestically rolling For which they heaven refuse, Around its noiseless axis, day by day, And Christ and grace abuse? And year by year, and century after century; And not receive it? And as it turns, still wheeling through the im- Shall I not guilty be Of this in some degree, Of ether, circling the resplendent sun If hence God would me free, In calm and simple grandeur. And I'd not leave it? EDWIN ATHERSTONE. My soul, from Sodom fly, The world's a bubble, and the life of Man Lest wrath there find thee; Less than a span; Thy refuge-rest is nigh; In his conception wretched; from the womb Look not behind thee! So to the tomlb' Curst'So to the tomb; There's none of this ado, Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years None of th ish crew;'u~ith cares and fears: None of the hellish crew; With cares and fears: Who, then, to frail mortality shall trust God's promise is most true, But limns on water, or but writes in dust. Boldly believe it. I My friends are gone before, Yet, whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, And I am near the door,What life is best? O Lord, receive it! Courts are but only superficial schoolis It trusts Christ and his.merits, To dandle fools; The dead he raises; 688 WORL D. Join it with blessed spirits, Still the green soil with joyous living things Who sing thy praises. Swarms, the wide air is full of joyous wings, RICHARD BAXTER: The Valediction. And myriads still are happy in the sleep Of Ocean's azure gulfs. The world's a lab'rinth, where unguided men Walk up and down to find their weariness: B No sooner have we measured with much toil The world's a wood in which all lose their way, One crooked path, in hope to gain our freedom, Though by a different path each goes astray. But it betrays us to a new affliction. DUKE OF BUCXKINGHAM. BEAUMONT: Aig/ht- Walker. There's no such thing in nature, and you'll You think, no doubt, he sits and muses On future broken bones and bruises A faultless monster which the world ne'er saw. On future broken bones and Bruises DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM: Essay oJ Poetiy. If he should chance to fall;E O Poety No, not a single thought like that Should once the world resolve t' abolish Employs his philosophic pate, All that's ridiculous and foolish, Or troubles it at all. It would have nothing left to do, T' apply in jest or earnest to, He sees that this great roundabout, No business of importance, play, No business of importance, play, The world, with all its motley rout, Or state, to pass the time away. Church, army, physic, law,. Its customs and its businesses, Are no concern at all of his, There was an ancient sage philosopher Arend says-what saysof he? "CaThat had read Alexander Ross over, And says-what says he? " Caw." And swore the world, as he could prove, Thrice happy bird! I too have seen Was made of fighting and of love. BUTLER: Hindibras. Much of the vanities of men, And, sick of having seen'em, Beautiful Would cheerfully these limbs resign How beautiful is all this visible world! For such a pair of wings as thine, How glorious in its action and itself! And such a head between'em. But we who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, VINCENT BOURNE: Half dust, half deity, alike unfit Qn thie 7ackdaw.' tr-anslated by COWPER. To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe So he that saileth in this world of pleasure, The breath of degradation and of pride, Feeding on sweets, that never bit of th' Contending with low wants and lofty will, sowre, ~~~~~~sowre, ~Till our mortality predominates, That's full of friends, of honour, and of m treasure,And men are-what they name not to themtreasure, Fond fool! he takes this world ev'n for selves, And trust not to each other. heav'in's bower: BYRON. But sad affliction comes, and makes him see Here's neither honour, wealth, nor safety: Shut up the world at large, let Bedlam out; Only above is found all with security. And you will be perhaps surprised'to find ANNE BRADSTREET: Cozntenplation s. All things pursue exactly the same route As now with those of soi-disant sound mind. The world goes whispering to its own, This I could prove beyond a single doubt, This anguish pierces to the bone; Were there a jot of sense among mankind; And tender friends go sighing round, But till that point d'appui is found, alas! "What love can ever cure this wound?" Like Archimedes, I leave earth as'twas. My days go on, my days go on. BYRON. MRS. E. B. BROWNING: De Profundis. I have not loved the world, nor the world me; Lookl on this beautiful world, and read the truth I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow:d In her fair page; see, every season brings To its idolatries a patient knee, New change to her, of everlasting youth; Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles, nor cried aloud WORLD. 689 In worship of an echo: in the crowd Those who look on Mortality's ocean aright They could not deem me one of such; I stood Will not mourn o'er each billow that rolls, Amlong them, but not of them;* in a shroud But dwell on the beauties, the glories, the might, Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and As much as the shipwrecks and shoals. still could, EI.1ZA COOK: The World. Had I not'filed my mind, which thus itself sub- The world's esteem is but a bribe: dued. To buy their peace you sell your own; The slave of a vainiglorious tribe, I have not loved the world, nor the world me,-e Who hate you while they make you known. But let us part fair foes: I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may The joy that vain amusements give, be Oh! sad conclusion that it brings! Words which are things, hopes which will not The honey of a crowded hive, deceive, Defended by a thousand stings. And virtues which are merciful, ncr weave Snares for the failing: I would also deem'Tis thus the world rewards the fools O'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; That live upon her treacherous smiles: That two, or one, are almost what they seem, She leads them blindfold by her rules, That goodness is no name, and happiness no And ruins all whom she beguiles. dream. COWPER: Olney Hymnzs. BYRON: Childe Harold. Blinded in youth by Satan's arts, The world no longer wears the same gay seem- The world to our unpractised hearts ing A flattering prospect shows; That shone around it once in life's first years; Our fancy forms a thousand schemes And we have learn'd to mock its idle dream- Of gay delights, and golden dreams, ing, And undisturb'd repose. And bathe its brightest hopes with bitter tears. Oh, dreary is that first most sad awaking So in the desert's dreary waste, From the sweet confidence of early truth, magic power produced in haste To find Hope's rosy glass, in fragments break- (As ancient fables say), inkg, Castles, and groves, and music sweet, Reflect no more the visions of our youth! The senses of the traveller meet, CAROLINE H. CHANDLER: To MiyBrotzer. And stop him in his way. What is the world? A term which men have But while he listens with surprise, The charm dissolves, the vision dies; got,'Twas but enchanted ground To signify not one in ten knows what;'Tw but e te groun: A term which with no more precision passes Thus, if the Lord our spirit touch, To point out herds of men than herds of asses The world, which promised us so much, A wilderness is found. In common use no more it means, we find, Thaln many fools in same opinion join'c. At first we start, and feel distress'd, CtURCHILL'. Convinced we never can have rest Talk who will of the world as a desert of thrall, In such a wretched place Yet, yet there is bloom on the waste; But He whose mercy breaks the charm Though the chalice of Life hath its acid and Reveals his own almighty arm, gall, And bids us seek his face. There are honey-drops, too, for the taste. Then we begin to live indeed, We murmur and droop should a sorrow cloud When, from our sin and bondage freed stay, By this beloved Friend, And note all the shades of our lot; We follow him from day fo day, But the rich rays of sunshine that brighten our Assured of grace through all the way, way And glory at the end. Are bask'd in, enjoy'd, and forgot. COWPER: The Enc/angment Dissolved. 44 690 WORLD.,Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, The world is a great dance, in which we find To peep at such a world; to see the stir The good and bad have various turns assign'd; Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; But when they've ended the great masquerade, To hear the roar she sends through all her gates One goes to glory, th' other to a shade. At a safe distance, where the dying sound JOHN CROWNE: 7uliana. Falls, a soft murmur, through the injured air. COWPER. Oh, cursed, troubled world! Let the world be told W. here nothing without sorrow can be had, She boasts a confidence she does not hold; And'tis not easy to be good nor bad That, conscious of her crimes, she feels instead For horror attends evil, sorrow good, A cold misgiving and a killing dread; Vice plagues the mind, and virtue flesh and blood. That while in health the ground of her support blood. JOHN CROWNE: 29carius. Is madly to forget that life is short;'That sick she trembles, knowing she must die,'Tis the most certain sign the world's accurst Her hope presumption, and her faith a lie. That the best things corrupted are the worst. COWPER. DENHAM.'To'them the deep recess of shady groves, The world contains,Or forest where the deer securely roves, Or forest where the deer securely roves, Princes for arms, and counsellors for brains, The fall of waters, and the song of birds, The fall of waters, and the song of birds, Lawyers for tongues, divines for hearts, and And hills that echo to the distant herds, Are luxuries excelling all the glare ore, The rich for stomachs, and for backs the poor; The world can boast, and her chief favourites The officers'for hands, merchants for feet, share. COWPER: Retirement. By which remote and distant countries meet. DONNE.'Whence has this world her magic power? Why deem we death a foe, Who to the full thy vileness, world, e'er told? Recoil from weary life's best hour, What is in thee that's not extremely ill? And covet longer woe? A loathsome shop where poison's only sold, The cause is Conscience! Conscience off' Whose very entrance instantly doth kill: IHer tale of guilt relnews; Nothing in thee but villany doth dwell,'Her voice is terrible, though soft, And all thy ways lead headlong unto hell. And dread of cdeath ensues.' DRAYTON: Legend of Piers of Gaveston.'Then, anxious to be longer spared, Old Rome from such a race derived her birth, Man mourns his flying breath; Which now on seven high hills triumphant All evils then seem light, compared reigns, With the approach of death. And in that compass all the world contains.'The judgment shakes him! there's the fear DRYDEN. That prompts the wish to stay! This wavering world's wretchedness, He has incurr'd a long arrear, The failing and fruitless business, And must despair to pay. The misspent time, the service vain, Pay — follow Christ, and all is paid; For to consider is ane pain. His death your peace ensures; His death your peace ensures; The sliding joy, the gladness short, Think on the grave where he was laid, The feigned love, the false comfort, The feigned love, the false comfort, And calm descend to yours. The sweir abade, the slightful train, COWPER: For to consider is ane pain. Suzbjoined to the Yearly Bill of MVortality, I792. Ah, world unknown! how charming is thy The sluggard mouths, with minds therefra, view, The figured speech, with faces tway, Thy pleasures many, and each pleasure new! The pleasing tongues, with hearts unplain, Ah, world experiended! what of thee is told? For to consider is ane pain. How few thy pleasures, and those few how old! WIIAM DUNBAR: CRABBE: Borough:. Schools. Vanity of Earthly Things. WORLD. 691 This world is far too small a page, To upstart Wealth's averted eye; Almighty God! to write thy praise; To supple Office, low and high; And far too short its transient age, To crowded halls, to court and street; Thou Ancient of eternal days! To frozen hearts and hasting feet; Yet, oh! how lovely and how fair, To those who go, and those who come: How mighty and sublime, are these, I Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home. From the sweet rose in summer air, I'm going to my own hearth-stone, To Alps, and storms, and winter seas! Bosom'd in yon green hills alone,In streams, or meads, or hills, or dells, A secret nook in a pleasant land, Or waving groves, or gardens' bloom, Whose groves the frolic fairies plann'd; All hung with Music's magic bells, Where arches green, the livelong day, And incensed all with rich perfume; Echo the blackbird's roundelay, And all the varied world of life, And vulgar feet have never trod,Throughout its many thousand forms, A spot that is sacred to thought and God. With gushing joy, with feeling rife, Which beauty lights and passion warms. Oh, when I am safe in my sylvn home, I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome; And when deep Science delves and seeks, And when deep Science delves and seeks, And when I am stretch'd beneath the pines, And when high genius wings and soars, Where the evening star so holy shines, And angel-gifted language speaks, And aelift a e, I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, And fervent piety adores; e wondfrvn pletyaorersAt the sophist schools, and the learned clan; The wondrous whole thy powers proclaim, For what are they all, in their high conceit, But infinite and vast thy ways! When man in the bush with God may meet! Time is too short to tell thy name, R. W. EMERSON: Good-Bye, Pr oud WorlAd. And earth too small to write thy praise. JAMES EDMESTON. Of airy pomp, and fleeting joys, What does the busy world conclude at best, Earthly things do fade, decay,, But brittle goods, that break like glass? Constant to us not one day: GRANVILLE. GRANVILLE. Suddenly they pass away, And we cannot make them stay. Let him that will, ascend the tottering seat All the vast world doth contain Of courtly grandeur, and become as great To content man's heart are vain, As are his mounting wishes: as for me, That still justly will complain, Let sweet repose and rest my portion be; And unsatisfied remain. Give me some mean obscure recess, a sphere Out of the road of business, or the fear God most holy, high, and great, Godmostholy, high, and great, Of falling lower; where I sweetly may Our delight doth malke complete: NMyself and dear retirement still enjoy: When in us he takes his seat, Let not my life or name be known unto Only then we are replete. The grandees of the time, tost to and fro Why should vain joys us transport? By censures or applause; but let my age Earthly pleasures are but short, Slide gently by; not overthwlart the stage And are mingled in such sort, Of public action; unheard, unseen, Griefs are greater than the sport. And unconcern'd, as if I ne'er had been; PRINCESS ELIZABETH (Queen of Bohemia). And thus, while I shall pass my silent days In shady privacy, free from the noise Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home: Good-e, proum worlnd! d I'm goig thome: And bustles of the mad world, then shall I Thou'rt not my friend, and I'm not thine. A good old innocent plebeian die. Long through thy weary crowds I roam; Death is a mere surprise, a very snare i river-ark on the ocean's brine, A river-ark on the ocean's brine, To him that makes it his life's greatest care Long I've been toss'd like the driven foam; To be a public pageant; known to all, But now, proud world! I'm going home.,But unacquainted with himself, doth fall. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; SIR MATTHEW HALE: To Grandeur, with his wise grimace; Paraphrase fSom Seneca, 692 ],ORLD. The world is bright before thee; Glad childhood needs the lore of time Its summer flowers are thine; To show the phantom overhead; Its calm blue sky is o'er thee, But where the breast, before its prime, Thy bosom pleasure's shrine; That carrieth not its dead,And thine the sunbeams given The moon that looketh on whose home To nature's morning hour, In all its circuit sees no tomb? Pure, warm, as when from heaven T. K. HERVEY: fIomes and Graves. It burst on Eden's bower. God's world is bathed in beauty, There is a song of sorrow, IThereisasonge of sorrowy, God's world is steep'd in light; The death-dirge of the gay, It is the self-same gloy That tells, ere dawn of morrow That tells, ere dawn of morrow That makes the day so bright, These charms may melt away, — These c s m me sa, Which thrills the earth with music, That sun's bright beam be shaded, Or hangs the stars in night. That sky be blue no more, The soummer flowers be fpadede, Hid in earth's mines of silver, And youth's warm promise o'er. Floating on clouds above, Believe it not: though lonely Ringing in autumn's tempest, Thy evening hour may be, Murmur'd by every dove, Though beauty's bark can only One thought fills God's creationFloat on a summer sea, His own great name of Love! Though Time thy bloom is stealing, There's still beyond his art In God's world strength is lovely, The wild-flower wreath of feeling, And so is beauty strong, The sunbeam of the heart. And light-God's glorious shadowFITZ-GREENE HALLECK: To both great gifts belong; The IWorld is Briz'hl/ Before Thee. And they all meet in sweetness, And fill the earth with song. Leave behind earth's empty pleasure, Fleeting hope, and changeful love; God's world has one great echo, God's world has one great echo, Leave its soon-colrodling treasure: Whether calm blue mists are curl'd, There are better things above. Or lingering dewdrops quiver, Leave, ah, leave thy fond aspirings, Or red storms are unfurl'd: Bid thy restless heart be still; The same deep love is throbbing Cease, oh, cease thy vain desirings, Though the great heart of God's world. Only seek thy Father's will. Household Words. Leave behind thy faithless sorrow hinI mourn that this world changes not; that still And thine every anxious care: Its beauty and its sorrows are the same; He who only ktnows the morrow Ever the torrent seems to wear the hill, Call for thee its burden bear. And the sun dries the torrent. But I cameFRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL: The hill was there, nor was the torrent tame, " Thze T2hinzcs zwhzich are Behind." But, sparkling cooler down the mountain-side, This bitter world, For that it scorn'cl the great sun's thirsty This cold unanswering world, that hath no voice flame, To greet the gentle spirit, that drives back Its eager task continually it plied, All birds of Eden, which would sojourn here While swell'd the lofty hill in unabated pride. A little while,-how have I turn'd away SARAH S. JACOBS: From its keen soulless air! The'Changeless World. MRS. HEMANS. How beautiful a world were ours, False world, good-night, since thou hast brought But for the pale and shadowy One That hour upon my morn of age; That treadeth on its pleasant flowers Henceforth I quit thee from my thought, And stalketh in its sun! My part is ended on thy stage. WtORID. 693 Do not once hope that thou canst tempt Alas! thy sorrows fall so fast, A spirit so resolved to tread Our happiest hour is when at last Upon thy throat, and live exempt The soul is freed. From all the nets that thou canst spread. Our days are cover'd o'er with grief, I know thy forms are studied arts, And sorrows neither few nor brief Thy subtil ways be narrow straits; Veil all in gloom; Thy courtesy but sudden starts, Left desolate of real good, And what thou call'st thy gifts are baits. Within this cheerless solitude No pleasures bloom. I know too, though thou strut and paint, Yet art thou but shrunk up and old; Thy pilgrimage begins in tears, That only fools make thee a saint, And ends in bitter doubts and fears, And all thy good is to be sold. Or dark despair; BEN JONSON: Midway so many toils appear, A iarewell for a Gentlewoman, Virtuous and That he who lingers longest here Noble. Knows most of care. Who will say the world is dying? Thy goods are bought with many a groan, Who will say our prime is past? By the hot sweat of toil alone, Sparks from heaven within us lying And weary hearts; Flash, and will flash to the last. Fleet-footed is the approach of woe, Fools! who fancy Christ mistaken; But with a lingering step and slow Man a tool to buy and sell; Its form departs. Earth a failure, God-forsaken, Co(pas de Jfanrique. ]From the Spanish, Ante-room of hell. by H. W. LONGFELLOW. Still the race of hero spirits Alas! the world is full of peril! Pass the lamp from hand to hand; The path that runs through the fairest meads, Age from age the'ords inherits,- On the sunniest side of the valley, leads Wife and child and fatherland. Into a region bleak and sterile! Still the youthful hunter gathers LONGFELLOW: Golden Legend. Fiery joy from wold and wood; He will dare as dared his fathers, Lo! the world is rich in blessings,Give him cause as good. Earth and Ocean, Flame and Wind, Have unnumber'd secrets still, While a slave bewails his fetters; To be ransacked when yot will, While an orphan pleads in vain; For the service of mankind; While an infant lisps his letters, Science is a child as yet Heir of all the ages' gain; WbHeir of all the ages' gainsi;ng;And her. power and scope shall grow, While a lip grows ripe for kissing; And her triumps i the future While a moan from man is wrung; Shall diminish toil and voe, — Know, by every want and blessing, Shall extend the bounds of pleasure Shall extend the bounds of pleasure CThat the world is young. With an ever-widening ken, CHARLES IKINGSLEY: ThZe Worl'd's Age. And of woods and wildernesses This world is but the rugged road Make the homes of happy men. Which leads us to the bright abode CHARLES MACKAY: Th7ef Preachers. Of peace above: In this world of sin and sorrow/ So let us choose the narrow way Compass'd round with manja care, Which leads no traveller astray From eternity we borrow From realms of love. LONGFELLOW. Hope that can exclude despair. Thee, triumphant God and Saviour, O World! so few the years we live, In the glass of faith we see: Would that the life which thou dost give Oh, assist each faint endeavour, Were life indeed! Raise our earth-born souls to Thee. 694 WORLDo. Place that awful scene before us It whispers in the leaves of trees, Of the last tremendous day, The swelling grain, the waving grass, When to life Thou shalt restore us: And in the cool, fresh evening breeze Lingering ages, haste away! That crisps the wavelets as they pass. Then this vile and sinful nature GEORGE P. MORRIS: Poetry. Incorruption shall put on;'Tis a very good world that we live in Life-renewing, glorious Saviotur, ITo lend, or to spend, or to give in; Let thy gracious will be done. But to borrow or beg, or get a man's own, MRS. JUDITII MADAN: Funeral Hymn.'Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was And, indeed, her chief fault was this uncon- known. scious scorn Old Song. But still as long as we Of the world, to whose usages woman is born. In this low world remain, Not the world, where that word implies all Mishaps, our daily mutes, human nature, Our lives do entertain The Creator's great gift to the needs of the And woes w And woes which bear no dates creature: Still perch upon our heads; That large heart, with its sorrow to solace, its None go, but still will be care Some greater in their steads. To assuage, and its grand aspirations to share; But the world, with encroachments that chafe Nature made us not free and perplex, When first she made us live; With its man against man, and its sex against When we began to be, sex. To be began our woe; OWEN MEREDITH: Lzucile. Which growing evermore, So shall the world go on, As dying life doth grow, To good malignant, to bad men benign. Do more and more us grieve, MILTON. And tire us more and more. MARY, COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE: This world is all a fleeting show,, COUNTESS OF PEMB Any C/zorus from the Tr'agedy of Antony. For man's illusion given; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, There's no such thing as pleasure here; Deceitful shine, deceitful flow:'Tis all a perfect cheat, There's nothing true but Heaven. Which does but shine and disappear, MOORE. MOORE. hose charm is but deceit: And-worldly is that heart, at best, The empty bribe of yielding souls, That beats beneath a broider'd veil; Which first betrays, and then controls. And she who comes in glittering vest'Tis true, it looks at distance fair; To mourn her frailty-still is frail. MOORE. But if we do approach, The fruit of Sodom will impair Oh, could we do with this world of ours And perish at a touch; As thou dost with thy garden bowers, It being then in fancy less, Reject the weeds and keep the flowers, And we expect more than possess. What a heaven on earth we'd make it! KATHARINE PHILIPS: So bright a dwelling should be our own, Ode against Pleasure. So warranted free from sigh or frown, Thou scorner of all cities! Thou dost leave,That angels soon would be coming down, The world's turmoil and never-ceasing din, By the week or month to take it. By there one from others no existence weaves, MOORE: Where the old sighs, the young turns gray and Oh, Could We Do wuit/ t/his World of Ours., To me the world's an open book Where misery gnaws the maiden's heart Of sweet and pleasant poetry; within; I read it in the running brook And thou dost flee into the broad, green woods, That sings its way towards the sea, And with thy soul of music thou dost win [VOR2LD. 695 Their heart to harmony,-no jar intrudes Ere this false world shall still thy stormy breast Upon thy sounding melody. Oh, where, With smooth-faced calms of rest. Amid the sweet musicians of the air, Thou mayst as well expect meridian light Is one so dear as thee to these old solitudes? From shades of black-mouth'd night, ALBERT PIKE: TO the Mockinfg-Bird. As in this empty world to find a full delight. You, carrying with you all the world can boast, FRANCIS QUARLES: The Wad. To all the world illustriously are lost. False world, thou ly'st: thou canst not lend POPE. The least delight: See how the world its veterans rewards! Thy favours cannot gain a friend, A youth of frolics, an old age of cards; They are so slight: Fair to no purpose, artful to no end; Thy morning pleasures make an end Young without lovers, old without a friend; To please at night: A fop their passion, but their prize a sot; Poor are the wants that thou supplyst, Alive, ridiculous; and dea~d, forgot! And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vy'st POPE: Mlonal Essays. With heaven: fond earth, thou boasts; false world, thou ly'st. Man's world is Pain and Terror; He found it pure'and fair, Thy babbling tongue tells golden tales And wove in nets of sorrow Of endless treasure; The golden summer air. Thy bounty offers easy sales Black, hideous, cold, and dreary, Of lasting pleasure; Man's curse, not God's, is there. Thou ask'st the conscience what she ails, And swear'st to ease her: And yet God's world is speaking: There's none can want where thou supply'st: Man will. not hear it call, a wileno hear ith ec, There's none can give where thou deny'st: But listens wvhere the echoes Alas! fond world, thou boasts; false world, thou Of his own discords fall, ly'st. Then clamours back to Heaveny FRANCIS QUARLES. That God has done it all. Where solid pains succeed our senseless joys, ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: TWO Wrorlads. And short-lived pleasures pass like fleeting The world's a hive, dreams. From whence thou canst derive.ROCHESTER: ValentiniaZn. No good, but what thy soul's vexation brings: The world's a stormy sea, But case thou meet Whose every breath is strew'd with wrecks of Some petty, petty sweet, wretches Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings. That daily perish in it. FRANCIS QUARLES. ROWE: Amlbitious Stepmot/er. She's empty: hark: she sounds: there's nothing Who knows the joys of friendship, there The trust, security, and mutual tenderness, But noise to fill thy ear; The double joys where each is glad for both,Thy vain inquiry call at length but find Friendship, our only wealth, our last retreat and A blast of murmuring wind: strength It is a cask that seems as full as fair, Secure against ill fortune and the world? But merely tunn'd with air. ROWE. Fond youth, go build thy hopes on better A youth would marry a maiden, grounds: For fair and fond was she; The soul that vainly founds But she was rich, and he was poor, Her joys upon this world but feeds on empty And so it might not be. sounds. ~ A lady never could wearShe's empty: hark! she sounds: there's nothing Her mother held it firmin't; A gown that came of an Indian plant The spark-engendering flint Instead of an Indian worm! Shall sooner melt, and hardest raunce shall first And so the cruel word was spoken; Dissolve and quelch thy thirst, And so it was two hearts were broken. 696 WORLD. A youth would marry a maiden, All the world by Thee at first was made, For fair and fond was she; And daily yet Thou dost the same repair; But he was high, and she was low, Nor ought on earth that merry is and glad, And so it might not be. Nor ought on earth that lovely is and fair, A man who had worn a spur, But Thou the same for pleasure didst prepare. In ancient battle won, SPENSER. Had sent it down with great renown, I beheld this fickle trustless state To goad his futu'e son ~ Of vain world's glory flirting to and fro. And so the cruel word was spoken; SPENSER. And so it was two hearts were broken. J. G. SAXE: WZay of the World. The girl might pass, if we could get her To know the world a little better; All the world's a stage, "To know the world!"-a modern phrase And all the men and women merely players: o t For visits, ombre, balls, and plays. They have their exits and their entrances; SWIFT. And one man in his time plays many parts. A a t SHAnSypAREt. Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into SHAKSPEARE/ the younger day: Go with speed TGo with speed hermitage Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Remote from all the pleasures of the world. TENNYSON. SHAKSPEARE. He cannot: be a perfect man, *SHAKSPEARE. For beauty in this world of ours, Not being tried and tutor'd in the world. For verdant grass and lovely flowers, For song of birds, for hum of bees, For the refreshing summer breeze, Thou see'st, we are not all alone unhappy: For ill and plain, for streams an wood, This wide and universal theatre TFor the great ocean's mighty flood,Presents more woeful pageants than the scene In everything give thanks Wherein we play in. SHAKSPEARE. For the sweet sleep which comes with night, You have too much respect upon the world: For the returning morning's light, They lose it that do bu' it -with much care. For the bright sun that shines on high, SHAIRSPEARE. For the stars glittering in the sky,For these, and everything we see, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, O Lord our hearts we lift to Thee: The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, ELLN ISABELLE TPPER: Tankf ELLIN ISABELLE TUPPER: Chankfthizess. And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. Serve God before the world; let tHim not go SHAKSPEARE. Until thou hast a blessing; then resign I do fear the world The whole unto Him, and remember who Hath tired you, and you seek a cell to rest in, Prevail'd by wrestling ere the sun did shine; As birds that wing it o'er the sea-sick ships Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, Till'they get breath, and then they fly away. Then journey on, and have an eye to Heav'n. SHIRLEY. HENRY VAUGHAN: But our desires' tyrannical extortion Early Risinz and Prayer. Doth force us there to set our chief delightfulWhen the world's up, and every swarm abroad, ness,.Keep well thy temper, mix not with each fray; Where but a baiting-place is all our portion. Despatch necessities; life hath a load SIR P. SIDNEY. Which must be carried on, and safely may; Let that man with better sense advise Yet t eep those cares without thee: let the That of the world least part to us is read, heart And daily how, through hardy enterprise, Be God's alone, and choose the better part. Many great regions are discovered. HENRY VAUGHAN: SPENSER.. Early Rising' and Prayer. WORLD. 697 The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be So calm are we when passions are no more. A pagan suckled in a creed outworn, For then we know how vain it was to boast So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Of fleeting things too certain to be lost. Have glimpses that would make me less forClouds of affection from our younger eyes lorn, Conceal that emptiness which age descries; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. Lets in new light through chinks that time has WORDSWORTH: made: Tze W[orld is Too Afletch Wit/z Us. Stronger by weakness, Nwiser, men become Would the world now adopt me for her heir; As they draw near to their eternal home: ~iiWould beauty's queen entitle me " The fair;" Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view Fame speak me Fortane's minion; could I vie That stand upon the threshold of the new. Angels with India; with a speaking eye WALLER: Old Age and Death. Command bare heads, bow'd knees, strike jusWhen God the new-made world survey'd, tice dumb, His word pronounced the building good; As well as blind and lame, or give a tongue Sunbeams and light the heav'ns array'd, To stones by epitaphs; be call'd Great Master And the whole earth was crown'd with food. In the loose rhymes of every poetaster; Could I be more than any man that lives, Colours that charm and ease the eye, Great, fair, rich, wise, all in superlatives, His pencil spread all nature round; Yet I more freely would these gifts resign With pleasing blue he arch'd the sky, Than ever Fortune should have made them And a green carpet dress'd the ground. mine, And hold one minute of this holy leisure Let envious atheists ne'er complain Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure. That nature wants or skill or care; SIR HENRY WOTTON. But turn their eyes all round in vain, T' avoid their Maker's goodness there. The wearisome, lone, and monotonous lot, DR. ISAAC WATTS: Mfiscell. 77zoughts. Where To-day's as the day that is gone, Where To-morrow brings nothing To-day has No good of worth sublime will heaven permit not, To light on man as from the passing air; Nor evening the hopes of the morn,The lamp of genius, though by nature lit, Oh, even here, in the loneliest hours, If not protected, pruned, and fed with care, Are there lying some fair but neglected flowers. Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare; CHARLOTTE YOUNG: Eveiy-Day Heraoes. And learning is a plant that spreads and towers Slow as Columbia's aloe, proudly rare, Through all the changes of unnumber'd years That'mid gay thousands, with-the suns and I've roll'd around the life-bestowing sun; Yet still each season fiesh and bright appears Of half a century, grows alone before it flowers. As when my onward course was first begun CARLOS WILCOX: Cuzrefor Melancholy. Spring with its new-born beauty does not shun, When the fretful stir Awakening as of old the sleeping earth; Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, And Summer in its brightness loseth none Have hung upon the beatings of my heart. Of all its early loveliness and worth, WORDSWORTH. Still blooms the flower, and glows the ripen'd The world is too much with us: late and soon, fruit, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; And through the ground the tender leaflets shoot. Little we see in nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away,-a sordid boon! And yet, alas! I long have been misnamed This sea that bares her bosom to the moon, A desert wilderness,-a worthless clod; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And man, vain man, is not a whit ashamed And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers,- Thus to abuse the bounty of his God, For this, for every thing, we are out of tune: And say that, till he rests beneath the sod, 698 WORZD.- WOR TH. There's nothing worthy of his noble thought, Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends: But, day by day, he still must toil and plod, Hath he not always treasures, always friends, And seek, but never find the object sought; The good great man? Three treasures,-Love, And me he calls a waste, a fleeting show,- and Light, A dismal charnel-house for man below. And calm Thoughts, regular as infant's breath; CHARLOTTE YOUNG: T,,e World's Coml,.aint. And three firm friends, more sure than day or The world, where lucky throws to blockheads night,fall; Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. Knaves know the game, and honest men pay all! S. T. COLERIDGE. YOUNG. There is a joy in worth, A world where lust of pleasure, grandeur, gold, A high, mysterious, soul-pervading charm, Three demons that divide its realms between Which, never daunted, ever bright and warm, them, Mocks at the idle, shadowy ills of earth, With strokes alternate buffet to and fro Amid -the gloom is bright, and tranquil in the Man's restless heart, their sport, their flying ball, storm. Till, with the giddy circle sick and tired, It asls, it needs no aid; It pants for peace, and drops into despair. It makes the proud and lofty soul its throne YOUNG: NVight ~Thougitps. There, in its self-created heaven, alone, The world's infectious: few bring back at eve No fear to shake, no memory to upbraid, Immaculate the manners of the morn. It sits a lesser God,-life, life is all its own! Something we thought, is blotted; we resolved, The Stoic was not wrong: Is shaken; we renounced, returns again. There is no evil to the virtuous brave; YOUPNIG: NighzZti TIhou6z hts. Or in the battle's rift, or on the wave, What is this world! Thy school, 0 misery! Worshipp'd or scorn'd, alone or mid the throng, Our only lesson is to learn to suffer; He is himself-a man! not life's nor fortune's And he who knows not that was born for no- slave. thing. Power, and wealth, and fame, YEOUNG:'Revefnge. Are but as weeds upon life's troubled tide:. Give me but these,-a spirit tempest-tried, A brow unshrinking, and a soul of flame, VVORTH. The joy of conscious worth, its courage and Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of its pride! which ROBERT T. CONRAD: Pride of Worthi/. Men are and ought to be accountable. We see, though orer'd for the best, Grant this, we pray Thee, that all they who read Permitted laurels grace the lawless brow, Or utter noble thoughts may make them theirs, Th' unworthy raised, the worthy cast below. And thank God for them, to the betterment DRYDEN. Of their succeeding life. PHILIP JAMES BAILEY: FestUs. My suff'rings for you make your heart my due: Be worthy me, as I am worthy you. Firm and resolved by sterling worth to gain DRYDEN. Love and respect, thou shalt not strive in vain. Oh that simplicity ad iocece SIR 5. E. BRYDGES. Oh that simplicity and innocence Its own unvalued work so seldom knows! Then let us pray that come it may, GOETHE: Translated by SHELLEY. As come it will, for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, Nor are we ignorant how noble minds Suffer too much through those indignities MFor a' thathe gr, and a' that, Which times and vicious persons cast on them. It's cohaing yet, and a' that, Ourself have ever vowed to esteem That man to man, the warld o'er, As virtue for itself, so fortune, base; Shall brothers be, for a' that. Shall brothers be, for a' that. Who's first in worth, the same be first in place. BURNS. BEN JONSON'. WOR TH.- WR WRONG. 699 Oh! wouldst thou set thy rank before thyself? WRONG. Wouldst thou be honour'd for thyself or that? And if we do but watch the hour, Rank that excels the wearer doth degrade, There never yet was human power Riches impoverish that divide respect: Which could evade, if unforgiven, Oh, to be cherish'd for one's self alone! The patient search and vigil long To owe the love which cleaves to us to nought Of him who treasures up a wrong. Which fortune's summer-winter-gives or BYRON: Alazep a. takes! takes! J. SHERIDAN KNOWLES. A noble heart doth teach a virtuous scorn: To scorn to owe a duty overlong; Honour and shame from no concdition rise; To scorn to e for enefits foone; Act well your part, there all the honour lies. To scorn to lie, to scorn to do a wrong; Fortune in men has some small difference made, To scorn to bear an injury in mind; One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade; To scorn a free-born heart slavelike to bind. The cobbler aLpron'ld, and the palson gown'd, The coler apron, and the parson gown'd, But if for wrongs we needs revenge must have, The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd. Then be our vengeance of the noblest kind; "What differs more," you cry, "than crown D w an, cowl?", Do we his body from our fury save, And let our hate prevail against our mind? I'll tell you, friend!-a wise man and a fool. What can'gainst him a greater vengeance be, You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Than make his foe more worthy far than he? Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk, LADY ELIZABETH CAREW: Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow;,Revenz'e of fnjzlries. The rest is all but leather and prunella. ries. POPE. Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,Some boundless contiguity of shade, What can ennoble fools, and sots, and cowards? Where rumour of oppression and deceit Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards. Might never reach me more! My ear is pain'd, POPE~ My soul is sick, with every day's report I know the gentleman Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill'd. To be of worth and worthy estimation, COWPER. And not without desert so well reputed. They ever do pretend SHAKSPEARE. To have received a wrong, who wrong intend. I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth DANIEL. From courtly friends with camping foes to live, Wrongs do not leave off there where they begin, Where death and danger dog the heels of worth. But still beget new mischiefs in their course. SHAKSPEARE. DANIEL. 0, how thy worth with manners may I sing, Alas! how bitter are the wrongs of love! When thou art all the better part of me? Life has no other sorrow so acute; What can mine own praise to mine own self For love is made of every fine emotion, bring? Of generous impulses and noble thoughts; And what is't but mine own, when I praise It looketh to the stars, and dreams of heaven; thee? It nestles'mid the flowers, and sweetens earth. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet XXXIX. Love is aspiring, yet is humble too; The worth of all men by their end-esteem, It doth exalt another o'er itself, And then due praise, or due reproach, them With sweet heart-homage, which delights to yield. raise SPENSER. That which it worships, yet is fain to win Beauties that from worth arise The idol to its lone and lowly home Are like the grace of deities, Of deep affection.'Tis an utter wreck Still present with us, though unsighted. When such hopes perish. From that moment, SIR J. SUCKLING. life I know transplanted human worth Has in its depths a well of bitterness Will bloom to profit otherwhere. For which there is no healing. TENNYSON. L. E. LANDON: T/he Wrolngs of Love. 700 WR ONG.- YO UTH. Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on You may stretch your hands out towards me,the throne. Ah! you will-I know not when:J. R. LOWELL. Present Crisis. I shall nurse my love and keep it Faithfully for you till then. I see the right, and I approve it too, ADEIAIE A. PROCTER: Fitetis. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER: Fidelis. Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue. OVID. Then old age and experience, hand in hand, OVID. Lead him to death and make him understand, When people once are in the wrong, After a search so painful and so long, Each line they add is much too long; That all his life he has been in the wrong. Who farthest walks, but walks astray, ROCHESTER: Epistle to Edward araozrd. Is only farthest from his way. PRIOR. To persist In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong, It will lie. No eyes may see it:t much more heavy. But makes it much more heavy. In my soul it will lie deep, SHAKSPEARE. Hidden fiom all; yet I shall feel it Often stirring in its sleep. Be it my wrong you are from me exempt; So remember that the friendship' i But wrong not that wrong with a mere conWhich you now think poor and vain tempt. SHAKSPEARE. Will endure in hope and patience Till you ask for it again. It often falls in course of common life That right long time is overborne of wrong, Perhaps in some long twilight hour, Through avarice, or power, or guile, or strife, Like those we have known of old, Which weakens that, and makes this power When past shadows gather round you, strong. And your present friends grow cold, SPENSER. YOUTH. Oh, time was young, and life was warm, The, stars shall fade a~wa;y: When first I saw that fairy form, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Her dark hair tossing in the storm; Unhurt amidst the war of elements, And fast and fi-ee these pulses play'd, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. When last I met that gentle maid,ADDISON: Cato. When last her hand in mine was laid. And now I faint with grief; my fate draws Those locks of jet are turn'd to gray, nigh; nigh; ~~~~~~~And she is strange and far away, In all the pride of blooming youth I die.e n That might have been mine own to-day,ADDISON: Ovid. That might have been mine own, my dear, O, give me back once more, Through many and many a happy year O, give me, Lord, one hour of youth again! o That might have sat beside me here. For in that time I was serene and bold, And uncontaminate, and enraptured with Ay, changeless through the changing scene, The universe. I did not know the pangs The ghostly whisperings between, Of the proud mind, nor the sweet miseries The dark refrain of " might have been!" Of love; and I had never gather'd yet, The race is o'er I might have run, After those fires so sweet in burning, bitter The deeds are past I might have done, Handfuls of ashes, that, with tardy tears Handso e, ta, wAnd sere the wreath I might have won. Sprinkled, at last have nourish'd into bloom The solitary flower of penitence. Sunk is the last faint flickering blaze: From thle Italian of ALEARDO ALEARDI: The vision of departed days Translated by HOWELLS. Is vanish'd even as I gaze. YO UTH.- 70I The pictures with their ruddy light These', long unhappy, now at freedom set, Are changed to dust and ashes white, Yet linger for a moment quite forlorn, And I am left alone with night. Droop o'er their faded flowers with regret, All the Year Round: "Faces in the Fire." Then fly to find new homes before the morn. In the depth of an ancient casement, Good fairies guard and guide them through the Looking unto the west, night; A little maiden sat and read To waiting buds these lonely sprites they In the evening's golden rest. bring, And to the beauty yet conceal'd from sight, And her bright brain teem'd with fancies Link them by magic of their wondrous ring; Of spiritual things, The light flows round them with a happy tune, Of breadths of silent, starry skies, While the uniting charm is made complete Whiten'd with angels' wings, With hands thrice waved towards the setting And fields of blowing lilies, moon, Radiant within the dawn, And the buds ope to give us flowers sweet. With the branches of the tree of life All the Year Round. "Fairies and Flowers." Shadowing field and lawn. Glad were the children when their glowing faces For the thin and tiny volume Gather'd about us in the winter night; Was rich with fairy lore, And now, with gleesome hearts, in verdant And kindled her chiming fancies places As she turn'd the leaflets o'er, We see them leaping in the summer light: Reading of knights and ladies, For they remember yet the tales we told them, Who walk-'d in the forests old, - Around the hearth, of fairies, long ago, Bright as the morning planet When they could only look out to behold them, Ere gather'd to its fold. Quick dancing earthward, in the feathery snow. And the chamber walls grew lustrous, And the s, But now the young and fresh imagination And the furnaced depths of fire, That flnme on the f c ed hodrizofi, Finds traces of their presence everywhere, That flamed on the red horizon, Were fill'd with dome, and spire, And peoples with a new and bright creation The clear blue chambers of the sunny air. And minarets, front out whose tops And minarets, from out whose tops For them the gate of many a fairy palace The bells of heaven blew Opes to the ringing bugle of the bee, Such harmnonies and melodies And every flower-cup is a golden chalice, That thrill'd her through and through. f A 11 i e Ye a it: Ch a es. Wine-fill'd, in some grand elfin revelry. All the Year Round.' "Chanffes." Quaint little eyes from grassy nooks are peering; Children, who gather common flowers at will, Each dewy leaf is rich in magic lore; And leave them, withering, on the path to lie, The foam-bells down the merry brooklet steerDream not that sprites, in pain, cling to them ing still, Are fairy-freighted to some happier shore. And cannot wander till the moon is high; All the Year Round.' " Fairy Lore." When evening's hush is felt on bill and deli, Stern theorists, with wisdom overreaching The fairies of all flowers round them meet, The aim of wisdom, in your precepts cold, And charm the night with tones ineffable, And with a painful stress of callous teaching And circle o'er the grass with glimmering feet. That withers the young heart into the old, The fairies, gather'd round, with pity view What is the gain if all their flowers were perThe broken flowers lying helplessly, ish'd, And trick out the crush'd leaves with diamond Their vision-fields forever shorn and bare, dew; The mirror shatter'd that their young faith cherBut when the moon is high, the sprites are ish'd, free. Showing the face of things so very fair? 702 YO UTH. Time hath enough of ills to undeceive them, When others play'd, she stole apart And cares will crowd where dreams have In pale and shadowy quiet; dwelt before: Too full of care was her child heart Oh, therefore, while the heart is trusting, leave For laughter running riot. them All the Year Round.' "Legend of Little Pearl." Their happy childhood and their fairy lore The little ones are gone to rest, All fike Year Rou'nd.- " Fairy Loa-e." And for awhile they will not miss The mother-wings above the nest; The pure, the bright, the beautiful, Thet pure, te burigh, therts heouti, But down a dream they feel her kiss, And in their sleep will sometimes start, The impulse to a wordless prayer, And toss wild arms for her caress, The dreams of love and truth, The o lo ver an t, With moanings that must thrill a heart The longings after something lost, In heaven with divine distress. The spirit's yearning cry, "A Le 4, Alth21e Year -Round.' "1A Pesterin Blacko" The stl-ivings after better hopes,The strivings after hetter hopes, In Manhood, in the full accomplish'd glory These things can never die. And ecstasy of life, The timid hand stretch'd forth to aid Memories of the golden Land of Morning A brother in his need, Haunt us in peace and strife; The kindly word in grief's dark hour Vague visions of that fresh and happy season, That proves the friend indeed, The Paradise of youth, The plea for mercy softly breathed When earth was one unfading summer landWhen justice threatens nigh,scape, The sorrow of a contrite heart,- And love a blossom'cl truth. These things shall never die. The pipe of birds, awaking to the sunrise, The memory of a clasping hand, Cool shadows on the lawn, The pressure of a kiss, The solemn mountains fired with eastern splenAnd all the trifles sweet and frail dour, That make up love's first bliss,- The pastoral calm of dawn; If with a firm, unchanging faith, The shining quiet of the Sabbath noontide, And holy trust and high, The musical fleet brooks, Those hands have clasp'd, those lips have met, The evening rest and ever-welcome voices These things shall never die. Of home-returning rooks; All the Year Round. "I zpmerishable." The windy hands that tapp'd the frosted case" Poor little Pearl, good little Pearl!"ments Through the December nights; Sigh'd every kindly neighbour; Earth ring'd with darkness, and, above outIt was so sad to see a girl So tender, doom'd to labour. The still, celestial lights; A wee bird flutter'd from its nest Remember'd echoes of heart-treasured voices, Too soon, was that meek creature; The blessing and the prayer, Just fit to rest in mother's breast, Gentle " Good-nights" and tender parting kisses, The darling of fond Nature. And slumbers calm and rare; Return to us, with one dear recollection God shield poor little ones, where all Of a sweet mother's face FMust help to be bread'-bringoers! Bright with angelic blessedness and quiet, For once afoot, there's none too small And fair domestic grace: And fair domestic grace: To ply their tiny fingers. Rise and return from the dark burial-cliambers Poor Pearl! she had no time to play Of the mysterious brain, The merry game of childhood; Till the o'er-burden'd heart and pining spirit From dawn to dark she worlk'd all day, Are faint with sense of pain. A wooding in the wildwood. All the Year Round.' "Longings." YOUTH. 703 The old old friends! You sang the olden songs; and, sadly dreaming, Some changed; some buried; some gone out I lay and listen'd, while you thought I slept; of sight; And if the tears were from my eyelids streamSome enemies, and in the world's swift fight ing, No time to make amends. You saw them not-and so I freely wept. The old old friends! Round us the silent shadowy night was stealing, Where are they? Three are lying in one grave; You were a voice alone within the dark, And one from the far-off world, on the daily And from Life's harden'd crust a tender feeling wave, Broke like a blossom through the rugged bark. No loving message sends. You were again a young and blushing maiden, The old dear friends! i IWho lean'd upon my breast and breathed of One passes daily; and one wears a mask; love; Another, long estranged, cares not to ask And I, no more with disappointments laden, Another, long estranged, cares not to ask Where causeless anger ends. Seem'd as of yore beside you in the grove. Where causeless anger ends. The sky above us was serenely tender, The dear old friends, The moon shone softly gleaming through the So many and so fond in days of youth! Alas that Faith can be divorced from Truth, trees; When love in severance ends! Clasp'd heart to heart in Love's complete surrender, The old old friends! Life seem'd an island in enchanted seas. They hover round me still in evening shades: A41 the Year Round: " Twilikht Dozizg-s." Surely they shall return when sunlight fades, And life on God depends. Now the young soul her mighty power shall 4Al thze Year Rounld.' "Old Eriemds." prove, And outward things around her move, Last night the snow was falling, Pure ministers of purer love, It fell throughout the night; And make the heart her home; I woke this morning, mother, Or to the meaner senses sink a slave, And saw the ground was white. To do their bidding, though they madly crave Through hateful scenes of vice to roam. White were the peaceful meadows, WASHINGTON ALLSTON: Thscaz Maid. And white the tall, dark pines; And white was yonder mountain, Youth might be wise: we suffer less from pains On which the sun first shines. Than pleasures. P. J. BAILEY: Festuzs. And in our own dear valley Youth hath a strong and strange desire to try The snow was lying deep; All feelings on the heart: it is very wrong, And in the quiet churchyard And dangerous, and deadly: strive against it. Where my little sisters sleep. P. J. BAILEY:'eshIs. And o'er their little tombstones In the flush of youth and the spring of feeling, The snow-flakes form'd a wreath: When life, like a sunny stream, is stealing But naught are flowers or snow-flakes, Its silent steps through a flowery path, To those who sleep beneath! And all the endearments that pleasure hath We declk'd the graves last stummer. 1Are pour'd from her full, o'erflowing horn,With many a primrose gem; l When the rose of enjoyment conceals no thorn,But nwhether flowers or snow-flalkes In her lightness of heart, to the cheery song It matters not to them. iAThe maiden may trip in the dance along, And think of the passing moment that lies But oh! the snow is lovely, Like a fairy dream in herl dazzled eyes, So beautiful and bright; And yield to the present that charms around, Pure as the little spirits With all that is lovely in sight or sound, Who wear their robes as white. Where a thousand pleasing phantoms flit, A4ll Me Year Roucnd. SSnow." With the voice of mirth and the burst of wit, 704 YOUTH. And the music that steals to the bosom's core, Await the awaken'd mind, to the high prize And the heart in its fulness flowing o'er Of wisdom hardly earn'd with toil and pain, With a few big drops, that are soon repress'd, Aspiring patient; yet on life's wide plain For short is the stay of grief in her breast:- Cast friendless, where unheard some sufferer In this enliven'd and gladsome hour cries The spirit may burn with a brighter power: Hourly, and oft our road is lone and long, But dearer the calm and quiet day,'Twere not a crime should we awhile delay When the heaven-sick soul is stealing away. Amid the sunny field; and happier they, T. L. BEDDOES. Who, as they wander, woo the charms of song If, gracious God, in life's green, ardent year, To cheer their path, till they forget to weep, A thousand times thy patient love I tried; And the tired sense is hush'd, and sinks to With reckless heart, with conscience hard and sleep. sere, WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES: Thy gifts perverted, and thy power defied: iDreams of Youth. O grant me, now that wintry snows appear Promise of youth! fair as the form Around my brow, and youth's bright promise Of Heaven's benign and golden bow, hide, — Thy smiling arch begirds the storm, Grant me with reverential awe to hear And sheds a light on every woe. Thy holy voice, and in thy word confide! JAMES G. BROOKS. Blot from my book of life its early stain! Since days misspent wbill never more return, I, writing thus, am still what men call young: I have not so far left the coasts of life My future path do thou in mercy trace: To travel inland, that I cannot hear So cause my soul with pious zeal to burn, That miurmur of the water infinite That all the trust which in thy name I place, Which unwuean'd babies smile at in their sleep, Frail as I am, may not prove wholly vain. When wonder'd at for smiling. frootm the IfalSan of PIETRO BEMBO: (U; S. ~it. Gas.)MRS. E. B. BROWNING. (fU. S. Lit. Gaz.) By a clear well, within a little field Yet grieve thou not, nor think thy youth is Full of green grass and flowers of every hue, gone, Sat three young girls, relating (as I knew) Nor deem that glorious season e'er could die. Their loves. And each had twined a bough to Thy pleasant youth, a little while withdrawn, shield Waits on the horizon of a brighter sky; Her lovely face; and the green leaves did yield Waits lile the morn, that folds her wing and The golden hair their shadow; while the two hides, Sweet colours mingled, both blown lightly Till the slow stars bring back her dawning thlroughhour; With a soft wind forever stirr'd and still'. Waits, like the vanish'd spring, that slumbering After a little while one of them said bides Her own sweet time to wakeln bud and (I heard her), " Think! if ere the next hour flower. struck, Each of our lovers should come here to-day, There shall he welcome thee, when thou shalt Think you that we should fly or feel afraid?" stand To whom the others answer'd, 1" From such On his bright morning hills, with smiles more lick sweet A girl would be a fool to run away." Than when at first he took thee by the hand, BOCCACCIO: Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet. 1T9arslated by ROSSETTI: Ea'-ly Italian Poets. He shall bring back, but brighter, broader still, Bereave me not of those delightful dreams Life's early glory to thine eyes again, Which charm'd my youth; or'mid her gay Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and career fill Of hope, or when the faintly-paining tear Thy leaping heart with warmer love than Sat sad on memory's cheek! though loftier then. themes WILLIAM C. BRYANT: Return of Youth. YOUTH. 705 O man! while in thy early years, The heart in an existence of its own, How prodigal of time! Of which another's bosom is the zone. Misspending all thy precious hours, BYRON. Thy glorious youthful prime! BURNS In my youth's summer I did sing of One, Oh enviale,. The wandering'outlaw of his own dark mind;, Oh! enviable, early days, When dancing thoughtless pleasure's maze, Again I seize the theme, then but begun, To care, to guilt unknoown! And bear it with me, as the rushing wind Bears the cloud onwards: in that Tale I find' How ill exchanged for riper times, To feel the follies, or the crimes, The furrows of long thought, and dried-up. Of others, or my own! tears, Ye tiny elves, that guileless sport, Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,. Like linnets in the bush, O'er which all heavily the journeying years Plod the last sands of life —where not a flower Ye little know the ills ye court When manhood is your wish! appears. The losses, the crosses, Since my young days of passion, joy, or pain, That active men engage; Perchance my heart and harp have lost a. The fears all, the tears all, string, Of dim declining age! And both may jar: it may be that in vain BURNS: Despondency. I would essay as I have sung to sing. Yet, though a dreary strain, to this I cling::Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning! So that it wean me from the weary dream Cold pausing Cayution's lesson scorning, Of selfish grief or gladness,-so it fling We friisk away, Forgetfulness around me,-it shall seem Like school-boys at th' expected warning,, Like school-boys at th' expected warning, To me, though to none else, a not ungrateful' To joy and play. theme. BURNS: Epistle to _7ames Smoitzh. In earlier days, and calmer hours, Youth with swift feet walks onward in the way; e', The land of joy lies all before his eyes; When heart'ith heart delights tolend, Where bloom my native valley's bowrers, Age, stumbling, lingers slower day by day, I had —ah! have I now?-a friend! Still looking back, for it behind him lies. BYRON: Ginoz-tr; FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE BUTLER. There's not a joy the world can give like that it Long has the furious priest assay'd in vain With sword and faggot infidels to gain; takes away, But nov the milder soldier wisely tories When the glow of early thought declines in -But now the milder soldier wisely tries.By gentler methods to unveil their eyes. feeling's dull decay; Wonders apart, he knew'twere vain t' engage'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush' alone which fades so fast, The fix'd preventions of misguided age: But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere With fairer hopes he forms the Indian youth But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere To early manners, probity, and truth. The lion's whelp thus, on the Libyan shore, Then the few whose spirits float above the Is tamed and gentled by the artful Moor: wreck of happiness Not the grim sire, inured to blood before. Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or oceans of WILLIAM BYRD, of Virginia.' excess: Westover Mllannscript. The magnet of their course is gone, or only The love of higher things and better days, points in vain Th unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall Th' unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance Of what is call'd the world, and the world's never stretch again. ways; Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death The moments when we gather from a glance itself comes down; More joy than from all future pride or praise, It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not Which kindle manhood, but can ne'er. entrance dream its own; 45 706 YOUTH. That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain Pass like the anthem of a breeze away, of our tears, - Sinking in waves of death ere chill'd by And though the eye may sparkle still,'tis where time! the ice appears. Ere yet dark years on the warm cheek had shed Autumnal mildew o'er the roselike red! Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, AAnd yet what mourner, though the pensive eye Through midnight hours that yield no more Be dimly thoughtful in its burning tears, their former hope of rest, But should with rapture gaze upon the sky,'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret Through whose far depths the spirit's wing wreathe, I careers? All green and wildly fresh without, but worn There gleams eternal o'er their ways ale flung and gray beneath. Who fade from earth while yet their years are young! O could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK: Early DeaTd. been, Come, while the blossoms of thy years are Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a Come, while the lossoms of thy years are vanish'd scene,- rightest, Thou youthful wanderer in a flowery maze, As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all Come, while the restless heart is bounding brackish though they be, So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears lightest, would flow to me!~ And joy's pure sunbeams tremble in thy ways; would flow to me! Come, while sweet thoughts, like summer-buds BYRON: Youth and Age. unfolding, In joyous youth what soul hath never known Waken rich feelings in the careless breast, Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own? While yet thy hand the ephemeral wreath is Who hath not paused while beauty's pensive holding, eye Come,-and secure interminable rest! Ask'd from his heart the homage of a sigh? Soon will the freshness of thy days be over, Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten And thy free buoyancy of soul be flown; fiame, Pleasure will fold her wing, and friend and The power of grace, the magic of a name? lover CAMPBEIL. Will to the embraces of the worm have gone; Those who now love thee will have pass'd While memory watches o'er the sad review'Of joys that faded like the morning dew. Their looks of kindness will be lost to thee; CAMPBELL: Pleasuores of Lope. Thou wilt need balm to heal thy spirit's fever, The restless spirit charm'd thy sweet existence, As thy sick heart broods over years to be. Making all beauteous in youth's pleasant Come, while the morning of thy life is glowing, maze, Ere the dim phantoms thou art chasing die; While gladsome hope illumed the outward Ere the gay spell which earth is round thee distance, throwing And lit with sunbeams thy expectant days. Fades, like the crimson from a sunset sky; WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. Life hath but shadows, save a promise given, Which lights the future with a fadeless ray: Life openeth brightly to their ardent gaze; Oh, touch the sceptre -win a hope in heaven! A glorious pomp sits on the gorgeous sky; Come, turn thy spirit from the world away O'er the broad world hope's smile incessant WILLIs GAYLORD CLARI: The Invitation. plays, Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade, And scenes of beauty win the enchanted eye: Death came with friendly care, How sad to break the vision, and to fold The opening bud to heaven convey'd, Each lifeless form in earth's embracing mould! And bade it blossom there. Yet this is life! To mark, from day to day, S. T. COLERIDGE: Youth in the freshness of its morning prime, Epitaph on an ~infrt. YOU TH. 707 Oh, Youth! for years so many and sweet, How bless'd the youth whom Fate ordains'Tis known that thou and I were one, A kind relief from all his pains, I'll think it but a fond conceit — In some admired fair; It cannot be-that thou art gone! Whose tenderest wishes find express'd Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:- Their own resemblance in her breast, And thou wert aye a masker bold! Exactly copied there! What strange disguise hast now put on, COWPER. To make believe that thou art gone? And to say truth, though in its early prime, S. T. COLERIDGE: YOut/j and Aft&. And when unstain'd with any grosser crime, Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like; Youth has a sprightliness and fire to boast, Friendship is a sheltering tree; That in the valley of decline are lost, O the joys that came down shower-like, And Virtue with peculiar charms appears, Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty, Crown'd with the garland of life's blooming Ere I was old! years; S. T. COLERIDGE: Youth and Age. Yet age, by long experience well inform'd, Well read, well temper'd, with religion warm'dLife went a-Maying That fire abated which impels hot youth, With Nature, Hope, and Poesy, Proud of his speed, to overshoot the truth,When I was young! As time improves the grape's authentic juice, NWhen I ewas young? Ah, woful when! Mellows and makes the speech more fit for Ah, for the change'twixt now and then! use, S. T. COLERIDGE: You/th and Agae. And claims a rev'rence in its short'ning day'Tis well to give honour and glory to age, That'tis an honour and a joy to pay. With its lessons of wisdom and truth, COWPER: Conversation. Yet who would not go back to the fanciful page, And the fairy tale read but in youth? Bestow, (ear Lord, upon our youth Let time rolling on crown with fame or with The gift of saving grace; gold,- And let the seed of sacred truth Let us bask in the kindliest beams; Fall in a fruitful place. Yet what hope can be cherish'd, what gift can we hold, Grace is a plant, wvhere'er it grows, That will bless like our earlier dreams Of pure andl heavenly root; ELIZA COOK. But fairest in the yolmgest shows, And yields the sweetest fruit. Let them exult: their laugh and song Are rarely known to last too long; Ye careless ones, 0 hear betimes Why should we strive, with cynic frown, The voice of sov'reig(n love! To knock their fairy castles down? Your youth is stain'd with many crimes, ELIZA COOK. But mercy reigns above. Live, that thy young and glowing breast COWPER: Olney Hymns. Can think of death without a sigh,'Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears, And be assurecl that life is best Our most important are our earliest years: Which finds us least afraid to die. The mind, impressible and soft, with ease ELIZA COOK. Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, Youth lost in dissipation,-we deplore And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clue Through life's sad remnant, what no sighs re- That education gives her, false or true. store: COWPER: Progress of Error. Our years, a fruitless loss without a prize, Our years, a fruitless los without a prize, Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, — Too many-yet too few to make us wise. COWPER. We love the play-place of our early days: The scene is touching, and the heart is stone From thoughtless youth to ruminating age. That feels not at that sight, and feels at home. COWPER. COWPER: Tirocinizui. 708 YOUTN. Hear, Lord, the song of praise and prayer, Youth, what man's age is like to be, doth show; In heaven thy dwelling-place, We may our end by our beginning know. From infants made the public care SIR J. DENHAM. And taught to seek thy face. Intenp'rate youth, by sad experience found, Thanks for thy word and for thy day, Ends in an age imperfect and unsound. And grant us, we implore,'SIR J. DENHAM. Never to waste in silnfutl play Nature to youth hot rashness doth dispense, Thly holy sabbaths more. But with cold prudence age doth recompense. Thanks that we hear-but oh! impart SIR J. DENHAM. To each desire sincere In age to wish for youth is full as vain That we may listen with our heart, As for a youth to turn a child again. And learn as well as hear. SIR J. DENHAM. For if vain thoughts the llmi'nd engage NWhat to the old canll greater pleasure be Of older far than we, Of older far than we, Than hopeful and ingenuous youth to see? What hope that, at our heedless age, SIR J. DENHAM. Our minds should e'er be free? Something of youth I in old age approve, Mtuch hope, if thou our spirit take Munderthy graiousour swirit tay, But more the marks of age in youth I love. Under thy gracious sway, Who this observes, may in his body find - Wi7ho canst the wisest wiser make, Who canst te wisest wiser make, Decrepit age, but never in his mind. And babes as wise as they. SIR J. DIENHAM. Wisdom and bliss thy world estows, Oh, say, does the cottage yet peer friom the shadow A sunI that ne'er declines; Of ancestral ellls on the side of the hill? — And be thy melrcies shower'cl on those Its doorway of woodbine, that look'd to the Who placed us where it shines. meadow COWPER: And welcomed the sun as a guest on the sill;.For the Use of t/he Suznday-School at Olney. The April-wing,'d martin, with garrulous laughGreen as the bay-tree ever green, ter,With its new foliage on, Is he there where the mosses were thatching The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen': the cave? I pass'd —ancl they were gone. And the dear little wren that crept under the raftel', Read, ye that run, the awful truth The earliest to come, and the latest to leave? With which I charge my page: A worm is in the bud of youth, Oh, say, is the hawthorn the hedgerow perAnd at the root of age. fuming Adown. the old lane? Are the willows still No present health can health ensure For yet an hour to come; Fo yeticane, hour it com Where briery thicksets in springtime were bloomNo medicine, though it oft call cure, Can always balk the tomb. And breathing their life on the odorous air? And O! that humble as my lot, And runs yet the brook where the violets were And scorn'd as is my strain, weeping, These truths, though known, too much forgot, Where the white lily sat like a swan on the I may not teach in vain. stream, COWPER: While under the laurel the shepherd-boy, sleepSubjoined to the Yearly Bill of Mortality, I787. ing, Saw only the glory of life in his dream? Alas! that youth's fond hopes should fade, GEORoE XV. DElEy: To an OldAci ce. And love be but a name, XWhile its rainbows, follow'd e'er so fast, p charming youth! in the first op'ning page: Are distant still -the same! So many graces in so green an age. RUFUS DAWES. DRYDEN. YOU TH. 709 Of gentle blood, his parents' only treasure, Fair, sweet, and young, receive a prize Their lasting sorrow and their vanish'd pleasure; Reserved for, your victorious eyes: Adorn'd with features, virtues, wit, and grace, From crowds whom at your feet you see, A large provision for so short a race: Oh, pity and distinguish me! More moderate gifts might have prolong'd his As I fiom thousand beauties more date, Distinguish you, and only you adore. Too early fitted for a better state: Your face for conquest was design'd; But, knowing heaven his home, to shun delay Your ev'ry motion charms my mind; He leap'd o'er age, and took the shortest way. Angels, when you your silence break, DRYDEN. EForget their hymns to hear you speak; But when at once they hear and view, But who can youth let loose to vice restrain? But when at once they hear and view, When once the ha-rd-mouth'cl horse has got the Are loth to mount, and long to stay with you. rein, No graces can your form improve, He's past thy pow'r to stop. But all are lost unless you love; DRYDEN. While that sweet passion you disdain, Your veil and beauty are in vain: All this in blooming youth you have achieved; Nor all your foil'd contemporaries grieved. pity, then, prevent my fate,;DRvYDEN. For after dying all reprieve's too late. DRYDEN. We thought our sires, not with their own con~~~sent, ~~~~No youth shall equal hopes of glory give, sent, The Trojan honour and the Roman boast, Had (ere we came to age) our portion spent. DRYDEN. Admired when living, and adored when lost. DRYDEN. In youth alone, unhappy mortals live; In youth alone, unhappy mortals live; If you have not enjoy'd what youth could give, But ah! the mighty bliss is fugitive: But life sunk through you like a leaky sieve, Discolour'd sickness, anxious labour, come, ndi rd sces, asnxolabo, oome, Accuse yourself: you lived not while you might. And age, and death's inexorable doom. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Yet, oh! the imperfect piece moves more deWhen I was young, I, like a lazy fool, light; Would blear my eyes with oil, to stay from Would blear my eyes with oil, to stay from Tis gilded o'er with youth to catch the sight. school,, DRYDEN. Averse to pains. DRYDEN, My full-blown youth already fades apace; Well I knew Of our short being'tis the shortest space! DRYDEN. What perils youthful ardour would pursue, That boiling blood would carry thee too far. Yet a few days, and those which now appear DRYDEN. In youth and beauty like the blooming year, In life's swift scene shall change. Some friends of vice pretend That I the tricks of youth too roughly blame. DRvDEN. But youth, the perishing good, runs on too fast, And unenjoy'd it spends itself to waste: Youth, that with joys had unacquainted been, And unejy'd it spends itself to waste Youth, thtitjysbauacut, Few know the use of life before'tis past. Envied gray hairs, that once good days had seen. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. Secure these golden early joys My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain deThat youth unsour'd with sorrow bears. sires; DRYDEN. r~IMy manhood, long misled by wand'ring fires, Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse O early ripe! to thy abundant store was gone, What could advancing age have added more? My priide struck out new sparkles of her own. DRYDEN. DRYDEN. 71o YO UTH. My youth, my youth! oh, give me back my Torments,-if than a stone less hard his heart, youth! Would fly the sad recital of my woes; Not the unfurrow'd brow and blooming cheek, For faces firm the tale would discompose But childhood's sunny thoughts, its perfect truth, Of Love's deceptions causing so much smart. And youth's unworldly feelings-these I seek: O list, ye doomr'd to weep! while I display Ah, who could e'er be sinless and yet sage? The drear and mournful scene in saddest plaint, Would that I might forget Time's dark and The scaffold bare and platform's bloody wayblotted page! Where, dragg'd to death, behold a martyr'd EMMA C. EMxBURY: Old Man's Lament,. saint;Just as a mother, with sweet pious face, And where to shameful pain unto your view Yearns towards her little children from her Love faithful and sincere condemn'd I show. Yearns towards her little children from her seat, ro te Po;rtznl-nese of P. A. C. GARCXO: seat, Gives one a kiss, another an embrace, Translated by ADAMSON. Takes this upon her knees, that on her feet; Dear Idvely bowers of innocence and ease, And while from actions, looks, complaints, pre- Seats of my youth, when ev'ry sport could tences, please, She learns their feelings and their various will, How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, To this a look, to that a word, dispenses, Where humble happiness endear'd each scene! And, whether stern or smiting, loves them GoLDsIaTH: Deser-ted Viltage. still;So Providence for us, high, infinite, Thus wisely she makes up her time, Makes our necessities its watchful task, Misspept when youth was in its prime. Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our GRANVILIE. wants, When the bright summer sky of time And even if it denies what seems our right, Cloudless is o'er him spread; Either denies because't would have us ask, When love' bright wreath is in its prime Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants. With not one blossom dead: Fromz tze Italianz of VINCENZO DA FILICAJA: Tanzslatead by LEIGH HUNT. Whilst o'er his hopes and prospects fair No mist of woe hath gone, The heart Still he repeats his first taught-prayer,Of an unsteady youth, the giddy brain, Father, thy will be done. Green indiscretion, flattery of greatness, Rawness of judgment, wilfulness in folly, Thoughts vagrant as the mind, and as uncertain. Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, JOHN FORD: Brokenz ffearn. While proudly riding o'er the azure realm Some wit of old, —such wits of old there were,- In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; care, Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his ev'ning Call'd clear blank paper every infant mind; prey. GRAy: B2ard. Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, Fair Virtue put a seal, or Vice a blot. Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Al, fields beloved in vain! The thought was happy, pertinent, and tiue; Ah, fields eloved in vain Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. Where once my careless childhood stray'd, Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. I (can you pardon my presumption?) I — A stranger yet to pain No wit, no genius, —yet for once will try. A momentary bliss bestow, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: Par; a Poe. A momenta bliss besto As, waving fresh their gladsome wing, The gentle youth who reads my hapless strain, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And ne'er hath felt the shafts of frenzied Love, And, redolent of joy and youth, Nor knows the anguish he is doom'd to prove, To breathe a second spring. Whom vile deceit, when kept in beauty's chain, GRAY: Dzistant Prospect of Eton College. YO UTH. 7I Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed, Youth and the opening rose Less pleasing when possess'd; May look like things too glorious for decay, ThJe tear forgot as soon as shed, And smile at thee-but thou art not of those The sunshine of the breast. That wait the ripen'd bloom to seize their Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, prey. Wild wit, invention ever new, MRS. HEMANs: Hour of Death. And lively cheer of vigour born; By the soft green light in the woody glade, The thoughtless day, the easy night, On the banks of moss where thy childhood The spirits pure, the slumbers light, play'd; That fly the approach of morn. By the household tree through which thine eye First look'd in love to the summer sky; Alas! regardless of their doom, By the dewy gleam, by the very breath The little victims play; The little victims play; Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, No sense have they of ills to come, Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, Nor care beyond to-day; Net see how all around'em wait Holy and precious-oh! guard it well! Yet see how all around'em wait The ministers of human fate, By the sleepy ripple of the stream And black Misfortune's baleful train. Which hath lull'd thee into many a dream; Ah! show them where in ambush stand, By the shiver of the ivy-leaves To seize their prey, the murth'rous baud: To the wind of morn at thy casement-eaves; Ah, tell them they are men! By the bees' deep murmur in the limes, GRAY: Distant Prospet of Eton College. By the music of the Sabbath-chimes, By every sound of thy native shade, Stronger and dearer the spell is made. Its summer flowers are thine,MRS. HEMANS: The pells of Home. Its calm blue sky is o'er thee, IThysc bosom pleasure's shrine; Yes! when thy heart in its pride would stray And thine the surnbe'sm given From the pure first loves of its youth away; When the sullying breath of the world would To Nature's morning hour, Pure, warm, as when from heaven come It burst on Eden's bower. O'er the flowers it brought from its childhood's FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: To *. homne; Think thou again of the woody glade, Grieve not that I die young-Is it not well And the sound by the rustling ivy made; To pass away ere life hath lost its brightness? Think of the tree at thy father's door, Bind me no longer, sisters, with the spell And the kindly spell shall have powcr once Of love and your kind words. List ye to me: more. Here I am bless'd-but I would be more free; MRs. HEMANS: The Spells of Home. I would go forth in all my spirit's lightness. Let me depart!Gather ye rose-buds while ye may: Old Time is still a-flying, Ah! who would linger till bright eyes grow dim, And this same flower that smiles to-day Kind voices mute, and faithful bosoms cold? To-morrow will be dying. Till carking care, and coil, and anguish grim, HERRICK: Cast their dark shadows o'er this faary world; To the Virgins to Make Mich of Time. Till fancy's many-colour'd wings are furl'd, To boyhood hope-to manhood fears! And all, save the proud spirit, waxeth old? Alas! alas! that each bright home I would depart! Should be a nursing-place for tears, Thus would I pass away —yielding my soul A cradle for the tomb! A joyous thank-offering to Him who gave If childhood seeth all things loved That soul to be, those starry orbs to roll. Where home's unshadowy shadows wave, Thus-thus exultingly would I depart, The old man's treasure hath removed — Song on my lips, ecstasy in my heart: He looketh to the grave!Sisters-sweet sisters, bear me to my grave- For grave and home lie sadly blent Let me depart! Wherever spreads yon firmament. LADY FLORA HASTINGS: SWanz Song. T. K. HERVEY: Homfes and Graves. 71 2 YO U2TI. Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, Give us light amid our darkness; And lose the medium in the wild extreme. Let us know the good from ill; AARON HILL: Aizira. Hate us not for all our blindness; Love us, lead us, show us kindness, — The rainbow's lovely on the eastern cloud;,, You call make us what you will. The rose is beauteous on the bended thorn; Sweet is the evening ray from purple shroud, We are willing; we are ready; And sweet the orient blushes of the morn: We would learn, if you would teach; Sweeter than all, the beauties which adorn We have hearts that yearn towards duty; The female form in youth and maiden bloom. We have minds alive to beauty; JAMES HOGG. Souls that any heights can reach! I remember, I remember Raise us by your Christian knowledge: The h ou w where the sun Consecrate to man our powers; The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn: Let us take our proper station He never came a wink too soon We, the rising generation, Nor brought too long a ay; Let us stamp the age as ours! Nor brought too long a day; But now I often wish the night We shall be what you will make us: Had borne my breath away! Make us wise, and make us good! I remember, I remember Make us strong for time of trial; The roses red and white, Teach us temperance, self-denial, The violets and lily-cups, Patience, kindness, fortitude! Those flowers made of light! Look into our childish faces; The lilacs where the robin built, See ye not our willing hearts? And where my brother set I Only love us, only lead us; The lahulrnur m oln his birthday, — i Only let us know you need us, The tree is growing yet! And we all will do our parts. THOMAS HOOD: I Remember, I Remember. We are thousands, many thousands! I remember, I remember Every day our ranks increase; The fir-t-ees dark and high- Let us march beneath your banner, I used to think their slender tops We, the legion of true honour, Were close against the sky: Combating for love and peace! It was a childish ignorance; MARY HOWITT: But now'tis little joy Lyrics of Lf.e The Chziden. To know I'm farther off from heav'n Than when I was a hoy! How bright to him life's opening morn! THOMAS H.OOD: IRememzBer, IRememzber. No cloud to intercept a ray; The rose had then no hidden thorn, The pure and radiant eyes The tree of life knew no decay. Of Youth and Hope look up to thee with How greeted oft his wondering soul love; The fairy shapes of childish joy, Would it were thine, meek dweller of the skies, gayly on the moments stole To save from tears! but no! too far above And still grew up the blooming boy! This dim, cold earth thou shinest, richly flinging RALPH HOYT: The Vor-ld-Sale. Thy soft light down on all who watch thy beam, A fitting emblem of the helpless child And to the heart of Sorrow gently bringing Born in the darksome cellar or the den The glories pictured in Life's mourning In some great city's low and secret haunts, stream. The lurking-place of low and guilty men: Lucy HOOPER: Evening 77zozyuzts. Each wholesome impulse stifled in its birth, Choked down with all the guilt and sin of Grief seldom join'd with youthful bloom is seen: Can sorrow be where knowledge scarce has been? Childhood without its innocent delights, SIR ROBERT HOWARD: fnidian Queen. Reft of its happy mirth and healthy play, YO0UTtH. 7 3 The first and sweetest roses of its life Along the walks, and up the lawn, From cheek and heart alike have pass'd away, I wander every day, The sallow face, a type of all within, And sit beneath the mulberry's shade, Wither'd by hunger, suffering, and sin. Where most we loved to play. No stir of feet the stillness breaks, They know no wanderings in the russet woods No stir of feet the stillness No dear familiar tone; For nuts and berries, nor can they explore The haunts of bird and insect; closed to theming each her separate way, They left me here alone. The country urchin's ever-varied store. They have no primrose, no first violet, To love them, and their love to share, Nor are their hearts upon such treasures set. Was life and joy to me; I was the eldest of the house; Not theirs that holy season of the heart, My sisters they were three. That innocent childhood'tis so sweet to see; Household Words. "Springs in lh/e Desert." Early inured to poverty and toil, Alone.by my fireside dreaming, Not theirs the heritage of bird and bee,. de Counting Life's golden sands: But born of sin, and rear'd'mid guilt and crime Counting the years on my fingers To a precocious evil ere their time. Since my youth and I shook hands, — Household Words: "A Datisy on a Grave." Since I stood, weak and weary, On the shores of a troubled sea, Let us read the dreams of glory And my youth and its hopes went drifting That childish fancy made; Down the ebb-tide dark and dree,Turn to the next few pages, Counting the years on my fingers, And see how soon they fade. And looking along the shore, He, we sl wt dreaming, Back to the spot where we parted,Here, while still waiting, dreaming,Parted for evermore For some ideal Life, For some ideal Life, Many a precious footprint The young heart all unconscious Trace I upon the sands, Had enter'd on the strife. Had enter'd on the strife. Hence to the shadow'd waters Where my youth and I shook hands. What-could those tears be mine? Ho How coolly I can read you But can there grow cowslips and lilies Each blurr'd and trembling line! Like those that I gather'd in youth? With my heart in the depths of their blossoms, Now I can reason calmly, All steep'd in the dew-drops of truth! And, looking back again, MARIA JANE JEWSBURY. Can see divinest meaning The charms of youth at once are seen and past; Threading each separate pain. And nature says, " They are too sweet to last." Here strong resolve-how hroken! So blooms the rose; and so the blushing maid: Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will Rash hope, and foolish fearfade. And prayers, which God in pity Refused to grant or hear. Happy the schoolboy! Did he prize his bliss, Nay-I will turn the pages'Twere ill exchanged for all the dazzling gems To where the tale is told That gayly sparkle in ambition's eye: Of how a dawn diviner His are the joys of nature, his the smile, Flush'd the dark clouds with gold. The cherub smile, of innocence and health: HFousehold Words.- "My 7ournal." Sorrow unknown, or, if a tear be shed, He wipes it soon: for, hark! the cheerful voice I pace the long-deserted rooms, Of comrades calls him to the top or ball; Still striving to recall Away he hies, and clamours as he goes, The sound of footsteps on the stairs, With glee, which causes him to tread on air. Or voices in the hall. KNOX. 714 YO U?-/H. I have had playmates, I have had companions, No saddening sighs disturb the vernal gale In my days of childhood, in my joyful school- Which fans the wild-wood music on the ear; days: Unbathed the sparkling eye with pity's tear, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces! Save listening to the aged soldier's tale. CHARLES LAMB: Old Familiar Faces. The heart's slow grief which wastes the child of woe, Youth has spent his wealth, and bought T o h l ~ ~And lovely injured woman's cruel wrong, The knowledge he would fain e ge d e hear not in the skylark's morning song, Change for folrgetfulness, and live His dreaming life again. We hear not in the gale that o'er us blow: — His dreaming life again. L. E. LANDON. Visions devoid of woe which childhood drew, How oft shall my sad heart your soothing For pleasures, vanities, and hates, scenes renew! The compact we renew, JOHN LEYDEN: Seresdrty of Chilzdhvood. And Judas rises in our hearts,- NWe sell our Saviour too. Then my days of dawning manhood, How for some moments' vain delights Many, many years ago We will embitter years, When the future seem'd all brightness, And in our youth lay up for age Lit with Love's enchanting glow; y se and teaLANDON. When what hopes and blissful day-dreams Would my buoyant bosom crowd, Ah, tell me not that memory As I led forth my beloved one, Sheds gladness o'er the past: She as fair as I was proud; What is recall'd by faded flowers, Led her forth with lightsome footstep, Save that they did not last? Where some happy rustic throng Were it not better to forget To old Robin's merry music Than but remember and regret? Would so gladly dance along; Look back upon your hours of youth: Or when round came joyous Christmas, What were your early years, Oft beneath the mistletoe But scenes of childish cares and griefs? Have I toy'd with blushing maidens, And say not childish tears Many, many years ago! Were nothing; at that time they were More than the young heart well could bear. Ah! ye golden days! departed! L. E. LANDON: Despondency. Yet full oft, on memory's wing, The friends I loved in early youth, Ye return like some bright vision, The faithless and forgetting, And both joy and sorrow bring. Whom, though they were not worth my love, Where are now my boy companions, I cannot help regretting; Those dear friends of love and truth? Death hath seal'd the lips of many, My feelings, once the kind, the warm, Fair and beautiful in youth. But now the hard, the frozen; Robin's lute has long been silent, The errors I've too long pursued, the trees are old and bare; The path I should have chosen. Silent too the rippling brooklets; L. E. LANDON: The old play-ground is not there; Pi-ay T, ee Let M1[e W/ee To-gzig~t. I Pray Tee Let Me Wee To-N Time has stolen my fair one's beauty, The youth whose bark is guided o'er And he soon -will strike the blow A summer stream by zephyr's breath, That will break the ties that bound us With idle gaze delights to pore Many, many years ago. On imaged skies that glow beneath. T. LOIKER: Many, Many Years Ago. WILLIAM LEGGETT. In the sweet morn of life, when health and joy And with them the Being Beauteous, Laugh in the eye, and o'er each sunny plain Who unto my youth was given, A mild celestial softness seems to reign, More than all things else to love me, Ah! who could dream what woes the heart an- And is now a saint in heaven. noy? LONGFELLOW: Footsteps of Angels. YO UTH. 715 There groups of merry children play'd, How like a prodigal doth Nature seem, There youths and maidens dreaming stray'd;. When thou, for all thy gold, no common art! O precious hours! 0 golden prime Thou teachest me to deem And affluence of love and time 1 More sacredly of every human heart, Even as a miser counts his gold, Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam Those hours the ancient timepiece told,- Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret "Forever-never! show, Never-forever!" Did we but pay the love we owe, LONGFELLOW: Old Clock on the Stairs. And with a child's undoubting wisdom look On all the living pages of God's book. O then to young Love beneath the treeJ. R. LOWELL: To te Dndeion. Came one as young and fair as he, And as like to him as like can he, Thou on my head in early youth didst smile, And, clapping hims little wingsfor glee, And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, nodapn hsmiles wis free, Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee! ~Vith nods and smiles and kisses three, wisd sme e the On to the close, O Lord, abide with me. He whisper'd, Come, oh, come with me: Love pouted and flouted and shook his head, But along with that winsome youth he sped, " Yes, darling, let them go 1" so ran the strain: And love wins love, loud shouted he. " Yes; let them go: gain, fashion, pleasure, WILLIAM W. LORD: A Rimne. power, And all the busy elves to whose domain Though the transient springs have fail'd thee, Belongs the nether sphere, the fleeting hour: Though the founts of youth are dried, Wilt thou among the mlouldering stones "Without one envious sigh, one anxious scheme, In weariness abide? The nether sphere, the fleeting hour, resign: Mine is the world of thought, the world of Wilt thou sit among the ruins, dream; With all words of cheer unspoken, Mine all the past, and all the future mine. Till the silver cord is loosen'd, " Fortune, that lays in sport the mighty low, Till the golden bowl is broken? Age, that to penance turns the joys of youth, Up and onward! Toward the east, Shall leave untouch'd the gifts which Ibestow,Green oases thou shalt find,- The sense of beauty, and the thirst of truth. Streams that rise from higher sources " Of the fair brotherhood who share my grace, Than the pools thou leavest behind. I, from thy natal day, pronounce thee free; Life has import more inspiring And if for some I keep a nobler place, Than the fancies of thy youth: I keep for none a happier than for thee." It has hopes as high as heaven; LORD MACAULAY: It has labour, it has truth; Lines Written on tae Close oJ an Unsnccessf il Conltestfor L'disznbzrtol. It has wrongs that may be righted, Noble deeds that may be clone, Good morrow, gentle Child! and then Again good morrow, and again, Its great battles are unfought,,, Its great triumphs are unwron. Good morrow following still good morrow, ANNE C. LYNCH: Wasted Fontlaizns. Without one cloud of strife or sorrow. And when the god to whom we pay My childhood's earliest thoughts are link'cl with In jest our homages to-day thee; Shall come to claim, no more in jest, The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, His rightful empire o'er thy breast, Who, from the dark old tree Benignant may his aspect be, Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, His yoke the truest liberty; And I, secure in early piety, And if a tear his power confess, Listen'd as if I heard an angel sing Be it a tear of happiness. With news from heaven, which he did bring LORD MACAULAY: Fresh every day to my untainted years, Valentine to th/e HON. MARY C. STANHOPE When birds and flowers and I were happy peers. (Dauzngter of LORD AND LADY MAHON). 7I6 YO UTH. Shall I own a strange sort of desire, Happy, when her welfare calls, Before I extinguish forever the fire He who conquers, he who falls. Of youth and romance, in whose shadowy light Hope whisper'd her first fairy-tales, to excite Deeper, deeper let us toil The last spark, till it rise, and fade far in that In the mines of knowledge; dawn Nature's wealth and learning's spoil Of my days when the twilights of life were first Wil from school and college: drawn Delve we there for richer gems Than the stars of diadems. By the rosy reluctant auroras of Love: In short, from the dead Past the grave-stone to Onward, onward may we press move; Through the path of duty; Of the years long departed forever to take Virtue is true happiness, One last look, one final farewell; to awake Excellence true beauty. The Heroic of Youth from the Hades of joy, Minds are of celestial birth; And once more be, though but for an hour, Make we, then, a heaven of ealth. Jack-la boy? JAMES MONTGOMERY: OWEN MEREDITH: Lucile. Aspi-oaiozs of Youk. Youth, that pursuest with such eager pace Here-while I roved, a heedless boy — Thy even way~, I Here, while through paths of peace I ran, Thou pantest on to win a mournful race: My feet were vex'd with puny snares, Then stay! oh, stay! My bosom stung with insect-cares: But, ah! what light and little things Pause and luxuriate in thy sunny plain; Are childhood's woes!-they break no rest, Loterenjoy: thou n,eve wilt come hack Like dew-drops on the skylark's wings Once past, thou never wilt come back again Once past, verwit omebak gain While slumbering in his grassy nest, A second boy. Gone in a moment, when he springs The hills of manhood wear a noble face To meet the morn with open breast, When seen from far; As o'er the eastern hills her banners glow, The mist of light from which they take their And veil'd in mist the valley sleeps below. grace JAMES MONTGOMERY: Hides what they are. World Before thle World. The dark and weary path those cliffs between Fancies again are springing, Thou canst not know, Like May-flowers in the vales; And how it leads to regions never green, While hopes, long lost, are singing, Dead fields of snow. From thorns; like nightingales; And kindly spirits stir my blood, Pause while thou mayst, nor deem that fate thy Like vernal airs, that curl the flood: gain, There falls to manhood's lot Which, all too fast, A joy which youth has not, Will drive thee forth from this delicious plain, A dream more beautiful than truth, A man at last. Returning Spring, renewing Youth. RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES: Youth and M/anh/ood. Thus sweetly to surrender The present for the past, Here be all the pleasures -In sprightly mood, yet tender, That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, Life's burden doTl to cast When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns This is to taste, fom stage to stage, Brisk as the April buds in primrose season. Youth on the lees refined hy age; MILTON. Like wine well kept and long, Higher, higher will we climb Heady, not harsh, nor strong, Up the mount of glory,. With every annual cup is quaff'd That our names may live through time A richer, purer, mellower draught. In our country's story: JAMES MONTGOMERY: Yozl'/l Renewed. YO UTH;. 717 Oh that the artist's pencil could portray When, fresh from mirth to mirth again, A father's inward bosom to your eyes,- We thought the rapid hours too few: What hopes, and fears, and doubts, perplex his Our only use for knowledge then way, To turn to rapture all we knew! What aspirations for your welfare rise! Delicious days of whim and soul, When, mingling love and laugh together, Then might this unsubstantial image prove, When, mingling love and laugh together, We learn'd the book on pleasure's bowl, When I am gone, a guardian of your youth, And turn'd the leaf with folly's feather. A friend forever urging you to move MOORE: To Stran6ford. In paths of honour, holiness, and truth. CLEMENT C. MOORE: Oft in the stilly night, To Mfy Children, After Having My Portrait Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Taken for Them. Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me; My birthday! —what a different sound Of other days around me; That word had in my youthful ears! T Of boyhood's years, And now each time the day comes round, The words of love then spoken; Less and less white its mark appears.' MOORE. The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone; For ah! my heart, how very soon For ah i my heart, how very soThe cheerful hearts, now broken! The glitt'ring dreams of youth are past!, And long before it reach its noon MOORE: Of The sun of life is overcast. Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, In life's happy morning, hath hid from our I thought of the days when to pleasure alone eyes, My heart ever granted a wish or a sigh, Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young When the saddest emotion my bosom had bloom, known Or earth had profaned what was born for the Was pity for those who were wiser than I! skies: MOORE. Death chill'd the fair fountain, ere sorrow had Whisp'rings, heard by wakeful maids, stain'd it; To whom the night-stars guide us;'Twas frozen in all the pure light of its Stolen walks through moonlight shades, course, With wthose w re love beside us- And but sleeps till the sunshine of Heaven has With those we love beside us; Hearts beating uncain'd it, To water that Eden where first was its At meeting; Tears starting source. At parting: NMOORE: Weee NAot for T/hose. At parting: Oh, sweet youth, how soon it f;ades!! " Tell me, what's Love!" said Youth, one day, Sweet joys of youth, bhow fleeting! To drooping Age, who cross'd his way. MOORE: 7oys of Youth/ How Fleeting. It is a sunny hour of play, Oh, ever thus, from childhood's hour, For which repentance dear doth pay: I've seen my fondest hopes decay; Repentance! Repentance! I never loved a tree or flower, And this is Love, as wise men say." But'twas the first to fade away. MOORE: Youthi andAge. I never nursed a dear gazelle Oh! the joy To glad me with its soft black eye, Of young ideas painted on the mind But when it came to know me well, In the warm glowing colours fancy spreads And love me, it was sure to die. On objects not yet known, when all is new MOORE: Fire- Worshighpers. And all is lovely! HANNAH MORE: Sacred Dramas. I little thought the times were past, FForever past, when brilliant joy Folly may be in youth; Was all my vacant heart's employ: But many times'tis mixt with grave discretion, 718 YOUTH. That tempers it to use, and makes its judgment That she could not suppress,Equal, if not exceeding, that which palsies Hath never ceased to bless Have almost shaken into a disease. My soul, nor will it, through eternal years. THOMAS NABBES: Covent Garden. How often has the thought We stand among the fallen leaves, Of my mourn'd mother brought Young children at our play, Peace to my troubled spirit, and new power And laugh to see the yellow things The tempter to repel! Go rustling on their way: Mother, thou knowest well Right merrily we hunt them down, That thou hast bless'd me since thy mortal The autumn winds and we, hour! Nor pause to gaze when snow-drifts lie, JOHN PIERPONT. Or sunbeams gild the tree: Oh, happy youth! and favour'd of the skies, With dancing feet we leap along Distinguish'd care of guardian deities. Where wither'd boughs are strown; POPE. Nor past nor future checks our song — Fired at first sight with what the muse imparts, The present is our own. In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts, MRS. NORTON: Fallen Leaves. While from the bounded level of our mind Gone in the flush of youth! Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind. Gone ere thy heart had felt earth's withering POPE. care; Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law, Ere the stern world had soil'd thy spirit's truth, Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw Or sown dark sorrow there. Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, A little louder, but as empty quite: Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage, But yesterday'mid life's auroral bloom; To-day, sad winter, desolate and gray, And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age: Sighs round thy lonely tomb. Pleased with this bauble still, as that before, Sighs round thy lonely tomb. Till tired he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er. Fond hearts were beating high, POPE. Fond eyes were watching for the loved one Down the smooth stream, of life the stripling gone, gole, darts, And gentle voices, deeming thou wert nigh, Gay as the morn: bright glows te vernal sky Gay as the morn: bright glows the vernal sky, Talk'd of thy glad return. Hope swells the sails, and passion steers his They watch'd —not all in vain: course. Safe glides his little bark along the shore, T assy d fomonemre otdhe Where virtue takes her stand: but if too far pBut choing sobs, and tears like summer He launches forth beyond discretion's mark, But choking sobs, and tears like summer rain, Welcomed thee home at last. TNVelcomed thee hoze at last. SlcSdden the tempest scowls, the surges roar, WILLIAM JE~WETT PABODIE: Blot his fair day, and plunge him in the deep. BISHOP PORTEUS: DeatJz..Dencar, of ~ Efriend. While blooming youth and gay delight And here's to the friend, the one friend of my blooming youth and gay delight ytSit on thy rosy cheeks confess'd, ~~~~~youth, ~Thou hast, my dear, undoubted right With a head full of genius, a heart full of truth, To triumph o'er this destined east. To triumph o'er this destined breast. Who travell'd with me in the sunshine of life, PRIOR. And stood by my side in its peace and its strife! Youth on silent wings is flown; Would you know where to seek a blessing so Graver years come rolling on. rare? PRIOR. Go drag the lone sea-you may find him there. Thrice happy he whose downy age had been J. K. PAULDING: Old Man's Ca~rousal. Reclaim'd by scourges from the prime of sin, That dew, that bless'd my youth,- And, early season'd with the taste of truth, Her holy love, her truth, Remembers his Creator in his youth. Her spirit of devotion, and the tears FRANCIS QUARLES. YO UTH. 719 My Father, the guide of my youth, Ah! well I mind me of the days, To Thee for direction I fly; Still bright in memory's flattering rays, O grant me Thy light and Thy truth, When all was fair and new; Nor ever Thy presence deny. When knaves were only found in books, My pillar of cloud and of fire, And friends were known by friendly looks, While destined to journey below,- And love was always true! What more can a pilgrim desire, JOHN G. SAXE:.My Boy/Aood. Or Thou in thy goodness bestow? Youth, DR. THOMAS RAFFLES: Trust in God. When thought is speech, and speech is truth. Ah, who, when fading of itself away, SIR WALTER SCOTT. Would cloud the sunshine of his little day i They closed beside the chimney's blaze, Now is the May of life. Careering round! And talk'd and hoped for happier days, Joy wings his feet, joy lifts him from the ground. And lent their spirits' rising glow ROGERS: Human Life. Awhile to gild impending woe: High privilege of youthful time, Friend of my youth! with thee began the love High privilege of youthful time, Woith all the pleasures of our prime! Of sacred song; the wont, in golden dreams, Wth all the pleasures of our prime! SIR WALTER SCOTT: Pokely.'Mid classic realms of splendors past to rove, O'er haunted steep, and by immortal streams, The tear down childhood's cheek that flows Where the blue wave, with sparkling bosom, Is like the dewdrop on the rose: gleams When next the summer breeze comes by Round shores, the mind's eternal heritage, And waves the bush, the flower is dry. Forever lit by memory's twilight beams; SIR WALTER SCOTT: Rokeby. Where the proud dead, that live in storied page, Youth no less becomes Beckon, with awful port, to glory's earlier age. The light and careless livery that it wears, ROBERT C. SANDS: Proemi to Yamoyden. Than settled age his sables and his weeds, The blushing youth their virtuous awe disclose, Importing health and graveness. And from their seats the reverend elders rose. SHAKSPEARE. SANDYS. You'll find a difference For we full many sulmlmer joys Between the promise of his greener days And greenwood sports have shared, And these he masters now. When, free and ever-roving boys, - SHAKSPEARE. The rocks, the streams, we dared! The rocks, the streams, we dared! This cause detain'd me all my flow'ring youth, And as I look upon thy faceWithin a loathsome dungeon there to pine. Back, back, o'er years of ill, SHAKSPEARE. My heart flies to that happy place, Where it is summer still! We were Two lads that thought there was no more beYes, though, like sere leaves on the ground, hind, Our early hopes are strown, Our early hopes are strown, But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And cherish'd flowers lie dead around, And to be boy eternal. And to be boy eternal. And singing birds are flown, SHARSPEARR The verdure is not faded quite, Not mute all tones that thrill; It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood, Not mute all tones that thrill; A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen. For, seeing, hearing thee to-night, S-HAKSPEARE. In my heart'tis summer still! EPES SARGENT: Summer in the I/fart. My tender youth was never yet attaint Ah me! those joyous days are gone! iWith any passion of inflaming love. I little dreamt, till they were flown, How fleeting were the hours-! In her youth For, lest he break the pleasing spell, There is a prone and speechless dialect, Time bears for youth a muffled bell, Such as moves men. And hides his face in flowers. SHAKSPEARE. 720 YO UTH. Young though thou art, thine eye Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen, Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves. Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth SHAKSPEARE. Thrust from the company of awful men. His years but young, but his experience old. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Our own precedent passions do instruct us Hear sweet discourse, converse with noble men, What levity's in youth. SI-AKSPEARE. And be, in eye of every exercise, Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. The gravity and stillness of your youth He wears the rose of youth upon his cheek. The world hath noted, and your name is great SHAKSPEARE. In mouths of wisest censure. Youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all In the morn and liquid dew of youth That happiness and prime can happy call. Contagious blastments are most imminent. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE. When I consider every thing that grows A young man married is a man that's marr'l. Holds in perfection but a little moment, SHAKSPEARE. That this huge state presenteth nought but shows, For in my youth I never did apply Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood: When I perceive that men as plants increase, Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Cheer'd and check'd even by the selfsame sky; Frosty but kindly. SHAKSPEARE. Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their brave state out of memory; Briefly die their joys Briefly die oy Then the conceit of this inconstant stay That place them on the truth of girls and boys. SHASPEARE. Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, Where wasteful time debateth with decay, Even so by love the young and tender wit To change your day of youth to sullied night; Is turund to folly. - SHAIRSPEARE. And, all in war with Time, for love of you, So wise, so young; they say, do ne'er live long. As he takes fiom you, I engraft you new. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE: Sonnet XV. Crabbed age and youth Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, Cannot live together; And delves the parallels in beauty's brow. Youth is full of pleasance, SHARSPEARE: Sonnet LX. Age is full of care: Youth like summer morn, Around the throne of God in heaven, Age like winter weather; Thousands of children stand; Youth like summer brave, Children whose sins are all forgiven, Age like winter bare. A holy, happy band, Youth is full of sport, Singing glory, glory, glory. Age's breath is short; ZAge's breath is short; In flowing robes of spotless white Youth is nimble, age is lame: See every one array'd: Youth is hot and bold, Dwelling in everlasting light, Age is weald, and cold; And joys that never fade, Youth is wild, and age is tanme. Singing glory, glory, glory. Age, I do abhor thee, Youth, I do adore thee; Once they were little things like you, Oh, my love, my love is young! And lived on earth below, Age, I do defy thee: And could not praise as now they do Oh, sweet shepherd, hie thee; The Lord who loved them so, For methinks thou stay'st too long. Singing glory, glory, glory. SHAKSPEARE: Passionate Pilgrimt, X. MRS. ANNE SHEPHERD: For a Sunday-Schooi. YO UTH. 7 21 Sighing, I see yon little troop at play, And if the mist, retiring slow, By sorrow yet untouch'd, unhurt by care, Roll round its wavy white, While free and sportive they enjoy to-day, He thinks the morning vapours hide "' Content and careless of to-morrow's fare." Some beauty from his sight. O happy age! when Hope's unclouded ray Lights their green path, and prompts their But when behind the western clouds Departs the fading day, simple mirth; HEow wearily the traveller Ere yet they feel the thorns that lurking lay Pursues his evening way! To wound the wretched pilgrims of the earth, Making them rue the hour that gave them Sorely along the craggy road birth His painful footsteps creep, And threw them on a world so full of pain, And slow, with many a feeble pause, Where prosperous folly treads on patient He labours up the steep. worth, And to deaf pride misfortusne pleads in vain! And if the mists of night close round, Ah! for their future fate how many fears They fill his soul with fear; Oppress my heart and fill mine eyes with tears! He dreads some unseen precipice, CHARI OTTE SMTITH: Some hidden danger near. Hapupiness of C/zild/zood. So cheerfully does youth begin There was a time in the gay spring of life Life's pleasant morning stage; When every note was as the mounting lark's, Alas! the evening traveller feels Merry and cheerful, to salute the morn; The fears of wary age. When all the day was made of melody. ROBERT SOUTHEY: YOUt/z and Age. SOUTHERN: Fate of Conua. Now past for me are April's madding hours, And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Whose freshness feeds the vanity of youth; Some harshness show, A spring so utterly devoid of truth, All vain asperities Idclay by day Whose fruit is error, and deceit whose flowers. Would wear away, Gone, too, for me, is summer's sultry time, Till the smooth temper of my age should be When idly, reasonless, I sow'd these seeds, Like the high leaves upon the holly-tree. Yielding to manhood charms,- now proving weeds, And as when all the summer trees are seen With gaudy colours, poisoning as they climb. So bright and green, And well I fancy that they both are flown, The holly leaves a sober hue display And that beyond their tyrant reach I'm Less bright than they; placed: But wheir the bare and wintry woods we see, But yet I know not if I yet must taste What then so cheerful as the holly-tree? Their vain attacks: my thoughts still make me So serious should my youth appear among own The thoughtless throng; That fruits of weeds deceitful do not die, So would I seem among the young and gay When feelings sober not as years pass by. More grave than they; Fronm the Portzguese of M. nE F. E. SouzA: That in my age as cheerful I might be translated by ADAMSON. As the green winter of the holly-tree. I drop my idle pen and hark ROIIBER~T SOUTHEY: Tue Holly- 7Tree. And catch the faintest sound: With cheerful step the traveller ~ She must be playing hide-and-seek Pursues his early way In shady nooks around; When first the dimly-dawning east She'll come and climb my chair again, Reveals the rising day. And peep my shoulders o'er: I hear a stifled laugh,-but no! He bounds along his craggy road, She cometh never more! He hastens up the height, And all he sees and all he hears I waited only yesternight, Administer delight. The evening service read, 46 7 22 YO rUTH. And linger'd for my idol's kiss Thus lovelier is the flower whose full-blown Before she went to bed; leaves Forgetting she had gone before Perfume the air, and more than orient ray In slumbers soft and sweet, The sun's meridian glories blaze and warm. A monument above her head, TORQUATO TASSO (Lonzdon Mlagazinze). And violets at her feet. I feel the rush of waves that round me rise, R. H. STODDARD: fozlse/o/d Dirfge. The tossing of my boat upon the sea; From earliest infancy my heart was thine; Few sunbeams linger in the stormy skies, With childish feet I trod thy temple-aisles; And youth's bright shore is lessening on the Not knowing tears, I worshipp'd thee with lee smiles, BAYARD TAYLOR. Or if I ever wept, it was with joy divine! Expand the passions of thy heart in youth; By day and night, on land, and sea, and air,- Fight thy love-battles whilst thy heart is strong I saw thee everywhere! And wounds heal kindly. An April frost A voice of greeting from the wind was sent; Is sharp, but kills not; sad October's storm The mists enfolded me with soft white arms; Strikes when the juices and the vital sap The birds did sing to lap me in content; Are ebbing from the leaf. The rivers wore their charms; HENRY TAYLOR. And every little daisy in the grass Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing Did look up in my face, and smile to see me purpose runs, pass! R. H. STODDARD: And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the R. I-I. STODoARD: process of the suns. y>,lz to tZe BeauthW?. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of "Take care of the children!" where growing his youthful joys, In August are vintage and corn, Though the deep heart of existence beat forWho gazes and thinks of the sowing ever like a boy's? Of sweet little April with scorn? TENNYSON: Locksle y flail. Small things may be jeer'd by the scoffer, I'd say we suffer and wore strive Yet drops, that in buttercups sleep, Not less nor more as men than boys; Make showers: and what would he offerds at forty-five, With grizzled beards at forty-five,. But sand, as a wall folr the deep? As erst at twelve i corduroys. As erst at twelve in corduroys. "Take care of the children!" —nor wasted THACI(ERAY: Afiiscel7alnies. Is care on the weakest of these: s care on the weakest of these: hat transport to retrace our early plays, The culturer the product has tasted, Our early bliss, when each thing joy supplied, And fotund it the palate to please. The woods, the mountains, and the warbling There are sheaves pushing higher and faster, maze And age has more branches and roots,- Of the wild brooks! But dearer are none to the Master - THOMSON. Than Childhood in blossoms and fruits. And let th' aspiring youth beware of Love, WILLIAM B. TAPPAN: T'/e Sztnzazy-Sc/oo[.1 Of the smooth glance beware; for'tis too late Thy unripe youth seem'd like the purple rose, When on his-heart the torrent softness pours: That to the warm ray opens not its breast, Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame But, hiding still within its mossy vest, Dissolves in air away; while the fond soul, Dares not its virgin beauties to disclose; Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, Or like Aurora, when the heaven first glows,- Still paints the illusive form; the kindling grace; For likeness from above will suit thee best,- Th' enticing smile; the modest-seeming eye, When she with gold kindles each mountain Beneath whose beauteous bleams, belying heaven, crest, Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and death: And o'er the plains her pearly mantle throws. - And still false-warbling in his cheated ear, No loss fiom time thy riper age receives, Her siren voice, enchanting, draws him on Nor can young beauty deck'd with art's display To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. Rival the native graces of thy form: THOMSON: SDrznSg. YOUTH. 723 Days of my youth, ye have glided away: Such was the bright and genial flow Hairs of my youth, ye are frosted and gray: Of life with us —ten years ago! Eyes of my youth, your keen sight is no more: ALARIC A. WATTS: Ten Years Ago. Cheeks of my youth, ye are furrow'd all o'er: ~Youth's a soft scene, but trust her not; Strength of my youth, all your vigor is gone: 6u~~~~~~.. Her airy moments swift as thought Thoughts of my youth, your gay visions are Slide off the slippery sphereo flown. flown. Slide off the slippery sphere; Moons with their months make hasty rounds, Days of my youth, I wish not your recall: The sun has pass'd his vernal bounds, Hairs of my youth, I'm content ye should fall: And wheels about his year. Eyes of my youth, you much evil have seen: DR. ISAAC WATTS. Cheeks of my youth, bathed in tears you have been: Hast thou not seen, impatient boyHast thou not read-the solemn truth Thoughts of my youth, you have led me astray: That gray experience writes for giddy youth Strength of my youth, why lament your decay? ery or t On every mortal joy? Days of my age, ye will shortly be past: " Pleasure must be dash'd with pain:" Pains of my age, yet awhile you can last: And yet with heedless haste Joys of my age, in true wisdcm delight: The thirsty boy repeats the taste, Eyes of my age, be religion your light: Nor hearkens to despair, but tries the bowl Thoughts of my age, dread ye not the cold sod: again. Hopes of my age, be ye fix'd on your God. The rills of pleasure never run sincere ST. GEORGE TUCKIER: Days of Mly Youth. (Earth has no unpolluted spring); From the cursed soil some dang'rous taint they Bright image of the early years bear: When glow'd my cheek as red as thou, So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a And life's dark throng of cares and fears sting. Were swift-wing'd shadows o'er my sunny DR. ISAAC TTS: E Dr. ISAAC WATTS: Earth anzd Heaven. brow! Happy the youth that finds the bride Thou blushest from the painter's page, Happy the youth that fins the bride Robed in the milnmic tints of art; ~Whose birth is to his own allied, But Nature's hand in youth's green age The sweetest joy of life: With fairer hues first traced thee on my heart. Fetter'd to minds of different moulds The morning's blush, she made it thine,ternal strife The morn's sweet breath, she gave it thee; DR. ISAAC WATTS: Indian Philosopher. And in thy look, my Columbine! Each fond remember'd spot she bade me see. I love the soul that dares JONES VERY: To the Painted Colulmbine. Tread the temptations of his years Beneath his youthful feet. Then Youth came forward: his bright-glancing Be. ISAAC TTS: tze Dszz. DR. ISAAC WATTS: The Disdain. eye Seem'd a reflection of the cloudless sky; Ah! who can say, however fair his view, The dawn of passion, in its purest glow, Through what sad scenes his path may lie? Crimson'd his cheek, and beam'd upon his brow, Let careless youth its seeming joys pursue, Giving expression to his blooming face, Soon will they learn to scan with thoughtful And to his fragile form a manly grace; eye His voice was harmony, his speech was truth:- The illusive past and dark futurity. Time lightly laid his hand upon the youth. H. KIRKE WHITE. KATHERINE AUGUSTA WARE: Marhs of Time. Light to thy path, bright creature! I would charm Youth and its thousand dreams were ours, Thy being, if I could, that it should be Feelings we ne'er can know again; Ever as now thou dreamest, and flow on, Unwither'd hopes, unwasted powers, Thus innocent and beautiful, to heaven. And frames unworn by mortal pain: N. P. WILLIS. 724 IYO0UTH. I love to look on a scene like this, There was a time when meadow, grove, and Of wild and careless play, sa&fg, -,' $x va'-X, And persuade myself that I am not old, The earth, and every common sight, And my locks are not yet gray; To me did seem For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart, Apparell'd in celestial light, And makes his pulses fly, The glory and the freshness of a dream. To catch the thrill of a happy voice It is not now as it hath been of yore:And the light of a pleasant eye. Turn wheresoe'er I may, N. P. WILLIS: Saturtiday Afferzoon. By night or day, How gayly is at first begun' I The things which I have seen I now can see Our life's uncertain race! no more. Whilst yet that sprightly morning sun, The rainbow comes and goes, With which we just set out to run,And lovely is the rose; Enlightens all the place. The moon doth with delight How smiling the world's prospect lies, Look round her when the heavens are bare: How tempting to go through! Waters on a starry night Not Canaan to the prophet's eyes, Are beautiful and fair; From Pisgah, with a sweet surprise, The sunshine is a glorious birth:Did more inviting show. But yet I know, where'er I go, How soft the first ideas prove That there hath pass'd away a glory fromn the Which wander through our minds! earth. How full the joys, how free the love, WORDSWORTH W~hich does that early season move, Intimalions of T1mmortality fr'om Z ecollections As flow'rs the western winds! of Ear ly/ COlild/ool. iANNlE, COUNTESS OF WICNcEISsEA: 1Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, L fye's Poogress. But to be young was very Heaven. What is youth?-A dancing billow, WORDSWORTH: Thle P:relude. Winds behind, and rocks before! WORDSWORTH. Self-flatter'd, unexperienced, high in hope, When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamOur birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: ers gay, The soul that rises with us, our life's Star, We, We cut our cable, launch into the world,. Hath had elsewhere its setting, Hath ad elsewhere its setting, And fondly dream each wind and star our And cometh fiom afar: fi lend. Not in entire forgetfulness, YOUNG: Arzt ltToZgits. And not in utter darkness, But trailing clouds of glory, do we come Beautiful as sweet! From God, who is our home: And young as beautiful! and soft as young! Heaven lies about us in our infancy. And gay as soft! and innocent as gay! WORDSWORTH: ztizmations of Immoltalhity. YOUNG: NsgzSt Thozghts. ZEAL. 2 5 ZEAL. And weave delay, the better hour is near That shall remunerate thy toils severe, Live to do good; but not with thought to win, oo n rno ki o By peace for Afric, fenced with British laws. From man return of any kindness done; m o n ss Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love Remember Him who died on cross for sin, he me erFrom all the just on earth, and all the bless'd The merciful, the meek, rejected One: above. When He was slain for crime of doing good, above. COWPER,: T0 WVilliamz PWi'beiforce, Esq., I792. Canst thou expect return of gratitude? Do good to all; but while thou servest best, And now, philanthropy thy rays divine And at thy greatest cost, nerve thee to hear, Dart round the globe, from Zembla to the line; When thine own heart with anguish is opprest, O'er each dark prison plays the cheering light, The cruel taunt, the cold averted air, Like northern lustres o'er the vault of night; From lips which thou hast taught in hope to Frol reall to realm, with cross or crescent pray, crowl'd, And eyes whose sorrows thou hast wiped away. Where'er mankind and misery are found, O'er burning sands, deep waves, or wilds of Still do thou good; but for His holy sake snow, Who died for thine; fixing thy purpose ever Thy Howard journeying seeks the house of woe. High as His throne no wrath of man can shake: Down many a winding step to dungeons dank, So shall He own thy generous endeavour, Where anguish wails aloud, and fetters clank; And take thee to His conqueror's glory up, To caves bestrew'd with many a mouldering When thou hast shared the Saviour's bitter cup. bone, Do naught but good; for such the noble strife And cells whose echoes only learn to groan; Of virtue is,'gainst wrong to venture love, Where no kind bars a whispering friend disclose, Of virtue is,'gainst wrong to venture love, And for thy foe devote a brother's life, No sunbeam enters, and no zephyr blows, And for thy foe devote a brother's life, C He treads, unemulous of fame or wealth,'et atr m b Profuse of toil, and prodigal of health. Brave for the truth, to fiercest insult meek, Profuse of toil, and prodigal of health. ERASMUS DARWIN: In mercy strong, in vengeance only weak. Philanthropi of Mr. toward. DR. GEORGE W. BETHUNE: /of Mr. Howard. Live to Do Good. Nothing but the name of zeal' appears No wild enthusiast ever yet could rest'Twixt our best actions and the worst of theirs. Till half mankind were like himself possess'd. SIR J. DENHA1M. COWPER. A311 the rich mines of learning ransack'd are The-hand that slew till it could slay no more To furnish ammunition for this war; Was glued to the sword-hilt with Indian gore; Uncharitable zeal our reason whets, Their king, as justly seated on his throne And double edges on our passion sets. As e'er imperial Philip on his own, SIR J. DENHAM. Died by the sentence of a shaven priest For scorning what he taught them to detest. For zeal like hers, her servants were to show, COWPER. She was the first, where need required to go; Herself the foundress and attendant too. Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain, DRYDEN. Hears thee, by cruel men and impious, call'd Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose th' enthrall'd Shame of change, and fear of future ill; From exile, public sale, and slavery's chain. And zeal, the blind conductor of the will. Friend of the poor, the wrong'd, the fetter- DRYDEN. gall'd, Fe galr not lest such as thinde be vain! Compute the gains of his ungovern'd zeal: Fea not lest laour such as thie e ain! Ill suits his cloth the praise of railing well. Thou hast achieved a part; hast gain'd the DRYDEN. ear Of Britain's senate to thy glorious cause; Distemper'd zeal, sedition, canker'd hate, Hope smiles, joy springs, and, though cold No more shall vex the church and tear the state. caution pause, DRYDEN. 726, ZEA4L. A numerous host of dreaming saints succeed, And your warm tears fall upon it,Of the true old enthusiastic breed They will stir in their quiet sleep,'Gainst form and order they their power em- And the green blades rise the quicker, ploy,- Perchance, for the tears you weep. Nothing to build, and all things to destroy. DRYIDEN. Then sow,-for the hours are fleeting, And the seed must fall to-day; Farewell to earth; my life of sense is o'er, And care not what hands shall reap it, My heart is changed, I feel my bonds untied; Or if you shall have pass'd away And, casting every thought impure aside, Before the waving corn-fields My guilty course abandon and deplore. Shall gladden the sunny day. Fallacious leaders I obey no more; Sow, and look onward, upward, I follow thee, refuse all other guide: And ne'er did shipwreck'd bark with broken side Where, in spite of the coward's doubting, Or your own heart's trembling fears, Loose from the shelves more anxious for a shore. You shall reap in joy the harvest And since I spent with risk of mortal harm You have sown to-day in tears. My life and dearest hours, nor gather'd thence Houzseho'd W Zods.- "Sozwilg nlid Reaping. " Profit or fruit, I crowd my sail to thee. Lord, I am turn'd! now let thy gracious arm And many a lowly friend have I, Sustain me; and my future service be Or sick or sad of heart, With zeal proportion'd to mly past offence. Vho hails my coming steps with joy, Froom the Italianz of GABRIEL FIAMMIA. And sighs when I depart. In his duty prompt at ev'ry call, No day is ever long; and night He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, Some gentle spirit brings, for all: To whisper thoughts of other worlds And as a bird each fond endearment tries And of diviner things. To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, Zn,And if, when evening shadows fall, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, I sad or lonely feel, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. kneel me down in that same room Beside the bed where parting life was laid, Where we four used to kneel. And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd, The rev'rend champion stood. At his control And there I say the evening prayer Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; We four were wont to say: Comfort came down the trembling wretch to The very place hath power to charm raise, All gloomier thoughts away. And his last falt'ring accents whisper'd praise. I have a thousand memories cear, GOLDSMITH: Deserted Village. And quiet joys untoldl; For God but talkes his gifts away, Sow wirth a generous hand, Sow.' agneoTo give them back tenfold. Pause not for toil or pain,,oulsehLold Pgords.~ " S3ri2fsoS itZ tjle DeserLt." Weary not through the heat of summer, Weary not through the cold spring rain; Right well fought all the Frenchmen who fought But wait till the autumn comes for France to-day; For the sheaves of golden grain. And many a lordly banner God gave them for a Scatter the seed, and fear not; prey. A table will be spread; But we of the religion have borne us best in A table will be spread; What matter if you are too weary And the good Lord of Rosny hath ta'en the To eat your hard-earn'd bread: cornet white. Sow while the earth is broklen, or thle hu ry s be, Our own true Maximilian the cornet white hath For the hungry must be fed. ta'en, Sow,-while the seeds are lying The cornet white with crosses black, the flag In the warm earth's bosom deep, of false Lorraine. ZEAZL. 727 Up with it high! unfurl it Wide! that.all the host The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, may know Unless the deed go with it: from this moment How God hath humbled the proud house which The very firstlings of my heart shall be wrought his church such woe. The firstlings of my hand. Then on the ground, while trumpets sound their SHAKSPEARE. loudest point of war, luetpit a, The Master hath need of the reapers, Fling the red shreds, a footcloth meet for Henry of Navarre ~~And, mourner, He calleth to thee: of Navarre! Come out of the valley of sorrow, LORD MACAULAY: Battle of ivry. Look up to the hill-tops, and see Zeal and duty are not slow, |How the fields of the harvest are whitening, But on occasion's forelock watchful wait. How golden and full is the grain: MILTON. Oh, what are thy wants to the summons? And what are thy griefs and thy pain? So shall they build me altars in their zeal, Where knaves shall minister and fools shall The Master hath need of the reapers, kneel; And, idler, He calleth to thee; Where faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell Come out of the mansions of pleasure, Written in may00 tr, and higotry may swtiell From the halls where the careless may be. The sail he spreads for heaven with blasts from Soon the shadows of eve will be falling, hell. With the mists, and the dews, and the rain: MOORE: Lalla, Rooki.e Veiled PropA/et. Oh, what are thy rests and thy follies To the world and the rusts of the grain? Zeal is that pure and heavenly flame The fire of love supplies; The Master hath need of the reapers, While that which often bears the name And, worker, He calleth to thee: Is self in a disguise. Oh, what are the dreams of ambition To the joys that hereafter shall be? True zeal is merciful and mild, There are tokens of storms that are coming,. Can pity and forbear; And Summer is fast on the wane; The false is headstrong, fierce, and wild, Then alas for the hopes of the harvest! And breathes revenge and war. Then alas for the beautiful grain! While zeal for truth the Christian warms, The Master hath need of the reapers, He knows the worth of peace; And He calleth to thee and to me; But self contends for names and forms, Oh, haste, while the winds of the morning Its party to increase. Are blowing so freshly and free; Zeal has attain'd its highest ain, Let the sound of the scythe and the sickle Its elni is satisfied, Re-echo o'er hill-top and plain, If sinners love the Saviour's name; (And gather the sheaves in the garner, Nor seeks it aught beside. For golden and ripe is the grain. JOHN NEWTON.1 By the wounds of that blessed One calling, Rise! for the day is passing, Our Maker, Redeemer, and God; And you lie dreaming on; By the deeds of these reapers now falling,The others have buckled their armour, Of those who sleep under the sod; And forth to the fight have gone: Who, counting their lives as but nothing, A place in the ranks awaits you, Press'd on in the ranks of the host; Each man has some part to play; Who toil'd in the field of the Master, The Past and the Future are looking And, dying, fell dead at their post. In the face of the stern To-day. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. Oh, think of the crowns they are wearing, Resplendent with jewels of light; Tell zeal it lacks devotion. Oh, think of the palms they are bearing, SIR W. RALEIGH. As they walk with the angels in white; 728 ZEAL. Of the beautiful songs they are singing, Press bravely onward! —not in vain Of the shouts that will thrill you above. Your generous trust in human kind; MRS. ARCHBISHIOP THOMSON: The good which bloodshed could iot gain, The MVfaster Hlath Need. Your peaceful zeal shall find. WHITTIER. By these, and the joys that are given, While toiling and weeping below, Some high or humble enterprise of good Of pointing one sinner to heaven, Contemplate, till it shall possess thy mind, Oh, list to the summons, and go Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food, To the fields where the harvests are whitening, And kindle in thy heart a flame refined. For the Summer is fast on the wane, Pray Heaven with firmness thy whole soul to And gather the sheaves in the garner, bind For golden and ripe is the grain. To this thy purpose,-to begin, pursue, MRS. ARCHBISHOP THOMSON: With thoughts all fix'd, and feelings purely The AMzster Hatli Need. kind; Strength to complete, and with delight review, It was a worthy edifying sight, And grace to give the praise where all is ever due. And gives to human-kind peculiar grace, CARILOS WVILCOX: Cudt'efoJ J/feacrhCzo/y.'To see kind hands attending day and night, With tender ministry, from place to place. Rouse to some work of high and holy love, Some prop the head; some from the pallid face And thou an angel's happiness shalt know; Wipe off the faint- cold dews weak nature Shalt bless the earth while in the world above; sheds; The good begun by thee shall onward flow Some reach the healing draught:'the whilst, In many a branching stream, and wider to chase grow; The fear supreme, around their soften'd heads The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours, Some holy man by prayer all-opening HIeaven Thy hands, unsparing and unwearied, sow, dispreads. Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, THOMSON: CastZe of lindolenZe. And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's irnmmortal bowers. Say, does your Christian purpose still proceed CARLOS WILCOX: Cur-e for 1ffelancholy. T' assist in every shape the wretches' need? To free the prisoner from his anxious jail, As thou these ashes, little brook! wilt bear When friends forsake him, and relations fail? Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Or yet with nobler charity conspire Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, To snatch the guilty from eternal fire? Into main ocean they, this deed accursed Has your small squadron firm in trial stood, An emblem yields to friends and enemies, Without preciseness, singularly good? How the bold Teacher's doctrine, sanctified Safe march they on'twixt dangerous extremes By truth, shall spread, throughout the world Of mad profaneness and enthusiast dreams? dispersed. REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, —to Charles Wesley, or WORDSWORTH: the Mfethodists at Oxford, I729. -Eccles. Sonnets.' To Wickiffe..~~~~~~~~ —i-to —--- INDEX OF AUTHORS. Adams, John, 528, 625. Bird, J., 662.: 8, 217, 22I, 223,229,232,234,236, Adamson, John, 7IO, 721. Bird, Robert i., 567, 242, 249, 254, 265, 27I, 280, 253, 287, Addison, Joseph, IS, 20, 25, 33, 40, Blackmore, Sir Richard, 25, 4T, 46, 298, 299, 307, 308, 334, 337, 344, 346, 44, 45, 46, 55, 6i, 62, 70, 88, 94, 99, 92, 91, III, II3, 142, I46, 50, 1533, 347, 355, 356, 363, 364, 372,376, 381, IO5, IIO, III, 123, 138, I40, I4I, 242, 163, 17I, i89, 198, 223, 222, 245, 258, 382, 390, 391, 395,400, 403, 4c6, 412, 243, 145, 150, 155, 156, i6o, 162, 17I, 272, 286, 287, 299, 344, 351, 353, 355, 425, 425, 433, 440, 447, 450,'153, 46 I77, ISo, 289, 298, 202, 202,205, 208, 364, 372, 376, 381, 386, 387, 389, 399, 462, 463, 464, 468, 473, 482, 493, 494, 223, 227, 228, 229, 231, 234, 235,236, 402, 434, 437, 440, 452, 453, 465, 5~6, 496, 500, 515, 521, 546, 547, 556, 562. 242, 246, 251, 254, 257, 258, 262,264, 514, 515, 521, 536, 537, 562, 567, 642, 567, 587, 607, 622, 654, 655, 663, 664, 265, 266, 278, 280, 285,286, 287, 294, 68i. 68i, 688, 699, 705. 298, 299, 306, 307, 334, 336, 346, 350, Blair, Rohert, 37, 59, 82, 223, 17, 352, 353, 355, 364, 372, 381, 387, 389, 242, 346, 532, 567, 607. Campbell, Calder, 68I. 39I; 393, 49, 412, 415, 425, 430, 433, Blamire, Susanna, 346. Campbell, Thomas, 20, 47, 62, 7T, 124, 434, 437, 439, 440, 442, 450, 453,463, Bloomfield, Robert, 249, 607. 246, 77, 89, 206, 249, 254, 265, 347, 468, 473, 476, 478, 48, 494, 500, 505, Boccaccio, 704. 356, 391, 42I, 433, 450, 473, 452, 535, 5o6, 514, 520, 521, 528, 53I, 544, 562, Boethius, A. 8. S., 425. 547, 567, 607, 6o8, 6i9, 664, 706 565, 590, 594, 595, 6o6, 634, 648, 66I, Bogart, Elizabeth, 592. Canning, Georgce, 47, 208, 473. 700. Boileau, N,;[`'33, 196. Carew, Lady Elizabeth, 62, 63,699. Akenside, Mlarikc, 46, 2o3, 105, 283, Bonar, Horatio, 299, 622. Carew, Thomas, 224, 287, 208, 294, 307, 355, 476, 546, 6O5. Bourne, Vincent, 620, 634, 662, 688. 3o8, 337, 450, 5Ii, 525, 583, 664. Aldrich, James, 531. Bowdler, John, 654. Carey, Henry, 627 Aleardi, Aleardo, 700. Bowles, Caroline, 390, 624. Cary, Alice, 544, 567, 583, 6-5. All the Year Round, 6oi, 606, 625, BowlIes, William L., 555, 635, 704. Cary, Phmbe, 542, 582, 583, 655, 661. 626, 634, 648, 653, 66i, 68o, 686, 700, Bowring, Sir John, 154, 299, 344, 446, Carlton, Thomas, 6o8. 701, 702, 703. 48i. Carter, Elizabeth, 63, 642. Allston, Washington, 703. Bradstreet, Anne, 521, 537, 555, 567, Cartwsright, WVilliam, 308, 46o. Alonzo of Aragon, 83. 688. Chandler, Caroline H., 689. Ancrum, Earl of, 496. Bramnston, James, 2 50, 403. Chandler, Elizabeth M., 608S. Arbuthnot, John, 82, 207, 330, 425, IBrent, John, 662. Chapman, George, 25, 33, 72, 2.1, 2385, 462, 582, 607. Brooke, Lord, 229, 283, 481. 236, 276, 356, 382, 395, 407, 443, 4582, Armstrong, John, 42, 182, 245, 254, Broolce, Henry, 307, 395. 568. 268, 344, 364, 481, 555, 596. Brooks, James G., 555, 704~ Chapone, Hester, 643. Arnold, Edwin, 66i, 68i. Brooks, Mlaria, 525, 537, 567, 596, 654, Chancer, CGeoffiey, 26, I98, 294, 467, Arnold, Matthew, 66i. 662. 627, 664, 665. Arundel, Countess of, 653. Brooks,:Mary E., 622. Chesterfield, Lord, 16I. Ascham, Roger, 123. Broome, William, 20, 438. Churcbiil, Charles, o02, Til4, 250, 235, Atherstone, Edmund, 687. Brown, Thomnas, 662. I76, 267, 334, 352, 392, 404, 415, 440, Atterbury, Francis, io5. Browne, WVilliam, 236. 460, 583, 619, 682, 639. Augusti ne, St., 289. Browning, Mrs. E. B., 4, 95,23, 140, Cibber, Colley, 172. Aytouu, Sir Robert, 66i. 163, 223, 236, 307; 412, 433, 482, 493, Clark, Willis G., 512, 623, 655, 726. 496, 500, 5o6, 526, 531, 544, 546, 582, Claudius, 246. Bacon, Francis, 687. 602, 605, 607, 622, 642, 654, 663, 688, Cleaveland, John, 35, 45, 63, 82,:2.1, Bailey, Philip James, 236, 248, 554, 704~ 289, 275, 36, 395, 402, 463, 563. 582, 652, 687, 689, 703. Bryant, William C., I'23, 55, 525, 567, Codrington, Christopher, 38. Baillie, Joanna, 82, I23, 246, 25 o8, 583, 587, 635, 688, 704. Colke, Sir Edwardl 287 217, 242, 352, 376, 446, 447, 607, 66i. Brytdges, Sir S. E., 47, 254, 423, 698. Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 47, 72, 124, Barbauld, Letitia, 299, 376, 5ii, 642, Buckingham, Dulke of, 307, 450, 528, I62, I80, 20I 208, 234 24257, 299, 66i. 642, 648, 688. 308, 425, 433, 447, 4820 512, 537, 636, Baron, Robert, 355. Bulfinch, S; S., 602. 693, 698, 7c6, 707 Barrett, E. S., 662. Bulwer, Sir E. L., 47, 448. Collins, Ann, 655. Barton, Bernard, 6o6. Burke, Edmund, 70, 71, 355. Collins, Wiiam, 47, 5~, 236, 254, Basse, Williarm, 46. Burns, James D., 562. 272, 344, 364, 38391, 395, 450, 542, Baxter, Iichard, 429, 555, 687. 1Burns, Robert, 4I, 83,95, 220, 223, T79, 247, 596. Bayley, Thomas H., 626, 635. 223, 232, 307, 336, 346, 406, 433, 466, Coireve, Vmiliamr, 4 2 I01, I 9 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Conrv, TVlim qz, ~5 ~,~9 Beattie, james, 105, I71, 217, 284, 331, 567, 627, 663, 698, 705. 299, 308, 337, 164, 387, 412, 4.1, 56, 336, 344, 355, 364, 372, 376, 434, 449, Butler, Frances A. K., 39o, 635, 654, 596. 462, 473, SI5, 592 663, 705. Conrad, Robert T., 698. Beattie, William, 566, 587. Butler, Samuel, 35, 42, 43, 45, 55, 6i, Cook, Eliza, 362, 6T,, 635, 689, 707. Beaumont, Francis, 50, 229, 242, 481, 62, 83,91, 1o, 113, 114, 146, 150, 177, Cooper, Thomnas, 665. 555, 688. i8o, 287, 202, 226, 251, 254, 264, 268, Corbet, Iichard, 5, So3. Beaumont, Joseph, 555. 271,287, 294, 326, 307, 33I, 336, 337, Comusall 3ar 8, 398 5o6 6 0 Beaumont and Fletcher, 45, 95, 262, 342, 333, 380, 382, 383, 386, 387, 399 Cottle Joseph, 655. 477, 481, 566, 662. 400, 402, 403, 412, 45, 437, 432, 533 Cottois Nathaniel, 249, 337 44%0 449. Beddocs, T. L., 703. 545, Ar2, 594, 607, 648, 67i, 658. Cosley, Abrlhm, 20 47, 63, 7, Bembo, Pietro, 704. Byrd, WVilliam, 705. 99, IO, 1, 24 4,, 4, 169 Benjamin, Park, 555, 602, 635. Byron, Lord, I8, 20, 40, 47, 55, 62, 71, 77, i86, 80, 198, 202, 26, 208, 27, Bennett, W. C., 626. 82, 83, 86, 99, 203, 124, 120, 223, i24, 22, 230, 36, 42, 248, 2i, 254, 2 ~entley*, Rich~ard, 296.: 40, 246, 254, 295, 256, i58, 262, 263, 26i, 273, 27, 27, 2 256, 7 2c,6 Bethune, George W., 362, 627, 725. 264, 167, 171, 282, 297, 205, 206, 207, 300 308, 342; 356,'63,136, 82,?07, (729) 730 INVDEX OF A U[THORS. 400, 407, 409, 412, 415, 430, 449, 482, 483, 5o8, 520, 528, 533, 537, 562, 596, Follen, Eliza L., 587. 485, 496, 506, 512, 515, 537, 56i, 568, 620, 649, 666, 690. Ford, John, 334, 7IO~ 587, 6o8, 649. Dorset, Lord, 15o, 255, 465, 483, 608, Fountain, John, 225. Cowper, William, 4I, 47, 56, 71, 83, 649. Francis, Philip, 209, 4I3, 667. I02, i03, io6, 120, I24, 24o, 150, I56, Dowland, John, 623. Franklin, Benjamin, 667, 7io. 176, i86, 296, 097, 206, 207, 208, 222, Drake, Joseph R., i67, 568. Frothingham, N. L., 57I. 228, 236, 249, 258, 263,268, 275, 283, Drayton, Michael, 39, 71, 95, I04, 089, Frowde, Philip, 314, 451. 287, 298, 30, 334, 337, 347, 356, 362, 298, 236, 237, 363, 412, 446, 464, 508, Fuller, Thomas, 526. 364, 387, 393, 400, 45,422,425, 434, 52, 528, 636, 690. 460, 462, 482, 494, 497, 500oo, 528, 531, Drummond, George H., 629. Gallagher, William D., 534, 71. 532, 544, 547, 552, 554, 556, 562, 568, Drummond, William, 483, 497. Gar9do, P. A. C., 710. 572, 583, 590, 593, 594, 596, 605, 608, Dryden, John, I7, I8, 20, 21, 26, 27, 28, Garrick David,'44, 274, 387. 609, 623, 627, 628, 636, 637, 643, 645, 29, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 3, 39, 40, Garth, Sir Samuel, 29, 74, 89, 028, 1~~~~~~~~9 3 3 4,3,6, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 649, 655, 656, 658, 689, 69o, 639, 707, 43, 44, 45, 46, 48, 49, 56, 59 6, 63, 172, I76, 203, 232,275,314, 331, 338, 708, 725. 64, 65, 71, 72, 73, 74, 8i, 82, 83, 84, 357, 396, 404, 436, 455, 461, 474, 493, Crabbe, George, 19: 20, 84, 99, III, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 94, 95, 96, 97, 512, 522, 538, 667. II4, 20, 121, 268, 287, 334 347 39, 98, 99, 03, 02, 205, ic6, og, iio, Gay, John, 29, 39, 43, 49, 56, 59, 65, 3901 404, 627, 636, 643, 665, 690. III, 112, 114, 115, I16, 21, 122, 25, 74, 84, 92, 96, 102, 1205, io6, 228, 044, Crashaw, Richard, 45, 71, 87, 022, 24, 126, 127, I28, I38, I39, 240, 140, 242, 25I, I56, i58, 164, 176,183, 187, I90, 289,236,242,255,308,356, 364, 409, 143, 44, 246, 147, 050, 151, 054, 155, 19i, i98, 203, 209,214, 216, 223,238, 429, 434, 444, 458, 482, 483, 547, 596, i56, I57, i58, 259, 16o, 16i, 162, 263, 259, 261,264, 271, 290, 295, 296, 30I, 609. 264, 367, 263, 073, 07I, 272, 175, 276, 304,33, 338, 354, 357, 362, 363, 366, Crawford, Robert, 458, 467. 277, 178, i8o, i81, 282, 828, 186, 871 376, 383, 387,404,422, 433 434, 438 Creech, Thomas, 38, 45, 47, 59, 88, 99, I83, I9o, 296, i97, 298, 200, 20i, 202, 439, 463, 470, 479, 485, 4992 528, 545, II2, 146, i6o, 263, 202, 223, 287, 288, 203, 206, 207, 209, 203, 224, 216, 217, 570, 592, 593, 597, 6I2, 630, 637, 650, 364, 372, 400, 477, 528. 228, 229, 220, 22, 222,223,224, 226, 667. Crewdson, Jane, 656. 227, 228, 229,230, 232, 234, 235, 237, Gifford, William, IoO, 239, 400, 409, Croly, George, 682. 243, 245, 246, 248, 24), 250, 250, 255, 593. Crowne, John, 337, 6o8, 656, 690. 258, 259, 260, 26i, 262, 263, 264, 265, Glanville, John, 274, 338. Cumberland, Richard, 38, 202, 452, 266, 267, 269, 270, 27i, 272, 273, 274, Glover, Richard, 255. 500, 643. 275, 277, 278, 280, 281, 283, 284, 285, Goethe, 698. Cunningham, Allan, 236, 382. 286, 288, 289, 290, 294, 295, 296, 297, Goffe, Thomas, 225. 298, 300, 30I, 305, 309, 303, 3II, 312, Goldsmith, Oliver, 27, i8, 22, 29, 74, Da Filicaja, V., 7io. 323, 324, 330, 330, 334, 337, 338, 342, 82, 92, 96, ic6, i28, I55, i61, 176, Dana, Mary S. B., 628. 343, 344, 347, 349, 350, 352, 353, 354, I83, 9gI, 203, 209, 225,226, 249,255, Dana, Richard H., 628. 356, 357, 362, 363, 365, 366, 372, 373, 290, 296, 330, 331, 338, 347, 373, 385, Daniel, Samuel, 18, 33, 63, io6, II4, 375, 376, 381, 382, 383, 385, 386, 387, 387, 388, 396, 407, 4IO, 417, 422,423, 024, 242, 046, i56, o83, 057, 202, 230, 389, 390, 390, 392, 393, 394, 395, 396, 424, 430, 430, 449, 452, 455,495,497, 278, 288, 294, 364, 395, 405, 405, 422, 397, 398, 399, 400, 402, 403, 404, 405, 512, 563, 637, 657, 665, 7Io0, 726. 43I, 473, 556, 699. 406, 407, 409, 412, 413, 4i6, 427, 421, Gould, Hannah F., 637. Darwin, Erasmus, 542, 547, 725~ 422, 423, 425, 426, 429, 430, 432, 433, Grahame, James, 296, 455, 459, 668. Davenant, Sir William, 33, 45, 7I, 434, 436, 437, 438, 439, 440, 44, 442, Grainger, James, 497. 269, 255, 27I, 276, 280, 288,349,450, 444, 446, 447, 448, 449, 450, 45I, 452, Graoville, George, 44, 49, 56, 57, 65, 500, 506, 532, 56, 665,666. 453, 454, 458, 459, 46o, 462, 462, 463, 87, 90, 92, ic6,;i6, 140, I47, 062, Davies, Sir John, 37, 82, 99, 1o02, II2, 464, 465, 466, 467, 468, 469, 470, 470, 264, 072, 175, i81, 186, 287, 9I1, 196, 124, I46, I55, I6o, 064, 169, I75, I89, 473, 474, 476, 477, 478, 479, 480, 483, 200, 224, 248, 249, 250, 290, 30I, 304, 207, 208, 222, 246, 265, 267, 268, 277, 484, 485, 495, 497,499, 500, 508, 509, 3I5, 338, 366, 373,377, 388, 404, 413, 283, 288, 300, 305, 308, 331, 343, 35,, 510, 512, 5I5, 506, 520, 522, 525, 526, 434, 442, 463, 466, 479, 522, 528, 529, 364, 372, 382, 390, 400, 407, 405, 423, 528, 53I, 532, 533, 534, 538, 543, 544, 533, 538, 552, 584, 597, 612,668, 691, 432, 440, 445, 465, 477, 506, 507, 5o8, 545, 546, 547, 552, 554, 556, 562, 563, 7IO. 5I2, 526, 537, 543, 556, 568, 583, 602, 565, 568, 569, 570, 582, 583, 584, 587, Gray, May Anne, 552, 7IO. 619, 643, 649. 590, 592, 594, 595, 596, 597, 6o5, 638, Gray, Thomas, 86, 028, 059, i6i, 264, Dawes, Rufus, 708. 609, 61o, 611, 620, 624, 629, 636, 637, 229, 238, 245,264, 305, 330, 396, 463, De Avila, S. T., 644. 644, 650, 656, 666, 667, 690, 698, 708, 485,495, 497, 530, 557, 584, 588, 644, De Brunne, Robert, 666. 709, 725, 726. 7IO, 72I. De Foe, Daniel, 98. Dryden and Lee, 434, 667. Green, Francis H., 534, 637. De Manrique, Coplas, 693. Du Bartas, 644. Greene, Robert, 468. Delta, 347, 493. Dukle, Richard, 562. Grotius, Hugo, 232. Denhanm, Sir John, 20, 26, 33, 35, 38, Dunbar, William, 690. 42, 44, 47, 48, 56, 61, 63, 84, 86, 88, Dunmow Oath, 629. Habington, William, I29, 557, 597. 89, 9I, 92, 95, 99, io2, io3, io09, 112, Dyer, John, 285, 454, 570. Hakewill, George, i83. II4, 122, I24, 125, 140, 14i, 242, I43, Hale, Sir Matthew, 690. 146, i56, 16o, 16i, i62, 163, 164, 070, Edmeston, James, 690. Halifax, Lord, 398, 424. i8o, 182, 87, 89, 98, 202, 208, 213, Elizabeth, Princess, 69i. Hall, Joseph, 49, 229, 460. 2i6, 221, 224, 226, 230, 234, 242, 246, Elizabeth, Queen, 656. Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 159, 238, 38I, 251, 255, 257, 262,265,269,270, 271, Elliot, Sir Gilbert, 467. 588, 6)2, 7II. 274, 275, 277, 278, 280, 283, 285, 288, Elliott, Ebenezer, 49, 485, 570, 629. Hamilton, William, 455, 468. 296, 300, 309, 33I, 334, 347, 35I, 352, Elphinston, James, 296. Hangford, G. W., 682. 364, 372, 376, 385, 387, 399, 400, 405, Embury, Emma C., 534, 538, 543, 547, Hankinson, T. E., 668. 4o7, 409, 412, 415, 416, 423, 429, 430, 710o. Harrington, Sir John, 565. 433,436, 439,440, 444, 445,447, 451, Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 593, 637, 69i. Harte, Walter, 34, 49, 74, 87, 92, 93, 452, 454, 465, 468, 473, 483, 50i, 521, Epigram, 629. io6, 116, 129, 172, 19i, 203, 206, 209, 525, 526, 528, 533, 537,547, 562,565, Euripides, 314. 209, 225, 228, 243, 300, 330, 362, 403, 593, 596, 6o8, 620, 636, 644, 649, 682, Evelyn, John, 597. 404, 405, 417, 422, 426, 430, 446, 455, 690, 708, 725. 485, 529, 557, 570, 65o. Dennis, John, 404. Fairfax, Edward, 22, 65, 74, 105, ii0, Hastings, Lady Flora, 7II. Dewey, George W., 708. 128, 042, i64, I76, 209, 220, 238, 251, Havard, William, 234, 298, 393, 422, Dibdin, Charles, 249. 314, 338, 357, 375, 376, 426, 452, 474, 502, 53I, 630, 668. Dickens, Charles, 568. 477, 485, 522, 57I, 595, 611, 612. Havergal, Frances R., 692. Dinnies, Anne P., 629. Falconer, William, 474. Hawkesworth, John, 96. Dodd, Mary Ann H., 587, 623. Fanshawe, Sir Richard, 449. Hayley, William, 65, 668. Doddridge, Philip, 3c0. Fawkes, Francis, 300. Heber, Reginald, 40, 255, 495, 630 Dodsley, Robert, 258. Fenton, Elijah, 49, i21, 190, 234, 324, Hedge, Frederick H., 522, 538. Donne, John, 27, 26, 37, 39, 56, 59, 63, 338, 366, 373, 393, 422, 455, 538.. Hemans, Felicia, 74, 87, I29, 147, 09I, 71, 83, 87, 88, 95, 98, 1i4, 121, 122, Ferriar, John, 84. 200, 229, 246, 249, 362, 485, 512, 534, 225, 243, I50, i62, 167, 270, i76, 289, Fiamma, Gabriel, 726. 543, 6i9, 668, 692, 720. 232,236, 245, 26i, 265,274, 280, 288, Fletcher, Giles, 468. Henley, Anthony, 49. 294, 297, 300, 309,334, 337, 342, 364, Fletcher,'John, 84. Herbert, George, 42, 6o, 87, 98, IO, 372, 399, 402, 407, 406, 425, 446, 463, Fletcher, Phineas, 479. I04, I29, 140, 151, I58, 172, 203, 226, INVDEX OF A UTHORS. 731 252, 255, 261, 269, 286, 296, 35I, 407, Livingston, William, 527, 630. Moir, David Macbeth, 347, 493. 424, 430, 446, 448, 459, 47, 50I, 509, Living Words, 683. Montague, Lady M. W., 46, 645; 671. 512, 584, 592, 597, 6.4o, 644. Loker, T., 714. Montgomery, James, 23I, 2i0, 302, Herrick, Robert, 141, 164, 192, I99, Longfellow, Henry W., 129, 140, I92, 362, 378, 427, 548, 716. 243, 281, 284, 406, 433, 477, 526, 538, 230, 284, 302, 377, 438, 471, 479, 480, Montgomery, Robert, 518, 613. 557, 597, 657, 711. 486, 513, 526, 517, 527, 532, 534, 538, Moore, Clement C., 717. Hervey, Thomas K., i6i, 229, 238, 557, 573 588, 612, 638, 658, 670, 693, Moore, Edward, 27, 67I. 557~~~~~~~~or,5Edar,527, 693. 692, 711. 714, 715. Moore, Hugh, 639. Hewitt, Mary E., 571, 602. Lord, William W., 715. Moore, Thomas, 17, 50, 60, 66, 83, 84, Heywood, Thomas, 455. Loud, Mrs. M. St. Leon, 573. 131, I39, 257, 162, 279, 2c6, 220, 229, Higgons, Bevil, 532. Lowell, James Russell, 509, 638, 700, 232, 239, 243, 256, 261, 283, 299, 302, Hill, Aaron, 49, 65, 315, 338, 357, 722. 725~ 3I6, 317, 339, 348, 354, 363, 367, 378, Hill, George, 522, 571. Lucretius, 533, 658. 390, 392, 396, 402, 408, 451, 456, 466, Hogg, James, 283, 597, 637, 7I2. Lynch, Anna C., 715. 494, 502, 502, 539, 548, 557, 620, 623, Holford, Mrs. M., 0oo. Lyte, Henry F., 534, 547, 552, 658, 671, 683, 694, 727, 727. Holmes, Oliver W., 49, O04, 238, 5I6, 725. More, Hannah, 131, i88, 228, 250, 572, 592, 612, 682. Lyttelton, Lord, 50, 65, 256, 262, 271, 280, 281, 427, 437, 466, 509, 645, 683, Home, John, 495. 315, 326, 418, 563, 630, 670. 717. Hood, Thomas, i29, i64, 354, 572, Lytton, Sir E. G. E. L. B., 47, 448. More, Henry, 509. 668, 722.,Lytton, E. R. B., 522, 527, 673, 694, Morpeth, Mary, 671. Hooper, Lucy, 557, 7I2. 7I6. Morris, Eliza F., 548. Horace, 49, 413, 480, 485, 545, 557, Mlorris, George P., 563, 574, 672, 694. 572, 595, 637. Macaulay, Lord, 418, 455, 573, 612, Motherwell, William, 620. Hosmer, W. H. C., 572. 725, 726. Mottetx, P. A., 553. Household Words, 619, 630, 637, 644, Mackay, Charles, 238, 693. Mottley, John, 327. 657, 682, 692, 7I2, 713, 726. Madan, Mrs. J., 694. Mulgrave, Lord, 461. Howard, Annie, 669. Madden, Dr. S., 202, 228, 330. Mlulock, Dinah M., 509, 534, 589, 603, Howard, Sir Robert, 96, 129, 27I, 398, Mallet, David, 203, 548. 639, 672. 400, 406, 417, 426, 434, 7I2. Marlowe, Christopher, 65, 74, 017, Mulso, Mrs., 327. Howe, Julia W., 669. 225, 247, 3I6, 377. Mulso, Thomas, 317. Howell, James, 683. Marston, John, iii, 181, 262, 357. Murphy, Arthur, 261, 418, 487. Howells, Wm. D., 700. Marston, John W., 670. Howitt, Mary, 96, 191, 245, 629, 712. Martial, 65, 56i. Nabbes, Thomas, 275, 727. Hoyt, Ralph, 638, 722. Marvell, Andrew, 129, 557. Neal, Alice B., 574. Hunt, Leigh, 572, 7IO. Mason, William, io00, 232, 377, 497, Neal, Emily, 575, 589. Hunter, Anne, 657. 533, 557, 588. Nevile, Robert, 683. Massinger, Philip, 45, 122, 184, 209, Newman, John Henry, 435. Jackson, Henry R., 572. 252, 290, 338, 377, 533, 63o. Newton, John, 727. Jacobs, Sarah S., 572, 692. Mather, Cotton, 527. Norris, John, 22, 37, 207, 13I, 243, James I., 669. Maturin, Charles, 65, 338, 396, 474, 256. Jenyns, Soame, 129. 486, 563, 670. Norton, Andrews, 534, 575. Jephson, Robert, 396. May, Caroline, 554, 638. Norton, Caroline E. S., 96, 132, I48,. Jewsbury, Maria J., 658, 713. May, Edith, 573, 588. 256, 317, 339, 362, 439, 557, 575, 589, Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 22, 34, 49, 63, May, Thomas, 17, 29, 30, 89, 2o7, 230, 613, 623, 631, 639, 658, 683, 718. -oo, I06, III, 129, I47, I59, 172, 188, I43, 29I, 265, 377, 423, 522. 222, 224, 226, 230, 235, 249, 266, 269, Mayne, John, 455. Old Scotch Song, 350. 272, 275, 290, 295, 296, 301, 315, 394, Mellen, Grenville, 602. Old Song, 694. 396, 427, 422, 426, 44I, 452, 486, 557, Meredith, Owen, 522, 527, 670, 694, Oldham, John, ioo, 461, 528. 566, 584, 597, 612. 76. Oldmixon, John, 672. Jones, Sir William, 96, 290, 427, 713. Mickle, Julius, ioo, 630. Opie, Amelia, 250. Jonson, Ben, 36, 42, 43, 49, 57, 65, Middleton,Thomas, 172,235,278,29o, Orrery, Earl of, 204, 210, 221, 27I. 89, 116, 121, 129, 144, 157, 159, 264, 644. Osgood, Frances S., 584. 267, 18i, 283, I84, 191, 203, 204, 209, Milman, Henry H., 65, 66, 670. Otway, Thomas, 44, 75, 96, i88, 204, 219, 224, 238, 252, 265, 281, 290, 295, Milnes, Richard Mlonckton, 603, 726. 228, 239, 252, 291, 317, 332, 383,394, 302, 3I6, 357, 38, 396, 417, 428, 424, Milton, John, 17, i8, 22, 25, 30, 33, 418, 423, 434, 4-43, 449, 502, 563, 59I, 441, 443, 448, 461, 472, 476, 486, 533, 34, 37, 38, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 624, 658, 672. 566, 572, 597, 598, 602, 65o, 669, 692, 50, 61, 66, 74, 75, 8i, 82, 84, 87, 88, Ouseley, T. J., 639. 698. 89, 90, 93, 94, 96, 98, 99, Ioo, 04, Overbury, Sir Thomas, 84, 632. Juvenal, 462, 474, 584. 207, i0io, 112, 116, 121, 222, i30, 131, Ovid, 433, 458, 557, 700. 138, 139, 141, 142, I44, 147, 148, 151, Owen, John, 645, 658. Keats, John, 65, 74, Io07, 206, 255, 458, 154, 155, 156, 257, 158, 259, 161, I62, Oxford, Earl of, 232, 672. 486, 497, 50I, 572, 669.. 63, I65, 167, 269, 170, 272, i73, 275, Keble', J, hn, i69, 216. 178, 179, 181, I84, 287, i88, i9i, 292, Pabodie, William J., 718. Kemble, Frances Anne, 390, 635, 654, 197, 199, 200, 20i, 202, 205, 206, 207, Parnell, Thomas, 37, 50, 87, 112, 1,3, 663, 705. 208,210,214, 215, 216, 218, 219, 221, 292, 339,359,378,4273433,498,589, Kenyon, John, 572. 222,223,224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 230, 620, 672. King, Bishop Henry, i29, 302, 563. 234, 238, 239, 243, 247, 248, 249, 250, Patterson, Alexander S., 540. King, Dr. William, 184, 214, 265, 252, 256, 259, 260, -63, 264, 265, 266, Paulding, James K., 728. 275, 338. 267, 269, 273, 274, 277, 278, 282, 283, Peacham, Henry, 292. Kingsley, Charles, 693. 284, 285, 286, 293, 29i, 298, 299, 302, Peacock, Thomas L., 256. Kinney, Elizabeth C., 572, 638. 305, 3I6, 330, 331, 334, 339, 343, 344, Peele, George, 239. Knapp, Francis, 525. 347, 348, 349, 350, 35I, 352, 353, 354, Pembroke, Countess of, 694. Knowles, J. Sheridan, 699. 357, 358, 359, 363, 366, 367, 373, 377, Percival, James G., IOI, 292, 348, 595, Knox, William, 669, 723. 378, 380, 381, 383, 386, 388, 389, 392, 621. 394, 396, 398, 399, 400, 402, 403, 407, Percy, Thomas, 352. Lamb, Charles, 49, 315, 714. 420, 423, 418, 423, 424, 426, 427, 430, Philemon, 658. Landon, L. E., 45, 264, i88, 191, 238, 432, 433, 434, 435, 436, 437, 438, 439, Philips, Ambrose, 94, 202. 245,256, 264, 315,347, 383, 390, 393, 441,443, 444, 445, 446, 448, 449, 45I, Philips, John, 30, 46, 50, 6o, 75, 83, 413, 422, 516, 623, 669, 683, 699, 714. 4,52, 455, 456, 455, 460, 463, 464, 465, I04, 13I, 40, I25, 163,1 92, 22o, 225, Lawson, Mary L., 573. 466, 467, 468, 472, 474, 477, 479, 482, 229,245, 259, ~63, 269, 272, 343, 378, Lee and Dryden, 434, 667. 486, 487, 493, 494, 495, 497, 498, 499, 398, 438, 443, 456, 474,480, 495, 575, Lee, Nathaniel, I44, 221, 344, 383,434, 50I, 509, 5Io, 513, 527, 518, 522, 525, 598, 613, 614, 639, 672. 448, 486, 533, 548, 612, 669. 529, 531, 532, 534, 539, 542, 543, 544, Philips, Katharine, 2io, 694. Leggett, William, 548, 714. 545, 548, 552, 553, 557, 563, 573, 574, Phillips, J. B., 631. Lewis, Estelle A., 526. 582, 584, 588, 589, 590, 592, 593, 594, Pierpont, John, 269, 718. Lewis, Matthew G., 5i6. 595, 598, 603, 613, 629, 631, 638, 644, Pike, Albert, 518, 632, 694. Leyden, John, 460, 714. 645, 65o, 658, 670, 67, 694, 726. Pinckney, Edward C., 603, 672. Lillo, George, i88, 228, 366, 392. Mitchell, J. K., 584, 638. Poe, Edgar A., 527. Lilly, 74. Mitchell, Samuel L., 638. Pomfret, John, 29, i31, 585, 645. 732.iNVDEX OF AUTHORS. Pope, Alexander, 17, 18, 19, 22, 23, Rochester, Earl of, 23, io8, 121, 280,.Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 54, 207, 286, 25, 31, 33, 34, 36, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 408, 461, 695, 700. 361, 380, 490, 520, 532, 578, 604, 641, 43, 44, 46, 50, 51, 52, 53, 57, 58, 6o, Rockwell, James 0., 523. 685. 6i, 66, 67, 70, 75, 76, 81, 82, 83, 84, Rogers, Samuel, i9, io8, 233, 225, 240, Shenstone, William, 35, 54, 153, 174, 86, 88, 89, 9go, g91, 92, 93, 94, 96, 98, 250, 264, 345, 348, 352, 359, 408, 467, 304, 392, 490. IOI, I02, 103, I04, I05, 107, io8, 2Io, 498, 503, 529, 543, 549, 590, 615, 632, Shepherd, Mrs. Anne, 720. Iii, 213, ii6, 227, i8, 229, I22, 122, 729. Sheridan, R. B., 68, 244, 406, 530. 231, 132, 239, 140, 242, 142, 243, 244, Roscommon, Earl of, Ig9, 23, 31, 53, 54, Shirley, James, 36, 253, 294, 304, 342, 148, 151, 152, I54, I56, 157, 158, 159, 58, 96, 203, io8, ii9, 223, 132, 141, 551, 6oo00, 617, 696. I6o, 161, i62, 263, 165, I67, 168, 270, 144, 245, 257, i8i, i86, i88, 204, 2II, Shrubsole, William, Jun., 541, 582. i73, 174, 276, 279, i8i, 84, 185, 186, 247, 256, 261, 270, 272, 274, 295, 297, Sidney, Sir Philip, 24, 68, 69, 79, 82, 287, 288, 292, 2931 96, 297, 299, 200, 320, 330, 333,369, 38i, 386, 403, 4IO, 85, 104, 136, 141, 149, i66, 233, 242, 202, 202,204, 205, 206, 208, 210, 215, 422, 414, 424, 432, 438, 443,445,448, 253, 286, 326,352, 36, 389,467,482, 216, 218,229, 220, 221, 223, 224, 225, 449, 453, 456, 461, 476, 495, 5IO, 5II, 490, 500, 504, 578, 6oo, 659, 677, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 232, 234, 239, 530, 543, 558, 562, 564, 576, 585, 6oo, 696. 240, 243, 245, 246, 247, 248, 250, 251, 6I5, 652,685. Slade, John, 490. 252, 256, 259, 260, 261,'263,264, 266, Rossetti, Dante G., 704. Small, James G., 604. 267, 268, 269, 270, 273, 274, 275, 277, Rowe, Nicholas, s18, 23, 25, 34, 67, 77, Smart, Christopher, 405. 278, 279, 280, 281,282, 284, 285,286, 83, 93,94, IO8;,33, 42, 152,1 75, 179, Smith, Alexander, 578. 291,295,296, 297, 298, 302, 303, 305, 188, i96, 2o8, 211,229, 230, 233, 234, Smith, Charitie Lees, 549. 317, 328, 330, 332, 333, 334, 335, 339, 235,248, 250, 257, 263,27, 274, 276, Smith, Charlotte, 721. 340, 343,344, 345, 348, 349, 350, 351, 281, 29i, 295, 297, 303,320, 340, 349, Smith, Elizabeth 0., 535, 578, 620, 352, 353,354, 359, 362, 363,367, 368, 359, 369, 378, 388, 390, 396, 405, 419, 633.'373, 374, 378, 381, 383, 384, 385, 386, 423, 443, 445, 449, 464, 488, 503,. 523, Smith, Horace, 295, 205. 388, 389, 392, 393, 396, 397, 399, 401, 530, 540, 545, 549, 558, 632, 639, 640, Smith, James, 578. 403, 405, 408, 41o0, 43, 414,418, 429, 675, 695. Smith, Sydney, 54. 423,424, 427, 430, 432, 432, 434, 435, Sands, Robert C., 529, 719. Smollett, Tobias G., 326, 457, 49I, 55I, 438, 440, 44, 443, 446, 449,450, 451, Sandys, George, 23, 54, 77, 213, I33, 677. 452, 453, 456, 458, 460, 461, 462, 463, 141, I55, 270, I94, 227, 223,240, 245, Somervile, William, 79, io8, 244, 442, 464, 465, 466, 467, 468, 471, 472, 474, 273, 279, 303, 349, 355, 369, 419, 423, 446. 475, 476, 479, 480, 481,487, 488, 494, 427, 442, 445,451, 503, 523, 519, 549, Song of the Spin, 677. 498, 500, 502, 509, 509, 513, 518, 522, 585, 594, 625, 646, 719. Sophocles, 434. 523,525,529, 530, 532, 535, 540, 543, Sargent, Epes, 729. Sotheby, William, 535, 64I. 545, 546, 548, 549, 553, 554, 558, 563, Savage, Richard, 36, 38, 54, 204, 246, Southern, Thomas, 79, I36, 145, 166, 564, 566, 575, 576, 585, 590, 592, 593, 533, 6s59. 253, 266,326,336,380, 434,495, 721. 594,595, 598, 599, 6I4, 62o, 62, 624, Saxe, J. G., 695, 729. Southey, Caroline A., 39o, 624. 632, 645, 646, 650, 651,652,659,672, Scott, James, 235, Southey, Robert, 54, 85, 97, 236, I37, 673, 674, 684, 695, 699, 718. Scoqt-,John, 6I5. 277, 326, 363, 472, 492, 541, 578, 618, Pope, Dr. Walter, 392. Sc tt Sir Walter, 23, 96, 133, 239, 677, 722. Porteus, Beilby, 78. 1i6, 75, 233, 240, 257, 320, 348, Southwell, Robert, 432, 560, 578, 621. Prince, P., 599, 646. 52, 359, 392, 394, 397, 424, 447, 457, Souza, M. De F. E., 722. Prior, Matthew, 28, 29, 23, 34, 38, 40, 458, 464, 472, 488, 535,543, 549, 559, Spanish Couplet, 85. 42, 43, 44, 53, 58, 6i, 67, 76, 77, 81, 576, 577, 625, 640, 675, 6851, 719. Spectator, The, 24, 475. 82, 84, 85, 89, go, 91, 93, 94, 95, 96,4 Sedley;- Sir Charles, 165, 320, 419. Spencer, Hon. William R., 56o, 633. 204,,o8, II0, II3, 119, I2I, 222, 132, Seward, Anna, 640. Spenser, Edmund, 24, 25, 32, 35, 39, I34, 240, 242, 244, 148, 152, 154, 257, Sewell, George, 181, 533. 40, 43, 54, 58, 60, 62, 67, 69, 79, 80, 16o, 263, 165, 269, 170, I74, 275, I79, Shadwell, Thomas, 320. 81, 82, 85, 86, 89, 92, 95, 97, 98, 99, i8i, I85, 186, 188, 293, 296, 299,200, Shakspeare, William, 18, i9, 23, 24, 20, 103, ic8, iio, 213, 120, 121, 22, 202, 204, 210, 211,217, 218, 221,223, 31, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 4I, 42, 43, 44, 137, 139, 240, 142, I42, 145, 249, 153, 226, 230, 232, 240, 244, 246, 247, 248, 46, 54, 6o, 62, 68, 77, 78, 79, 81, 82, 155, I56, I58, 162, i66, 168, 169, 170, 252, 256, 259, 260, 261,262,264, 265, 83, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 174, 275, 282, i86, 187, 188, 289, 195, 268, 270, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 94, 95, 97, 98, 99, 20, I02, 203, 104, 198, 200, 205, 215, 27, 220, 221,222, 279, 28, 284, 285, 286, 291, 295, 296, io8, iio, III, I19, 120, 21,,22, 223, 223,227, 228, 231, 233, 234, 235, 242, 299, 303, 306, 318, 329, 320, 333, 335, 134, 235, 236, 139, 4, I42, 242, 143, 244, 247, 253, 254, 257, 259., 262, 264, 340, 345, 348, 349, 350, 351, 352, 355, 245, 48, I49, 252, I53, 254, I55, i56, 270, 272, 273,274, 279,284, 285,297, 359,369, 378, 384, 385, 386, 388, 392, i57, 158, I6o, 161, 16o, 263, I65, 166, 304, 305, 3c6, 327, 328, 336, 342, 343, 396, 40, 405, 406, 408, 41, 424, 49, i68, i69, I7, 174, 275, 276, 179, i8i, 346, 350, 352, 353,355,36, 363, 371, 423, 424, 427, 430, 431, 435,437, 438, i82, 185,1 i86, i88, 194, 295, 196, I97, 375, 38o, 384, 389, 391, 393, 395, 397, 440, 441, 442, 443, 445, 448, 450, 452, 200, 201, 202, 204, 205, 206, 211, 212, 399, 403, 405, 4c6, 4c8, 41I, 425, 428, 456, 458, 462, 464, 465,467, 468, 472, 227, 218, 220, 221,224, 225,227, 228, 432, 435, 442, 445,448, 449, 452, 457, 475,479, 488, 494, 498, 500,502, 509, 229, 231,233,235,240, 241,244, 246, 460, 464, 465,467, 468, 472, 476, 479, 518, 519, 523, 530, 540, 544, 545, 549, 247, 248, 250, 252, 252, 253, 257, 259, 480, 491, 504, 5IO, 513,520, 524, 525, 554, 558, 564, 576, 582, 591, 593, 59), 260, 262,263,264, 265,266, 267, 268, 535, 542, 551, 553, 565, 578, 579, 593, 6o5, 624, 6i_, 624, 632, 646, 652, 659, 270, 272, 273, 274, 276, 277, 278,279, 594, 6zo, 618, 621, 641, 659, 677, 685, 674, 70, 728. 280, 282,285,286, 292, 293, 294, 295, 696, 699, 700. Procter, Adelaide Anne, 502, 503, 509, 296, 297, 298, 299, 303,304, 306, 320, Sprague, Clharles, 504. 513, 519, 523, 527, 532, 535, 558, 576, 32I, 322, 323,324, 325, 326, 330, 333, Stanisford, 6o0. 590, 603, 605, 615, 674, 684, 695, 700, 335, 336, 340, 342, 343, 345, 346, 348, Steele, Anne, 593, 604. 727~ 349, 350, 352, 3521, 353, 355, 359, 360, Steele, Sir Richard, 49i. Procter, Bryan Waller, 382, 398, 556, 362, 363, 369, 370, 374, 375, 376, 379, Steers, Fanny, 391. 639. 38 38,381,384, 385,386, 388, 389, 390, Stepney, George, 279, 542. Propertius, 152. 392, 392, 393 394, 39, 397 398 399 Sterling, John, i66, 305, 449, 560. Proverb, 433. 40I, 403, 405, 4c6, 408, 4II, 414, 429, Stillingfleet, Benjamin, 104, 356, 432, 420, 421,423,424, 425,427, 428, 430, 546, 652, 685. Quarles, Francis, 170, 284, 303, 427, 431, 432, 433,435,436,437,439,440, Stirling, Earl of, 35, I37, 244, 279, 282, 442, 445, 448, 646, 695, 78I. 442, 443, 444, 445,446, 447, 448, 449, 336, 393, 425, 591. 452, 452, 453, 457, 458, 459, 460, 462, Stoddard, R. H., 722, 722. Radcliffe, Mrs., 378, 456, 475, 523, 463,464, 465,466, 467, 468, 472, 475, Story, William W., 586. 542, 564, 590. 476, 477, 478, 480, 481,488, 489, 490, Stowell, Htgh, 659. Raffles, Thomas, 549, 719~ 494, 495, 498, 500, 503, 504, 5IO, 511, Street, Alfred B., 579. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 53, 89, III, II3, 523,519,520, 523,524, 527, 530, 532, Suckling, Sir John, 69, 80, 88, 9gI, I53, 222, 252, 229, 320, 392, 449, 467, 558 533 535, 540, 541, 542, 543,544, 545, i6q, 195, 215, 272, 328, 478, 492, 55I, 639,652, 727. 549,550, 551,553,554, 559, 560, 56i, 652,677, 699. Randolph,Thomas, 157,222, 240, 270, 564, 565,566, 577, 578, 582, 585, 586, Surrey, Earl of, 524. 390, 427, 448, 675. 591, 592, 593,594, 595, 6oo, 604, 6o5, Surtees,. E., 238. Read, Thomas B., 245, 576. 615, 66, 627, 624, 625, 632, 633, 640, Swain, Charles, 244, 586, 604, 618,621, Reed, Andrew, 585. 641,646, 647, 652,659,675,676, 677, 65g. Richmond, Legh, 133. 68q, 696, 699, 700, 729, 720, 727. Swetnam, Joseph, 279. Robinson, Ed., 564. Sheffield, John, 54, 375, 530. Swift, Jonathan, 25, 32, 36, 38, 46, 54, INDE X OF A UT1OORS. 733 58, 6o, 69, 70, 80, 85, 83, 92, 94, I04, 457, 464, 477, 5Io, 51I, 531, 565, 5)6, Wesley, Charlcs, 553. 105, o082, 109, I20, I37, 153, I56, I6o, 6I8. Wesley, Samuel, Jr., 647, 723. I66, 17I, I75, I76, I8o, I86, i89, 195, Tighe, Mary, 2I8, 274, 329, 453, 493, White, Henry K., 2I3, 362, 723. I96, 202, 207, 2I2, 213, 2I7, 2I9, 227, 543, 560. Whitehead, William, 679. 242, 246, 248, 254, 26i, 266, 267, 263, Tompson, Benjamin, 678. Whitman, Sarah K., 536. 270, 276, 282, 294, 296, 297, 305, 306, Tourneur, Cyril, 270, 276, 621. Whittier, John G., 458, 473, 481, 5I4, 328, 333, 336, 342, 343, 346, 349, 353, Trumbull, Jchn, 294. 536, 544, 554, 531, 537, 590, 629, 624, 355, 385, 393, 397, 399, 401, 403, 4o5, Tucker, St. George, 723. 642, 728. 406, 4II, 4I4, 42I, 428, 42,> 437, 439, Tuckerman, Henry T., 544. Wilcox, Carlos, 697, 728. 453 46I, 462, 466, 476, 480, 491, 524, Tuke, Sir Samuel, 213, 244, 673. Wild, Robert, *527. 530, 531, 541, 543, 546, 551, 562, 579, Tupper, Ellin J., 696. Willis, Nathaniel P., og9, 565, 647, 59I, 593, 594, 595, 6o0, 604, 621, 64, Tusser, Thomas, 32, 33, 580, 634, 647. 660, 679, 723, 724. 647, 652, 653,677, 678, 696. Twiss, Horace, 634. Wilson, Caroline, 660. Talfourd, Sir T. N., 504. Wilson, John, 70, 476, 493. Tannahill, Robert, 535, 641. Vanbrugh, Sir John, I45. Winchelsea, Countess of, 724. Tappan, William B., 624, 722. Vaughan, Henry, 149, 493, 696. Wither, George, 679. Tasso, 55I Va;x, Thomas Lord, 242, 60o. Wolcott, John, 40, 55, 60, 342, 429, Tate, Nahum, I20, 242, 457, 465, 6i3. Very, Jones, 530, 723. 493, 56i. Taylor, B. F., 560, 579. Virgil, 620. Wolcott, Roger, 66D. Taylor, Bayard, 722. Wolfe, Charles, 66D. Taylor, Henry, 23I, 449, 633, 722. Waller, Edmund, 25, 33, 35, 36, 38, Wood, William, 51r. Tennyson, Alfred, 43, 80, 97, 137, I49, 39, 43, 44, 55, 58, 62, 70, 8i, 87, 89, Woodman, Hannah J., 642. 225, 242, 257, 270, 284, 328, 349, 36i, 9I, 93, 94, I02, I04, I09, II10 I20, Woodworth, Samucl, 250. 363, 3172, 422, 429, 430, 4'9I, 492, 498, I38, I45, 153, I54, I-5, I57, I58, I63, Wordsworth, William, 25, 55, 70, 8S, 504, 505, 5I4, 520, 524, 526, 536, 542, i66, 176, E)6, 187, I96, 213, 26, 2I7, 85, 86, 93, 97, 104, I49, I66, I82, i96,_ 552, 552, 560, 580, 536, 604, 6I8, 624, 220, 227, 22I, 242, 244, 246, 254, 2r7, 207, 213, 225, 229, 235, 242, 2444E 50, 634, 64I, 647, 659, 678, 686, 696, 699, 265, 266, 267, 273, 274, 279, 282, 284, 257, 330, 349, 385, 4I5, 505, 587, 6o2, 722. 294, 299, 305, 329, 333, 336, 342, 343, 648, 679, 680, 697, 7-4, 723Tennyson, Frederick, 634. 350, 355, 362, 37I, 375, 380, 385, 389, WVorthington, Jane T., 590. Thackeray, W. M., 678, 722. 393, 397,41I, 4I24 415, 421, 429, 4I52 Wotton, Sir Henry, 4 2, 403, 223, I33, Thomson, Mrs. Archbishop, 723. 439, 444, 446, 449, 452, 458, 459, 46I, i96, 2I8, 275, 363, 33, 39I, 520 63I Thomson, James, 25, 32, 39, 55, 59, 464, 472, 476, 477, 493, 500, 505, 514, 697. 70, 80, 8I, 83, 87, 93, 97, 98, 102, 520, 525, 53I, 5)6, 542, 552, 560, 566, Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 525, 686. I03, I04, I09, II0, II3, I2I, I37, I49, 580, 58i, 586, 592, 594,60o, 605, 6I8, I53, 156, I57, i58, I62, 263, 175, 276, 634, 647, 678, 679, 697. Yalden, Thomas, 250. 80o, 182, 287, I89, 295, I96, 200, 20), Walsh, William, 70, 105, 278,329, 4I5. Yimmit, 686. 2I3; 2I5, 220, 222, 226, 244, 245, 248 Walton, Izaak, 39, 40. Young, Charlotte, 697, 698. 250, 257, 260, 262, 264, 266, 270, 272, Ward, Nathaniel, 586, 679. Young, Edward, 29, 25,, 36, 40, 44, 273, 277, 282, 286, 294, 299, 305, 3c6, Ware, Henry, Jr., 635. 55, 58, 59, 60, 70, 82, 83, 86, 89, I02,,28, 329, 333, 336, 342, 346, 355, 36i, Ware, Katherine A., 524, 532, 536, 05, og09, II0, 20, I38, I39, I45, 250, 375, 380, 385, 395, 397, 399, 40I, 402, 635, 642, 723. 154, 156, I57, i58, i60, 170, 175, 277, 4,I4, 42I, 433, 436, 439, 450, 457, 464, |Waring, Samuel M., 553- x86, I89, 296, 297, 205, 2I3, 227, 222, 468, 477, 492, 493, 494, 498, 499, 500, Warton, Joseph, 499, 52I. 224, 226, 227, 228, 231, 235, 242, 244, 505, 5I4, 520, 524, 525, 526, 527, 53I, Warton, Thomas, 408. 245, 250, 257, 260, 263, 265, 266, 272, 532, 536, 542, 542, 552, 560, 580, 586, Watkyns, Rowland, o02, 563. 275, 276, 285, 294, 295, 297, 305, 333, 590, 592, 594, 595, 6oo, 6oi, 6i8, 620, Watts, Alaric A., 342, 723. 333, 336, 342, 343, 346, 353, 363, 375, 624, 64I, 642, 647, 653, 660, 678, 722, Watts, Isaac, i66, 248, 459, 505, 510, 380, 393, 394, 408, 409, 425, 429, 432, 728. 511, 520, 527, 552, 587, 62i, 624, 647, 434, 439, 442, 446, 450, 453, 46I, 466, Thrale, Hester L., 25. 660, 697, 723. 493, 496, 499, 505, 510, 5II, 520, 528,"Tickell, Thomas, 55, 70, 8I, I69, I96, Webb, George, 5I4. 531, 533, 542, 546, 554, 56i, 582, 59I, 2I7, 294, 336, 355, 36I, 375, 380o, 3809, Webster, John, 222, 505. 593, 60o, 6I9, 620, 62I, 634, 648, 653, 408, 42I, 414, 422, 429, 46,2 442, 6 Wel!s, Anna I., 58I. 66I, 680, 686, 698, 724. INDEX OF SUBJECTS. Absence................................... I7 Children................................... 95 False....................................... 7 Actors.-"......I.......................... i8 Chivalry................................... 97 Falsehood................................ I70 Adversity.................................. 8 Church.................................... 98 Fame....................................... 171,A dvice................................. 9 Cold....................................... 98 Fam ine................................. 175 Affectation............................... i9 Comments................................ 8 Fancy..................................... 75 Affliction.................................. 9 Commerce.....98..................... 98 Fashion................................... 176 Age.....0................................ 20 Compassion............................. 99 Fate....................................... 77 Agony........25 Compliments............................. 25 Complimen............................. 99 Fear.......S..... 8 Agriculture............................... 25 Conscience............................... 99 Feasts...................................... I82 Alchemy.................................. 33 Conspiracy............................... 102 Fickleness................................ 8i6 Ambition................................. 33 Contemplation....0.................. 102 Fiction.................................... iS6 Ancestry.................................. 35 Contentment............................. 102 Fishes...................................... 187 Angels..................................... 37 Conversation............................. 103 Flattery................................... 187 A nger...................................... 38 Coquettes............................... 105 Flowers.................................... i89 Angling.................................... 39 Country Life............................. 205 Folly.......................96 A nguish................................... 40 Courage................................... Fc9 Fools....................................... 196 Antiquities............................... 40 Courtesy.....................F........:io Fops....................................... T)7 Anxiety.................................... 4 Courtship................................ 110o Foreknowledge.......................... 297 Applause................................ 4r Cowardice............................... iii Foreordination..................: I97 Architecture............4................ 41 Coxcombs................................ IIi Forests.................................... I98 Arguing.................................... 42 Creation............................. iii Forgetfulness......................... 20 Aristocracy.............................. 43 Criticism................................ I3 Forgiveness.............................. 201 Arms....................................... 43 Cruelt..................................... I20 Fortitude..Cr............................ 2o01 Art.......................................... 43 Customin.................................... 120 Fortune.................................... 202 Artifice.......4.......................... 44 Fountains.5............................. 205 Arts......................................... 44 Dance...................................... 21 Freedom.................................. 205 A strology................................. 45 ay......................................... 12i Free Will................................. 207 Auction.................................... 46 Day ofJudgment...................... 22 Friendship............................. 208 A uthors.................................... 46 D eath...................................... i23 Fruit....................................... 2213 Authorship............................. 55 Deceit..................................... 8 Funerals............................ 2x6 Autumn.............................. 59 -Deeds..................................... I39 Futurity.................................. 2I7 A varice..................................... 59 D elay...................................... I39 Delight................................ 140 Gambling.................................. 218 Battle................................... 6i De solat io n................................ 4o G ardens................................... 2 9 Beauty..................... 62 Despair.................................... 140 Genius..................................... 220 Beaux...................................... 70 Destiny.................................... 14 Gentleman................................ 22 Birds....................................... 70 D evotion................................. 141 G Centle ne ss............................... 22 Blandishments.......................... 8 Discontent................................ 42 Glory....................................... 22 Blessings.................................. 8 Dishonour............................... 142 God........................................ 222 Blindness................................. 8r D ispraise................................. 142 Gold....................................... 223 Bliss...........:....... 82 Distress................................... 142 Good....................................... 224 Blushes.................................... 83 Doubts............................ 1....... 42 Good Humour.......................... 226 Boasting............................... 83 Drama.................................... 43 Government............................. 226 Boolks............................. 83 D ream s.................................... 45 G race...................................... 27 Bores................................. 86 IDress....................................... 5o Gracefiul.................................. 227 Bounty................................... 86 Drowning................................. 54 Graces.................................... 223 PBravery.................................... 86 D ulness................................... 154 G ratitude.................................. 228 Bride....................................... 87 D uty....................................... 154 G raves.................................... 229 G reatness................................. 229 Calumny............................... 88 Earth....................................... 55 Grief.........23.................... 23z Candour.............................. 88 -Education................................ 255 Groves.................................... 234 Care....................................... Eloquence................................ 56 G uilt........................................ 234 Carol....................................... 89 Emulation 157 Carousing................................. 89 Envy...................................... i58 Habit.............................235...... 35 Cataracts................................. 90go Epitaphs................................. 58 Hair...................................... 235 Caution.................................... 9 Equanimity.............................. 46o Happiness........................2.. 242 Censure................................. 9go Eternity................................... i6o Harvest........................... 245 Cerem ony................................. go Evening................................... 6 H ealth..................................... 245 Chance.................................... 9 Everlasting.62 Heart........................... 246 Change.................................... Evil H a4.......................... 62 H eave n.................................... 246 Changelings.............................. 9 Example.................................. i62 Heroes............................ 248 Chaplets................................... 9 Exercise................................... 163 H istory.................................... 248 Character................................. 9 Expectation.............................. 63 Home..................2................ 248 Charity................................... 92,'Experience.............................. 263 Honesty................................. 250 Charm s.................................... 94 Extrem es................................. 163 H onoiur.................................... 25 Chastisement............................ 94 Eyes....................................... 163 H-ope.......9............,.................54 Cheerfulness............................ 94 Horror...................................257 Chess....................................... 95 Fairies..................................... 67 H orse s..................................... 257 Chiding.............................. 95 Faith....................................... 169 Hospitality.............................. 6c (734) VIND r X O S UBJ/E C TS. 735 Hum ility................................. 261 Pardon.................................... 389 Shrews..................................... 476 Hum our.................................. 26t Parents.................................... 389 Silence..................................... 476 Hunting................................... 26I Parting....................... Sin............................i........ Husbands................................ 262 Passion.. Singing................................. 47 H ypocrisy................................ 262 Past........................................ 393 Slander.................................... 48o Patience.................................. 394 Slavery.................................... 40 Idleness................................... 263 Patriotism............................. 395 Sleep........................................ I Ignorance.............................. 264 Patronage................................. 397 Smiles...................................... 93 Imagination............. 264 Peace....................................... 397 Society.................................... 494 Im m ortality............................ 265 People..................................... 399 Soldiers.................................... -Z Ingratitude............................... 265'Perfection................................. 3)9 Solitude.................................... 96 Innocence................................. 266 Perseverance...,.................. 39 Song........................................ 499 Insanity.............................. 267 Perverseness............................. 399 Sorrow.................................... 5 o Instinct.................................. 267 Philosophy............................... 399 Soul......................................... 535 Intem perance............................ 268 Physic..................................... 402 Spirits...................................... 5o Invention............................... 270 Physicians................................ 403 Spleen.................e............ xI Pity......................................... 405 Spring..................................... 5 Jealousy.............................. 7..... 7 Pleasure................................... 4 6 Stars..................................... 5 4 Jesting..................................... 272 Poetry...................................... 409 Statue...................................... 520 Jewels.................................... 272 Poets....................................... 412 Storm s................................... 520 Joy............................. 274 Politics.................................... 415 Streams.................................... 525 Judges.................... 275 Popularity................................ 421 Study....................................... 526 Judgment................................ 276 Poverty......................... I.......... 422 Style...................................... 5 8 Just...................................... 278 Praise..................................... 423 Success..................................... 53 Justice..................................... 278 Prayer..................................... 425 Suffering.................................. 5, Preaching.............................. 429 Suicide.................................... 532 Kindness............................... 280 Presum ption............................. 430 Summer................................... 533 Kings...................................... 28o30 Pride....................................... 430 Sun......................................... 5 6 (naves..................................... 2 Procrastinaticn......................... 432 Superstition.............................. 542 K nowledge............................... 283 Proportion................................ 432 Sym pathy................................. 542 Proposals................................. 433 Labour..................................... 284,Prosperity................................ 433 Tales....................................... 544 Landscape s............................... 285 Providence............................. 434 Talk...........5.............. 544 Laughter.................................. 2 6 Prudence................................. 436 Taste............................ 6...... 546 Law......................................... 286 Punishment............................... 436 Tears..................................... 5 6 Lawyers................................. 294 Temptation ~............. c 52 Lawyers.. ~~~294,Temptation.. 52 Learning.................................. 296 Quarrels................................... 436 Thought................................... 5 3 Letters..................................... 297 Quotations................................ 437 Thunder................................ 4 Liberty.................................... 298 Tim e....................................... 5 5 Life.......................................... 299 Rage..................................... 437 To-m orrow............................. 56 Light....................................... 305 Rain....................................... 437, Translation............................ 62 Logic..................................... 3c6 Rashness................................. 439 Travel...............................3Rs. T62 Love....................................... 306 Reading................. 439 Treason.................................... 565 Luxury.................................... 330 Reason...................................... 440 Trees....................................... 566 Rebellion.................................. 442 Trials...................................... M an......................................... 331 Redemption.............................. 444 Trifles...........................:........ 582 M anners................................... 334 Reform ation............................. 445 Truth..................................... 582 Matrimony........................... 336 Religion 445 Twilight................................... 587 Medicine............................ 342 Remedies.................................. 446 Tyranny... 590 Meditation............. 343 Remorse.................................. 446 Melancholy............................. 344 Repentance............................ 447 Unidness................ 59 Memory................................... 346 Resignation.............................. 449 Mercy................I.............. 349 Resta...n............................ 449 Valour.............................. 592 Merit................................... 350 Resurrection.......................... 449 Vanity................. 592 MIerriment............................ 350 Retirement............................... 450 Variety.................................... 593 Mind....................................... 35 Revenge................... 450 Vegetation................................ 594 Mirthr.................................. 352 Rhetoric................................. 452 Vengeance................................ 594 Misery....................... 352 Rhyme................................... 452 Verse.................................. 594 Misfortune................................ 352 Riches................................... 452 Vice e a................................ 594 M oderation.............................. 353 Ridicule................................... 453 Virtue..................................... 595 Modesty................................. 353 Rivals................................. 453 Voices...................................... 6o5 Money................................. 353 Rivers..................................... 453 Vows.....................................605 M oon................................... 353 Roses....................................... 458 V oyage.................................... 6o5 Morning................................... 355 Vulgarity................................. 65 M other.................................... 362 Sabbath................................... 459 Mourning........................... 363 Sadness.................... 460 WVar..................................... 606 Molrusic............................... 364 Sanctity......... 460 Water..................................... 6I9 Satire.................................... 460 W ealth..................................... 620 ature.........................;........... 372 Scandal.................................... 462 W eeping................................... 62I New Vear................................. 375 Scepticism................................ 462 Wickedness.............................. 624 News...................................... 375 Science.................................... 462 Wife i.................................. 625 Night................................. 376 Scolding................................. 462 Winter.................................... 634 Scriptures............................. 462 Wisdom...................... 642 Oath....................................... 380 Sculpture.................................. 463 Wit....................................648 Obituaries.............. 3 S ius.................................... 464 W oe..................................... 653 Oblivion.................................... 38 Secrecy.................................. 464 Wom an.................................... Obstinacy................................ 38I Self-Lo ve................................. 465 W ords...................................... 68 Ocea n................................6... 38I Sense.................................... 465 W orld.................................... 686 Opportunity.............................. 385 Sensibility................................. 466 Worth.................................... 698 Oratory..................................... 385 Sham e.................................. 467 W rong..................................... 699 O rder....................................... 386 Sheep....................................... 467 Shepherd............................. 467 Youth...............................I..... 700 Pain..................................... 386 Ships....................................... 468 Painting................................... 387 Shipwreck............................. 473 -Zeal......................................... 725 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. A. A generous virtue, 597. A modest blush, 353. A glimpse of moonshine, 354. A monarch's sword, 53. A bank whereon, 194. A glorious apparition, i8i. A moral, sensible, 334. A bard here dwelt, 414. A glorious tree, 571. A most poor man, 204, 406. A bard whom, 4I4. A goldfinch there, 73. A mother's love, 362. A beau and witling, 65I. A good man's fortune, 204. A mountain at, 285. A beauty-waning, 322. A good wife was there, 627. A murderous guilt, 324. A bird new made, 72. A gown made, I52. A murky storm, 520. A bird that flies, 7I. A grain of glory, 26I. A murmuring sound, 6I9. A blockhead rubs, 46, A grand attempt, 678. A nail uncut, 242. A blockhead with, 604. A great deal, 55. A native grace, 70. A bloody Hymen, 6ii. A grove born with, 568. A new and nobler, 562. A book! oh, rare one! 85. A grove hard by, 553. A new-born wood, I98. A brave choice, 87. A gushing fountain, 2I9. A' night of fretful, 68. A brave man struggling, I79. A happy genius, 220. A noble crew, I53. A brave romance, I87. A happy soul, 242. A noble emulation, I72. A broad and ample road, 5I8. A hateful prattling tongue, 27I. A noble heart, 699. A cause on foot, 257. A heavy heart, 336. A numerous host, 726. A chief renown'd, I72. A hectic fever, 402. A pack of sorrows, 503. A Christian's wit, 649. A hovering mist, 128. A painted vest, I5o. A clear conscience, 99. A huffing, shining, i88. A paler shadow, 587. A clerk foredoom'd, 58, 413.. jest's prosperity, 652. A parish priest, 92. A cloud of smole, 6I, 6ii. A kind refreshing, I45. A patriot is a fool, 396. A coarser place, go. A knave's a knave, 282. A patriot's is a, 397 A combination and a form, 68, 333. A knight of swarthy, 258. A peal of loud, 72. A comic subject, I44. A lady's honour, 25I. A peal shall rouse, 122. A common pity, 406. A land of streams, 526. A perfect judge will read, II6. A conscious, wise, 287, 642. A lazy, lolling sort, 263. A place where misdevotion, 98. A contract of eternal, 326. A leech, which had, 395. A plain suit, I5i. A contract of true love, 32I. A length of ocean, 384. A plaining song, 500. A countenance more, 39. A life of glorious, 393. A pleasant grove, 579. A creature of, 33I. A list the cobbler's, 242. A poet is not born, 412. A crimson blush, 458. A little bench of, 54. A poet must confess, 402. A crown! what is it? 28I. A little ease, I33. A popular sway, 4I5. A day, an hour, 298. A little fire, 393. A prince, the moment, 282. A dearth of words, I05. A little hope, 3I4. A prudent chief, 614. A death-bed's a detector, I38. A little learning, 296. A race, 25. A death-like sleep, 486. A little lowly, Io8. A rav'nous vulture, 74. A decent boldness, 335. A little wiclker, I95. A real joy I never knew, 591. A desperate wound, 402. A lively faith, I69. A reverend sire, 430. A different toil, 176. A lofty pile, 570. A riband did, 237. A dire dilemma, 57. A long, exact, I44. A rift there was, 587. A dog, a parrot, 677. A look so pale, 2I, 402. A robe of tissue, I5I. A doleftld case, 99. A losel wandering, 86. A sacred weapon, 585. A dreadful quiet, 6c9. A love that malces, 321. A sacrifice to fall, I77. A drunkard clasp, 270. A lovelier nymph, 65. A sad estate, 427. A fabric huige, 366. A lovely bud, I33. A sad svise valour, 592. A faint cold fear, i8i. A lover is the, 329. A sapling pine he, 569. A fairer red, I93. A lover may bestride, 320. A scene where, 66. A falcon, tow'ring, 77, 43I. A lover's eyes, i66. A sceptre snatch'd, 42I. A falc'ner Henry is, 77. A maid thitherward, 79. A scorn of flattery, i88. A feast prepared, I83. A man busied, 276. A sea of melting, 55I. A feather shooting, i86. A man first builds, o08. A senator of Rome, 336. A female softness, 666. A man in all, 545. A servile race, I14. A fire which, 451. A man must serve, II4. A shameful fate, I32. A firm yet cautious, 449. A man of pleasure, 409. A shape of beauty, 657. A fitting emblem of, 712. A man of sense, 44. A shepherd next, 468. A flattering painter, 388. A man of years, 346. A ship sail'd, 47I. A fleet descried, 47. A man shall malke, 466. A ship that through, 472. A flow'r in meadow, I90. A man that fortune's, 449. A ship which hath, 468. A fool might once, I96. A maple dresser, I83. A shooting star, 5i8. A fool must now, I96. A melancholy tear, 549. A side breeze, 470. A foreign son, I7I. A merrier man, 352. A silver line, 242. A fountain in, 205. A mighty and, 443. A single jail, 290. A fresher gale, 80. A mighty king, 28I. A single violet, I89. A friend is gold, 2II. A mighty pain, 308. A slave I am, T65. A friend should bear, 21i. A mind which through, II3. A smile recures, 494. A fuller blast ne'er shook, 524. A mirth-moving, 544. A smile that glow'd, 493. A gen'ral sets his army, 6i. A mist of words, 68I. A soft responsive voice, 236. A generous friendship, 210. A modern critic, II4. A soldier now, 39. (736) INDEX OF FIRST LNVES. 737 A soldier of the Legion, 613. About me round, 285. Ah, happy hills! 710. A something light, 3i7. About the mossy, 512. Ah! hope not yet, 564. A Sorrow, wet with, 502. About this spring, 167. Ah! how unjust, 333. A soul supreme, 202. Above all Greek, 174. Ah, I see thee, 430. A soul that can, 127. Abroad too kind, 342. Ah! little think they, 137. A sov'reign shame, 266. Abrupt, with eagle-speed, 76. Ah me! for aught, 325. A spaniel, a wife, 634. Absence of occupation, 263. Ah me! full sorely, i74. A sparing diet, 402. Absent many, 363. Ah me! those joyous days, 719. A spark, like thee, 404. Absent or dead, 21o. Ah me l what perils, 607. A spirit fit to start, 289. Abstract as in a trance, 148. Ah! ne'er so dire a thirst, ii6. A sprightly red, 164. Abstract what others feel, 220. Ah nut-brown partridges, 71. A star has left, 516. Abstruse and mystic, 53o. Ah, tell me not, 347, 393, 7T4. A state's anger, 418. Absurd! to think, 171. Ah, that deceit, 263. A steed, 258. Abundance is, 452. Ah that your business, 29. A story in which, 544. Accomplishments have, 643. Ah, the poor shepherd's, 468. A subject in his, 416. According to our law, 292. Ah the strange, 676. A substitute, 282. Accountable to none, ioo. Ah l then and there, 390. A sudden darkness, 376. Acquaintance I would have, 208. Ah, then, my hungry, SIo. A sudden horror chill, 257. Acquit thee bravely, 407. Ah! there the wild, 552. A sudden star it shot, 5i8. Across the threshold, 632. Ah, what a sign, 135. A sweaty reaper, 30. Adam, by his wife's, 631. Ah l! what avail, 75. A sweeter and a lovelier, 221. Adam had wove, 238. Ah M what avails, 468. A swelling knot, 26. Adam, soon as, 477. Ah, what concerns, 250. A sword keen-edged, 6io. Adam! well may we, 219. Ah, what is mirth, 394. A sylvan scene, 199, 285. Add long prescription, 290. Ah l! when did WVisdom, 645. A taste which plenty, 546. Add, that the rich, 422. Ah! wherefore should, 623. A tearing groan, I34. Adieu for him, 307. Ah M who can say, 723. A tender smile, 505. Adieu the heart-expanding, 139. Ah! who can tell, 171. A thing of beauty, 65. Admire we, then, 281. Ah, who, when fading, 719. A third interprets, 462. Admits of no degrees, 4Io. Ah, why, Penelope, 487. A thousand Cupids, 242. Admitted to that equal sky, 247. Ah, why th' ill-suiting, 344. A thousand fears, i8i. Adoring first, 155, 376. Ah, woman! in this, 672. A thousand forms, 245. Adorn a dream, 147. Ah, world unknown, 690. A thousand glorious, 6o6. Adorn'd, 631. Ah! wretched, 496. A thousand men, 227. Adrastus soon, 614. Airs, vernal airs. 513. A thousand more, 394. Advise how war may, 603. Alas! a mortal, 659. A thousand nights, 484. Aery tongues, that, 603. Alas! ambition makes, 35. A thousand ships, 469. ZEthereal music, 365. Alas! and is domestic, 628. A thousand twanging, 370. Afar from thee! 627. Alas for my weary, 655. A thousand years, 415. Affected noise is, 530. Alas! how hitter, 699. A time of war, 6io. Affection is a coal, 323. Alas! how light, 2AIO. A time will come, 6io. Afflicted sense, 441. Alas! I have no, 232. A tinsel veil, 238. Affliction is enamour'd, 29. Alas l I have not, 5oi. A tomb and fun'ral, 216. Affliction is the good man's, 9g. Alas! misfortunes, 5o5. A tree grew in Java, 578. Afield I went, 630. Alas my fears, 18o. A trusty villain, 346. After a tempest, 476. Alas! not dazzled, 074. A tuft of daisies, 09o. After death, we sprights, i27. Alas! our young, 390. A tun of man, 630. After life, 582. Alas! Sempronius, 307. A valle obscured, 65. After long storms, 524. Alas, that love, 321, 324~ A veil of richest, 152. After my death, 248, 253. Alas! that youth's, 708. A venerable wood, 198. After or before, 609. Alas l the breast, 82, 232. A verse may find, 430. After our ship, 475. Alas! the joys, 203. A vest of purple, ISI. After shovwers, Si6. Alas! the love of, 663. A vestal priestess, 669. After so long a race, 85. Alas! the muses, 659. A vile encomium, 188. After the decliining sun, 3r. Alas! the small, 295. A violet by a mossy, 196. After the slaughter, 398. Alas! the world, 693. A Voice reproves me, 602. After them all dancing, 121. Alas! too well, 392. A voice went forth, 602. After this cold consid'rance, 294. Alas, what stay, 17. A war ensues, 289. After toiling twenty days, 120. Alas i when all our, 526. A waving glow, 122, 220. Again at Christmas, 641. Alas l why gnaw you, 272. A way there is, 505. Again, how can she, 508. Alas l young man, 479. A wealthy poet, 404. Again the lonely, 378. Albee my love, 327. A weather-beaten lover, 309. Against all checks, 322. Alcyone he names, 94. A'wet sheet, 382. Against allurement, 202. Alike all ages, 22. A widow, husbandless, 676. Against experience, 277. Alike in feature, 237. A wiovow who, by, 336. Against ill chances, 351. Alive, ridiculous, 200. A wife so hung, 629. Against my love, 559. All agree to spoil, 418. A wild where weeds, 209. Against the head, 266. All, all but truth, 585. A wise man likes, 644. Against the public, 442. All are but parts, 374. A wit can study, 65i. Against whose fury, 62. All are not taken, 5oo. A wit with dunces, 65o. Against your worship, 52. All around the wind, 640. ~ wither'd hermit, i65. Age by degrees, 20. All arts and artists, 44. A wit's a feather, 250. Age cannot wither, 24. All authors to their own, 56. A woman moved, 675. Age has not yet, 21. All beaming with light, 66. A womnan, that is, 676. Age is froward, 20. All birds and beasts, 487. A woman's face, 677. Age, like ripe apples, 20. All blest secrets, 403. A woman's tongue, 676. Age might, what, 650. All books he reads, 5I. A woman's will, 666. Age sits with decent, 23. All bright Phoebus, 359A wooer, 262. Age too shines out, 25. All clad in liveliest colours, 236. A word is ringing, 684. Age's chief arts, 20. All-conquering Heat, 5,6. A world where lust, 698. Aghast, astonish'd, 237. All day, like some, 633. A worthless womain! 663. Aghast he waked, 180, 484. All day within, 495. A would-be satirist, 460. Agony unmix'd, 329. All delights are vain, 586. A wretched soul, 09. Ah! bless'd are they, 362. All discord, 225. A young maiden's, 663. Ah! come not, 308. All dreams, 146. A young man married, 720. Ahl, cruel creature, 198. All eyes you draw, 064. A youth would marry, 695. Ah, friend! to dazzle, 246, 593. All fame is foreign, I73. Abate the edge of traitors, 566. Ah l from real, 595. All fancy-sick she is, 325. About his shelves, 405. Ah, gentle dames, 336. All feed on, 397. 47 738 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. All fell upon the, 568. All those graces, 228. And, as in sparkling, 255. All fish from sea, 187. All thoughts, all passions, 308. And as much, 390. All friends shall taste, 279. All thy fears, 146. And as the better spirit, i6o. All furious as a, 664. All thy vexations, 321. And aye that volume, 41. All grant him prudent, 436. All tongues speak, 421. And but my noble, 272. All great concernments, 439. All treasures and, 252. And by his light, 98. All greatness is in, 230. All true glory rests, 60i. And by succession, 297. All habits gather, 121. All truth is precious, 583. And cables crack, 473. All hail, he cry'd, 72. All turn'd their sides, 6Ii. And cards are dealt, 95, 554. All happy peace, 227. All unsustain'd, 384. And chaff with eddy, 52i. All has its date, 124. All was common, 28. And cheerful chanticleer, 362. All he described, 576. All was jollity, 303. And chiefless armies, 64. All heart they live, 5ro. All was so still, 376. And deeds could only, 239. All hearts in love, 322. All will spy, 666. And even calm, 477. All human business, 203. All wit does but, 648. And even while Fashion's, 176. All human race, 408. All with a border, 220, 581. And ever, against, 367. All human virtue, i58. All with one consent, 276. And fie on fortune, 205. All human wisdom, 644. All within with flowers, 295. And for his dreams, 249. All human wit, 653. All ye woods, and trees, 566. And for the heavens, 518. All in the Downs, 472. Almighty crowd, 427. And forced AEneas, 474. All is best, though, 435, 645. Almighty Power, 425. And four fair queens, 293. All jealousy, 271. Almighty vanity, 593. And fry'rs, that through, 620. All look up, 29I. Alone amid the shades, 329. And glory long has made, 221. All mankind, I29. Alone by my fireside, 723. And gospel light, 164. All manners take, 335. Alone by the Schuylkill, 456. And had he not long, 325. All men think, 138. Alone sometimes, I42. And half had stagger'd, 49. All men will try, 530. Along the crisped, 523. And haply, as the, 672..All murders past, 235. Along the moorish, 524. And hark how blithe, 8i. All my engagements, 460. Along the shore, 457. And he that can, 32. All nature feels, 642. Along the stream, I73. And hence one master-passion, 392. All nature is but art, 91, 374, 435. Along these lovely, 499. And her base elfin, 92. All nature laughs, 234, 540. Along those blushing, 83. And her brow clear'd, 164. All nature motrns, 438. Already we have conquer'd, 6io. And her fair eyes, 166. All night I slept, 487. Although I joy in thee, 326. And here and there, 395. All of a tenor was, 337. Although we boast, 64I. "And here she came," 580. All ofus have cause, 51i9. Am I call'd upon, 478. And here th' access, 72. All other debts, 322. Ambition sigh'd, 34. And here's to the friend, 728. All our glory extinct, 221. Ambition, the disease, 33. And hie him home, i6i. All outward wisdom, 579. Ambitious Turnus, 234. And homeless near, 250. All pain and joy, 274. Ambrosial night, 589. And hope and doubt, 256. All parts resound, 227. Amid an isle, 299. And how in fields, 73. All plumed like estridges, 77. Amid the main, 6io. And I so ravish'd, 478. All-potent Flattery, 188. Amidst corruption, 599. And I went mourning, 678. All private virtue, 396. Amidst them stood, 574. And if division comes, 339. ~"All ready?" cried the, 48I. Amidst whole heaps, 61. And if each system, 2I3. All seems infected, 345. Among th' assertors, 44I. And if that wisdom, 33I. All she did, 39I. Aniong the crooked lanes, 286. And if the boy, 550. All should unite, 266. Among unequals, 494. And if we do but watch, 450, 699. All shun the raging, 524. Anmoret l my lovely foe, 94, i66. And in clear dream, 247. All soft'ning simples, 402. Amplitude almost immense, 5i7. And in the depth, 636. All sounds on fret, 366. An age that melts, 22. And in the mixture, 593. All that cheers, 304. An age they live, 303. And in the symmetry, 70. All that I ask, 309. An aged holy man, r42. And, indeed, her chief, 694. All that live must die, i6i. An ancient augur, 278. And is this the old, 629. All the beauties, 63. An anxious stomach, 268. And Katerfelto, with his hair, 236. All the budding hlionours, I94. An author thus, 58. And learn the luxury, 225. All the cataracts, 438. An author l'Tis a, 58. And leaves the semblance, 346. All the gazers,, 164. An effeminate, 457. And let fair Venus, 328. All the night, 359. An elegant sufficiency, 244 And let the aspiring, 329, 722. All the priests, 425. An empty form, 264. And let the Graces, 408. All the prophets, 444. An excellent thing, 66i, 68i. And let the roaring, 372. All the quire was graced, 92. An eye's an eye, 264. And life more perfect, 178. All the regions, 443. An haggard hawk, 8o. And lives to clutch, 42I. All the rich mines, 725. An hard and unrelenting, 463. And loathful idleness, 264. All the souls, 445. An hideous figure, 387. And loolks commercing, I65. All the stored vengeances, 266. An honest man, 238, 250. And made the stoutest, 545. All the swains that there, 121. An host, 5i8. And many a lowly firiend, 726. All the tributes, 182. An hotr before, 360. And marrying divers, 440. All the volumes, 402. An idler is a watch, 263. And may at last, 22. All the wide extended, 47. An infant Titan, 236. And mighty poets, 425. All the world by T'hee, 223,696. An iron slumber, 228. And much more honest, 46. All the world's a s 1age,i45, 696. An oak whose boughs, 577. And must I own, 322. All the world's bravery, 537. An oath is a recognizance, 38o. And nature which, 372. All these a milk-white, io6. An old man broken, 24. And near the spot, 577. All these and more, 274. An ox that waits, 26. And ne'er did Grecian, 464. All these are, 373. And after him, 457. And nightly, meadow fairies, 168. All these received, 73. And after to his palace, 371. And novel (witness, i86. All these true notes, 265. And aged ears, 257. And now and then, 55o. All these with ceaseless, 222. And all around was verdure, 577. And now approach'd, 470. All things are but, 5o. And all may do, 33g. And now, as oft, 429. All things are hush'd, 376. Andall my plants, 292. And now fair Phctbus, i62. All things but one, 246. And all that else, 232. And now he has, 408. All thiiigs by experience, I63. And all the question, 435. And now her hope, 255. All things decay, 299. And Ardennes waves, 607. And now I faint, 700. All things received, 432. And, as a bird, 430. And now, in madness, 270. All things that we, 227. And as for you, 592. And now in the forest, 572. All this he understood, 437. And as his actions, 528. And now oflove, 527. All this in blooming youth, 709. And as I wake, 367. And now, philanthropy, 725. AJI this, without a gloss, I24. And as if beasts, 440. And now the field of death, 6.1, INDEX OF FIRST LIZNES. 739 And now the house, 420. And when the shining, 503. As fair Diana, 200. And now the prey, 037. And when th' are hamper'd, 287. As far as I could ken, 523. And now the thicken'd, 438. And when thou think'st, 507. As fast lock'd up, 488. And now there came, 636. And when two hearts, 302. As folks, quoth Richard, 070. And now they throng, 067. And when you crowd, 245. As for the women, 666. And now time's, 556. And when you stick, o04. As from the senses, 643. And now unveil'd, 674. And where the vales, 29o. As fruits ungrateful, 392, 599. And now with shouts, 614. And while it lasts, 286. As full, as perfect, 332. And now, without, 444. And while the face, 407. As full of spirit, 54I. And npw your, 340. And while they break, 096. As gentle shepherd, 062. And nymphs were there, 239. And while this famed, 383. As he lay along, 577. And oft, as ease, 450. Asd who but wishes, 386. As he that hath been, 38I.'And oft, at midnight, 475. And why should such, 620. As Hesiod sings, 26. And oft himself, 393. And winter, lingering, 637. As high turrets, 26i. And oft whole sheots, 27. And with each end, 286. As his doubts, 462. And oft with holy, 365. And with them the Being, 714. As hoary frost, 579. And oh! that pang, 234. And worldly is that heart, 694. As I blow this feather, i86. And on this forehead, 23. And ye high heavens, 520. As I did stand, 200. And parrots, imitating, 73. And yet, as aigels, 149, 493. As I interpret, I15. And poor iMlisfortune, 595. And yet, believe me, 672. As I listen'd to thee, 545. And rash enthusiasm, 334. And yet, methinks, I23. As I was then, 295. And rival all but, 47. And yet no doubts, 422. As if earth too narrow, 6oo. And say, without, 249, 664. And yet the lights, 164. As if Mlisfortune, 230. And see the rivers, 454. And yet this sinfiul, 654. As if there were degrees, 246. And set soft hyacinths, i9o. And you, brave Cobham, 392. As if thy waves, 457. And shall grace, 227. And you, fair widow, 363. As if to every fop, 9go. And she that was, 63. Angel of dulness, 154. As if with sports, 532. And should my youth, 721. Angels are bright still, 38. As in a drought, 73. And sin's black dye, 21. Angels, by imperial, 37. As in beauty, 15o. And since that plenteous, 224. Angels of life and death, 229. As in bodies, 509.. And since the rabble, 443. Anger is like, 38. As in perfumes, 666. And Sleep must lie, 492. Anger would indite, 48. As in smooth oil. 653. And slight withal, 346. Angry Skelton's breathless, 49. As ii some weather-glass, 323. And sooner may a, 150, I76. Announced by all the, 637. As in unrepented, 448. And sovereign law, 290. Another Flora there, 095. As into air, i32. And stoic Franklin's, 47. Another like fair tree, 579. As is the built, 469. And storms with rival, 522. Aniother nymph, 67. As lamps burn silent, 65. And straight with inborn, 357. Another Phoebus, I21. As letters some hand, 348. And strangers with, 26o. Another way I have, 78. As life's unending, 612. And the cherubic host, 366. Antaeus could, by magic charm, 94. As love can exquisitely, 326. And the gilded car, 122, 539. Anxious cares, 318. As many and as well-born, 36. And the great Lord, 573. Anxious pains, 285. As many farewells, 519. And the large musing, 163. Apicius, thoi didst. 283. As masters in the, 388. And the night, 377. Aping the foreigners, o5i. As men of breeding, 650. And the rude notions, iig9. Apollo check'd my pride, 28. As much love, 323, 452. And the stern joy, 6o5. Apulian farms, 26. As one affright, i82. And the storm is abroad, 522. Arcadia's flowery plains,'i90. As one condemned, 18o. And the tame demon, 220. Are domestic comforts, 596. As one who in some, 147. And then mortal ears, 365. Are not our liberties, 415. As one who long in, Io7. And then, that hope, 256. Are these things, then, 202. As one who, walking, 588. And then the justice, 276. Arethey not senseless, 5o8. As once inclosed, 673. And there was mounting, 607..Are we condemn'd, 178. As our high vessels, 472. And there's a lust, 462. Are we not one? 340. As rivers lost, 454. And there's a voice, 532. Are you so gospell'd, 428. As rivers, though they, 400. And this fell, 437. Argos, now rejoice, 6oo. As Rochefoucault his maxims, 54 And this is woman's, 669. Arion, when through, 370. As shades most sweetly, 652. And this of all, 89. Arise, tiue judges, 275. As shepherd's cur, 468. And this you see, 467. Arise, ye subtler spirits, 309. As some sad turtle, 17. And those who heard, 479. Aromatic plants bestow, i8. As some to church, 446. And thou art dead, 124. Around him dance, 19o. As some to witness, 584. And thou, my soul, 506. Around its entry, 484. As soon as Phoebus', 440. And thou, sweet poetry, 4Io0. Around me the steed, 608. As subjects then, Ii2. And though myself, 264. Aromund Sebago's lonely lalke, 58i. As surfeit is, 185. Aind though, perchance, 493. Around the field, 521. As sweet and musical, 241. And though the ancients, ii8. Around the throne, 720. As the chameleon, 186. And though the villain, 594. Array'd in ephods, 194. As the day begins, 79. And through the night, 356. Arrived there, the little house, 2o3. As the earth, 272. And thus the sweet, 408. Arrows fled not, 617. As the great lamp, 541. And'tis remarkable, 385. Art from that fund, 43. As the greatest curse, 416. And, to be plain, 452. Art is long, 557. As the lightest, 466. And to be wroth, 3o8. Art thou not fatal, 264. As the man beholds, 665. And to say truth, 707. Art thou so base, 423. As the moon, i82. And, touch'd with miseries 406. Art thou thus bolden'd, 335. As the morning steals, 360. And trick them up, 236. Artificer of fraud, 070. As the sharpest, 507. And truth severe, 584. Artist divine, 44. As the snake, 68. And weep and howl, 624. Artist unseen! 64I. As the sun breaks, 253. And well beseems, 274. Artists and places, 44. As th' untaught accident, 9I. And well our Christian, 640. Arts still follow'd, 44. As the world's sun, 537. And were there rightful, 235. As a beam o'er the, 494. As then the soul, 507. And what a trifle, 162. As a ship, 471. As Thessalian steeds, 64. And what is faith, 063. As a woodcock, 79. As they ralke, 32. And what is fame, 274. As an eagle seeing, 80. As things seem large, 154. And what is friendship, 209. As are those dulcet, 340. As thou these ashes, 55, 728. And what is most, 425. As callow birds, 72. As thought was visible, 88. And what still more, 362. As chymists gold, 288. As through the flow'ring, 095. And whatso heavens, 198. As custom arbitrates, 120. As through the land, 55I, 634. And when a damp, 55. As doth the pith, 025. As thus into the quiet, 59o. And when a lady's, 667. As empty clouds, 523. As thus the snows, 642. And when once, 307. As every day thy mercy, 582. As thy strutting bags, 59. 740 INDEX OF FIRST IlAES. As tides at highest, 177. At sight of thee, 94. Be not diffident, 645. As'tis a greater, 387. At some dear idle, 4I4. Be not dishearten'd, 94. As torrents in the drouth, 133. At sunset to their ship, 357. Be not over-exquisite, 41. As veils transparent, 528. At that tribunal, 58. Be not the first, 176. As Venus' bird, 79. At the approach, 562. Be not with honour's, 33. As we do often see, 524. At the close, 376. Be obedient, and retain, 316. As we do turn, 212. At the first shock, 6i8. Be opposite all planets, 46. As well we know, 447. At the whisper, 434. Be pleased your, 4I7. As when a lion, 378. At thirty, man, 432. Be sad, good brothers, 504. As when a piece, 87. At this one stroke, 209. Be secret and discreet, i67. As when a scout, 358. At this the knight, 437. Be silent always, I04, 545. As when a ship by, 47I. At this, with look, 441. Be silent and beware, 483. As when a ship that, 472. At threescore winters', 656. Be strong to bear, 532. As when a shipwright, 47I. At thy command, 542. Be subjects great, 411. As when a sort, 355. At Will's, i20. Be sure a general, 3I3. As when a soul, 636. At your age, 24. Be sweet to all, 630. i-_s when a wave, 475. Atheist, use thine eyes, 112. Be that blind bard, 47. As when fierce northern, 568. Attemper'd suns arise, 542. Be the fair level, 303. As when heaven's fire, 574. Attempt the end, 526. Be thou as chaste, 88. As when in tumults, 442. Attend the court, 334. Be thoutas thou wast, 322. As when loud winds, 58o. Augurs, that understood, 78. Be thou the rainbow, 2`4. As when of old,:56. Aurora had but, 356. Be thrifty, but not covetous, 6o. As when some writer, 42I. Aurora sheds, 36i. Be to her merits, 674. As when the sea, 381. Auspicious chief, 36. Be to her virtues, 674. As when the stars, 5i6. Auspicious hope! 254. Be wise to-day, 139, 648. As when the sun, 539, Authority kept up, 20. Be wise with speed, 139, I97. As when two brethren, 364. Authors alone, 57. Be wisely worldly, 646. As when two rams, 467. Authors are judged, 57. Be you contented, 292. As when two winds, 523. Authors are partial, 58. Bear me, Pomona, 215, As where a shepherd, 468. Authors now find, 58. Bear me, some god, I02, I05, 498. As where the Almighty's, 3o6. Autumn succeeds, 59. Beasts can lilke, 267. As where the present, 5I2. Autumn vigour gives, 30. Beauteous as vision, 65. As wintry winds, 521. Autumnal heat declines, 59. Beauteous flowers, i89. As women yet who, 679. Aventinus drives his chariot, 258. Beauteous Helen, 64. Ask me no more, 515, 664. Averse alike to flatter, i88. Beauties in vain, 67. Ask men's opinions, 4I9. Avoid both courts, 204. Beauties, like tyrants, 67. Ask not the cause, 5I2. Avoid extremes, i63. Beauties that from worth, 699. Ask not what pains, 289. Avoid the politic, 418. Beautiful as sweet, 724. Ask of the learned, 297. Awake the pert, 346. Beautiful isles, 567. Ask of yonder argent, 518. Awalke, thou sluggard majesty, 282. Beauty a monarch is, 64. Ask the faithful youth, 546. Away, and mock the time, 263. Beauty, and youth, 63. Ask thou the citizens, 77. Away, away, ye notes, 654. Beauty does vanish, 67. Ask, What is human life, 30. Away from the dwellings, 6I9. Beauty, frail flow'r, 388. Ask you what provocation, 585. Away the fair, 480. Beauty is a witch, 68. Ask you why Phryne, 46. Away! though parting, 343. Beauty is but a vain, 67. Ask'd if in husbandry, 26. Away! we know, 363. Beatuty is excell'd, 66. Asleep and naked, 273. Away! ye scum, 399. Beauty is nature's brag, 66. Aspiring, factious, 297. Awftl Rhadamanthus, 275. Beauty is nature's coin, 66. Aspiring to be gods, 34. Awhile, were weeds, I93. Beauty, like ice, 63. Assail'd by scandal, 462. Awkward and supple, i88. Beauty or wit is all, 63. Assert, ye fair ones, 675. Beauty stands, 66. Astrologers that future fates, 46. Beauty, sweet love, 63. At a stately sideboard, I84. B. Beauty! thou wild, 63. At all I laugh, 286. Beauty, wealth, and wit, 313. At bar abusive, 295. Bacchus, that first, 269. Beauty, wit, high birth, 67. At death's toil, 138. Bad men boast, 34. Beauty's empires, 69. At distance, through, 35I. Bad men excuse, 448. Because I cannot flatter, I76. At each assize, 289. Balm trickles through, 5700 Because its blessings, 223. At eve last midsummer, 485. Banish'd from courts, 584. Because of old, 671. At ev'ry close, 499. Banquo! Donalbain! 488. Before decay's effacing, 123. At every sentence, 528. Banquo! thy soul's flight, 247. Before her face, 549. At fear of death, 132. Bartering his venal wit, 262. Before his sacred name, II9, 4I0o At first, in Rome's, 2I9. Base envy withers, I58. Before I be convict, 293. At first she flutters, 72. Base rivals, who, I16. Before I trust, 674. At harvest-home, 29. Batter'd byhis lee, 470. Before me lay. 462. At his birth, 444. Be a good soldier, 495. Before our farther way, 178. At his command, 259, 52I. Be advised for the best, 342. Before tempestuous, 5I5. At his warning, 5II. Be better suited, I53. Before the battle, 6Io. At home surrounded, 230. Be calm in arguing, 42. Before the curing, 403. At home the hateful, 4I7. Be cool, my friend, 465. Before the day, 484. At land and sea, 609. Be factious for redress, 233. Before the dore, 4Qi. At last a falling, 382. Be fair or foul, 274. Before the downfall, i69. At last a soft, 367. Be Homer's works, 51. Before the sea, 112. At last a sudden, 555. Be honest poverty, 422. Before the whistling, 47I. At last divine, 365. Be it a weaklness, 707. Befriend me, 378. At last fair Hesperus, 36I. Be it my wrong, 700. Begin, auspicious boy, 95, 362. At last such grace, 342. Be it ounce, or cat, 49. Begin when the slor, 28. At last the golden, 36I. Be it thy course, 42I. Begin with sense, 466. At least on her, 670. Be it what it may, I23. Begone, my cares, 449. At length Erasmus, 5I. Be just in all thy actions, 278. Begone, ye critics, 51. At length his lonely, 95. Be just in all you say, 278. Behind her death, 130. At length I drop, 118. Be kindred and relation, 25I. Behind the master walks, 32. At length.in sleep, I47. Be lion-mettled, 437. Behold, I27. At length I've acted, 661. Be merry, and employ, IIo. Behold four kings, 281. At length the muses, 289. Be merry, be merry, 476. Behold how high, 52I. At length the world, 359. Be mindful, 29. Behold! if fortune, 204. At Midsummer down, 32. Be mindful, when invention, 270. Behold, in awful march, 6o6. At once, array'd, 220. Be niggardly of advice, 60. Behold Sir Balaam, 435. At once they gratify, I84. Be not always, 35I. Behold the child, 332, 7I8. INVDE~X OF FIRST LINE S. 74 Behold the English, 384. Black was the forest, 298. Business might shorten, 426. Behold the groves, 639. Black with surrounding, i98. Busy angels spread, 38. Behold the heav'ns, 426. Bland as the morning, 536. But a smooth and, 337. Behold the law, 288. Bleed, bleed, poor country, 591. But after labours, 283. Behold the locks, 236. Bless'd be the hour, 587. But, alas! no sea, 328. Behold the man, 62I. Bless'd paper credit, 224. But all is calm, 450. Behold the market-place, 93. Blessed, thrice blessed days, 82. But all the story, 176. Behold the place, 354. Blessings be with them, 4i1. But an old age, 25. Behold the threaden, 472. Blest are they, 229. But ancient itiends, 2io. Behold the trees, 570. Blest are those, 205, 277. But apt the mind, 644. Behold the turtle, 363. Blest be those feasts, I83. But as the slightest, 297. Behold those arts, 44. Blest peer! his great, 227. But battle shout, 6i8. Behold Villario's, eo8. Blest power of sunshine, 539. But beauty's triumnph, 66. Beholding thus, 249. Blest tears of soul-felt, 548. But by your father's work, 36. Being but young, 370. Blest with a taste, 84. But can she love, 507. Being incensed, 640. Blind of the future, 439. But can there grow, 7t3. Being moody, 392. Blind to former as to future, 179. But care in poetry, 410o. Being not propt, 36. Blinded greatness, 33, 230. But chaste Diana, 402. Being once chafed, 38. Blinded in youth, 669. But come, thou goddess, 352. Believe me, fi-iends, 427. Bliss, as thou hast part, 82 But come, ye generous, 1i3. Believe not that the, 325. Bliss was it in, 724. But could you be content, io6. Believe not these, 344. Blood, death, and deathful, I30. But could youth last, 320. Believe thyself, thy eyes, i66. Blood hath been shed, 294. But dearest heart, 300. Belinda and her bird, 662. Blood, rapine, massacres, 64. But death comes not, I30. Belinda still her, 487. Blow, blow, thou, 265, 640. But deep words, 683. Beneath a sculptured, 464, Blow, winds, go. But direful, deadly, 137. Beneath a verdant, 53. Blown roses, 458. Buit does not nature, 389. Beneath each lamp, 562. Blunt not his love, 32I. But dreadful is their doom, 462. Beneath one law, 4I7. Blunt the sense, 42. But dreams fill oft, 146. Beneath our humible, io8. Boastful and rough, 83. Buit errs not nature, 373. Beneath the lamp, i5i. Bold is the critic, ti9. But even then, 360. Beneath the mighty, 382. Bold were the men, 476. But ever anctd anon, 347. Beneath this shade, io6. Boldly perform'd, 452. But farewell, kisg, 206. Beneath those rugged elms, 229. Bone-weary, mnany-childed, 629. But fill their pur'se, 529. Beniglhted wanderers, 60, 260. Books are not seldom, 83. But flattery never, 287. Bereave me not, 704. Books are part, 84. But for my tears, 549. Bereaved of happiness, 243. Books are yours, 85. But for your words, I57. Bermudas wall'd with rocks, 216. Boolks cannot always, 84. But fortuniie there, 203. Beroe but now, 21. Books should to one, 84. But friendly fairies, i69. Bertram has been taught, 334. Bootless speed, III. B3ut from the breezy, 384. Beside the bed, 128. Born to tihe spacious, 226. But God has wisely hid, I77. Besides, he's lovely, 66. Borne on the swelling, 368. But God my soul, 427. Besides, he was a shrewd, 399, Both adorn'd their age, 143. But grant our hero's hopes, 296. Besides materials, iii. Both all things vain, 593. But grant that actiois, 92. Besides, thou art a beau, I97. Both contain, 466. But grant that those, 230. Best of fruits, 215. Both gallant brothers, 252. But happy they, 342. Best states, contentless, 1o3. Both house and hoimestead, 52I. But, hark! iny pulse, 129. Bestow, base man, i8S. Both must alike, ii8. 3But, hark! what shriek, 475. Bestow, dear Lord, 707. Both orators so much, I56. But harm precedes, 477. Bethinlk thee on her virtues, 6oo. Both ways deceitful, 34. But he deep-musing, io99. Bets at the first, 218. Both would their, 674. But he whose noble, II5. Better at home, 22. Boundless intemperance, 270, 4I9. But he whose word, 204. Better be withI the dead, io0. Bosszybeus, who could, 366. But health consists, 245. Better gleanings, 26. Boys immature, 408. Bit hear, oh, hear, 41I. Better to dwell, 206. Boys imust not have, 23. But her oiwn king, 456. Between the statues, 463. Bracelets of pearl, 67. But here tilhe roses, 458. Between two havwks, 78. Brand not their actions, 406. But his doom, too. Betwixt th' extremes, i63. Brave followers, yonder stands, 200. But his flaw'd heart, 393. Betwixt the midst and these, ix2 Breaking off the end, 137. But hoary winter, 634. Betwixt the prince, 4i6. Breathed in vain, 663. But how perplex'd, 329. Betwixt them both, 25. Breathes tleere a man, 397. Bu3it how the fear, 398. Betwixt two rows, 234. Breathless and tired, 437. But I love you, 663. Beware of desperate, I40, 532. Bred up in grief, 232. But I remember now, 225. Beware of fraud, t86. Brief as the lightning, 379. But if his soul, 2i6. Beware what earth, 245. Briefly die their joys, 720. But if in noble minds, 9o. Beware what spirit, 5II. Bright as doth the, 361. BLIut if thy passions, 39I. Beyond, 192. Bright as the deathless gods, 244. But if to fatme, 172. Beyond is all abysS, i6i, Brighit as the sun, i65. But if with bays, 454. Beyond thie fall, 48I. Bright Eliza, 4I9. But if you'll prosper, 22. Beyond the fix'd, 335. Bright Helen mix'd, 343. But ill expression, 528. Beyond thle infinite, 350. Bright image of the early years, 723. But in disparity, 543. Beyond the smiling, 621. Bright seraph! tell, 517. But, in her temple's, I54. Bid Amaranthus, 9gI. Brightly, sweet summer, 74. But in that instant, 347. Bid her exalt, 3o3. Brimful of learning, II3. But inborn work, 666. Bid her instant wed, 340. Bring flowers to crown, 19t. But infinite in pardon, 389. Bid her steal, T94. Bring me the fairest; 54I. But is't not presumsption, 409. Bid him bring his power, 235. Bring the rathe primrose, 192. But is it thus, 58. Bid that welcome, 202. Bring them for food, 29. But is no rank, 502. Bid the cheek, 36o. Bring then these blessings, St. But I've already, 285. Bid the labeorious, 29. Britain, changeful, 96. But just disease, 330. Bid them come, 490. Broad are these streams, 525. Bit Knowledge to their eyes, 557Bigoted to this idol, 172. Broad o'er my head, 580. But lasting charity, 93. Birds and beasts, 267. Brothers, the day declines, 566. But let eternal infamy, 6o8. Birds and flowers, 6i9. Brown groves, 321. But let inviolate truth, 583. Black brows, 68. Brunetta's wise in actions, 582. But let not all the gold, 250. Blackde ebon only, 568. Brutes find out where, 268. But let the bold, 102. Blacke from the stroke, 580, Build me straight, 471. But, light and airy, i03. Black is the badge, 379. Burning ships, 476. But look, the morn, 360. Blackde walnuts, 572. Burns o'er the plough, 49. But love had clipp'd, 3o0. 742 INVDEX Of FIRST LIVES. But man we find, 333. But well I wot, 380. By the vocal woods, I49. But mighty nature, 356. But were thy years, 327. By-thee, 93. But mine the sorrow, 497. But what a thoughtless, 333. By these, and the joys, 728. But more have been, 59. But what avail, 205, 590. By thine own tongue, 292. But mortals know, 43I. But what good came, 6i8. By this face, 42I. But most she fear'd, 563. But what in oddness, 55. By this scimitar, 6i6. But my poor heart, 325.' But what so pure, 651. By this the brides, 87. But my rude music, 372. But when a thousand, 200. By this the drooping, 380. But never was there, 334. But when the battle-trumpet, 606. By this, the northern, 520. But no authority, 410. But when the smoother, 570. By those tresses unconfined, 236. But no frail man, 123. But when the western, 27. By thrift my sinking, 422. But none, ah! none, 63. But when to mischief, 595. By thwarting passions, 393. But now no face, 103, i81. But when vain doubt, i8i. By thy each look, 329. But now our fears, 255. But when your troubled, 397. By thy example, 162. But now the arbitrator, 135. But whethei marriage, 337. By thy kind pow'r, 112. But now the clouds, 359. But while hope lives, 87. By viewing nature, 373, 469. But now the trumpet, 606. But who can youth, 709. By weak'ning toil, 23. But now these epicures, 400. But who shall tax, 531. By what elastic, 524. But, O! for the touch, 363. But who the melodies, 355. By which the beauty, 155. But, O! thou bounteous, 222. But who will call, 172. By woe the soul, 659. But o'er the twilight, 345. But whosoe'er it was, 86. But of the clock, 99. But why, ah, tell me, 548. But of this frame, 430. But why, alas, 265. C. But oh, that treacherous, 170. But why must those, 99. But old god Saturn, 556. But why so fair, 5r4. Caesar, the world's, 429. But on his breast, 445. But wisdom peevish, 646. Calchas, the sacred seer, I97, 218. But once put out, 135. But with more lucky, 45. Call her the metaphysics, 402. But our desires', 696. But words are things, 681. Call in sweet music, 364. But pause, my soul, 407. But would you sing, 479. Call it not vain, 424. Lut peaceful kings, 28o. But write thy best, 528. Call round her tomb, 216. But pleasures are, 406. But yet, I say, 5S5. Call the creatures, 423. But rebel wits, 651. But yet I'll make, 279. Call up him, 544. But rising up, 242. But yet she listen'd, 433. Calliope with muses, 372. But sacred wisdom, 646. But yonder comes, 54I. Calm as the breath, i64. But safe repose, 476. But you are learn'd, 297. Calm on the bosom, 129. But say, Lucetta, 325. But you invert, 290. Calm thinking villains, 429. But see, how oft, 34. But you, loud sirs, 237. Calm was the day, 122. But see the fading, 59. But you with pleasure, 1I7. Calmly he look'd, 132. But seldom (as if, 528. But youth, the perishing, 709. Calmness is great, 226. But Shakspeare's magic, 49. By a clear well, 704. Can any dresses, 15o. But since, alas, 226. By a divine instinct, 268. Can any mortal, 66. But since the brain, 543. By a sad train, 352. Can blazing carbuncles, 273. But since thy veins, 624. By adversity are wrought, i8. Can Ceyx then sustain, 629. But since you take, 544- By all the tender, 658. Can fierce passion, io9. But sith now, 449. By all the vows, 605. Can flow'rs but droop, 089. Btt soft! what light, 389. By chase our long-lived, 26i. Can gold calm passion, 224, 244. But sorrow return'd, 146. By command, ere yet, 377. Can he a son, 447. But, spite of all, II4. By custom doom'd, 669. Can heav'nly minds, 656. But still as long as we, 694. By day the web, 666. Can I again, 317. But still he held, 629. By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 239. Can I retrench, io8. But still her lips, 390. By devastation the rough, 29. Can I want courage, 209. But still his tongue, 545. By dimpled brook, i67. Can it be that, 5o8. But such fine feeders, 182. By every hill, 572. Can kindness to desert, 543. But sure the eye, 173. By fair rewards, 424. Can knowledge have, 283. But tell me, Tityrus, 203. By fate the strength, 279. Can Music's voice, 588. But that broad causeway, 563. By fire, 33. Can she be faithful, 630. But that fromi uIs, 426. By fits my swelling grief, 23I. Can storied irn, 128. But that look, 576. By her awaked, 366. Can such things be, 535. But that our feasts, i86. By him lay, 483. Can syllogism set things, 42, 306. But the age, 415. By him that raised me, 2o3. Can the wiles of art, 225. But the base miser, 59. By his command we, 563. Can we forget, 443. But the day is spent, 529. By his distortions, 549. Can wealth give happiness, 453, 62i. But the gentlest, 367. By how much from, 18. Can you add guilt, 592. But the kind hosts, 26o. By hunger, that each, 269. Can you be so hard-hearted, 274. But then her face, 352. By ignorance is pride, 264.. Can you behold, 550. But then my study, 218. By improving what, 270. Can you on him, 646. But those as sleep, 478. By Jove the stranger, 260. Cannon to right of them, 618. But those I can accuse, 20I. By knowledge we do, 284. Canst thou not minister, 345, 659. But thou art fair, 23I. By love directed, 630. Canst thou, O partial, 490o. But thou bring'st, 648. By music minds, 368. Can't I another's, 27i. But thou in clumsy, 594. By one countless, 23. Caracci's strength, 388. But thou, O Hope, 254. By original lapse, 207. Cardan believed, 45. But thou, secsre, 203, 656. By our remembrances, 349. Care-charming sleep, 482. But thou the first, 424. By poets we are well, 328. Care is no cure, 89, 343. But thou who lately, 594. By Shakspeare's, jonson's, 143 Care keeps his watch, 490o. But thou who own'st, 547. By some haycock, 426. Care that is enter'd, 89. But thou wilt sin, 424. By sports like these, 96. Careful observers may, 438. But though I loved, 325. By strength, i58. Careless of thunder, 522. But though my cates be mean, 260. By that court, 328. Cares shall not keep, 485. I3ut though we fetch, 466. By that seed, 444. Captain, or colonel, 495. But thought's the slave, 304. By the blast, 465. Cast down thyself, 423. But through the heart, 272. By the dire fury, 632. Casting nets were spread, 39. But to the parting, 425. By the firelight's fitfiul, 6oi. Catch then, oh, catch, r29, 30I. But touch me, and, 461. By the help of these, 488. Catius is ever moral, I84. lut'twas a public feast, 182. By the revolution, 376. Cato's voice Was ne'er, 294. But various are the, 27. By the rushy-fringed bank, 574. Causes according, 400. But virtue too, as well, 6ot. By the soft green light, 7i2. Causes unjudged disgrace, 275. But we, brave Britons, 291. By the thunder's stroke, 568. Cease, 398. But we who give, 426. By the touch ethereal, 524. Cease, cease, 383. INZDEX o0 FIRST LINES. 743 Cease, every joy, 254. Come what come may, 559. Cursed be the man, 627. Cease, man of woman, 232, 304. Come, while the blossoms, 706. Curst be good haps, I4I. Cease, then, 398, 435. Come with words, 489. Curst be the verse, 4Io. Cease to lament, 233. Comets, importing, 4I9. Custom does often, 12I. Cedar and frankincense, 575S Comfort, dear mother, I35. Custom,'tis true, I2I. Cedar and pine, I07, 574. Command the assistance, 209. Cut off even, 478. Celestial light, 645. Commas and points, 118, 529. Cynthia, fair regent, 354. Celia, for thy sake, 329. Commend but sparingly, 423. Cellars and granaries, 142. Commonwealths by virtue, 4I5. Ceremoniously let us prepare, 260. Compared to thee, 620. D. Ceres, in her prime, 215. Compassionate my pains, 99. Certain laws, 29I. Compute the gains, 429, 725. Daffodils that come, 395. Certes, Sir Knight, I75. Conceit is still derived, 233. Dame Nature, 54, 203. Cervantes smiled, 47. Concluding all were desp'rate, II7. )amn with faint praise, II6, 424. Champing his foam, 258. Condemn'd on Caucasus, 3I4. Dan Chaucer, well of, 54. Chance, or forcefil destiny, I4I. Condemn'd to live, 590. Dan Pope, for thy, 53. Changelings and fools, 9I. Condemn'd to sacrifice, 96. Dancing sunbeams, 576. Chaos of thought, 332. Condemn'd whole years, 264. Dang'rous rocks, 475. Charge not in your, 5II. Condition, circumstance, 82. Darah, the eldest, 45I. Charge Venus to command, 3I9. Condorcet filter'd, 47. Dare to be great, 34. Charm by accepting, 94. Confed'rate in the cheat, 499. Dare to be true, 584. Charm'd by their eyes, 335. Confess thee freely, 477. Dark cloudy death, I36. Charm'd by these, 369. Confess'd from yonder, 590. DIark night, 379. Charming woman, 667. Confusion dwelt, 475. Dark power! with shudd'ring, 542. Chaste moral writing, 58, 4Ir. Congenial hope, 254. Darkness now rose, 589. Chaucer's worst ribaldry, 50. Congregated thrushes, 8. I)arkness, we see, 356, 376. Cheap, vulgar art, 682. Conjugal affection, 339. Dark'ning the sky, 472. Cheer'd with, 383. Conquests he strew'd, 516. Daughter of the rose, 64. Cheerful at morn, 29. Conscience is a blushing, IOI. Day dawns, the twilight, 541. Cheerful health, 246. Conscience is but a word, IoI. Day glimmer'd, 359. Cheerful looks make, 184. Consider, man, 33I. Day had awaken'a, 36I. Cheerless, unsocial plant, 567. Constant at church, 93. Day hath put on, 5I6. Cheerly on, 398. Constant you are, 465. Day's harbinger, I9I. Cherish'd with hope, 256. Constrain'd him in a bird, 73. Days of my youth, 723. Chide him for faults, 95. Consuls of mod'rate, 4I7. Deaf, giddy, helpless, 25. Child of despair, 533. Content with food, 183, 2I4. Deaf with the noise, IO9. Children blessings seem, 96. Content with poverty, 422. Dear countess! you have, I88. Children, like tender, I55. Contention, like a horse, 259. Dear hope, 255. Children to serve, 96. Convince the world, 584. Dear lovely bowers, 7Io. Children who gather, 70I. Convinced that noiseless, 446. Dear solitary groves, Io8. Chloe, blind to wit, 339. Convulsions rack man's, 402. Dear youth, by fortune, 329. Chloe thus the soul alarm'd, 94. Cool groves and living, 485. Dearly bought, 466. Choose an author, 58. Cool violets, I95. Death, I30. Christ's blood our balsam, 122. Coquet and coy, I05. Death, a necessary end, 136. Churl, upon thy eyes, i65. Cornwall's squab-pie, 184. Death and nature, 136. Circles are praised, 305. Corruption, like a general, 6o. Death becomes, I30. Cits and citesses, 499. Costly thy habit, I53. Death came on amain, 126. Clad in white velvet, I5o. Could any but, 287. Death, death! oh, amiable, I34. Clad like a country swain, 365. Could atoms, which, iii. Death from sin, 477. Clamorous our privacies, 250. Could eat the tender plant, 567. Death hath taken, 125. Clear-sighted reason, 440. Could he less expect, 228. Death is the crown of life, I38. Close by a softly, 146. Could I but live, 301. Death is the pledge, I29. Close observation, 272. Could pension'd Boileau, 50. Death is the port, 137. Close pent-up guilts, 235. Could the declining, 265. Death lies on her, I34. Close to the bay, 472. Could thirst of vengeance, 319. Death loves a shining, I38. Coffee which makes, 239. Could we make her, 678. Death makes no conquest, I74. Cold, hunger, prisons, 582. Could we not wake, I46. Death may be call'd, 532. Cold in the dust, 265. Could we whose laws, 5X8. Death never won, i78. Cold is that breast, i65. Could you hear, 656. Death only this, 508. Cold news for me, 19. Could you see, 3IO. Death stalks behind thee, 302. Comb down his hair, 24I. Could you with patience, 544. Death, that hath, 136. Combine together'gainst, 436. Couldst thou resign, io6. Death thou hast seen, 230. Come at once, 379. Count all th' advantage, 598. Death! to the happy, I37. Come, boy, and go, 440. Count that day lost, 6oo. Death unawares, I30. Come I but keep, 367. Countless the various, 593. Death was denounced, i26. Come, chase that, 548. Courage uncertain dangers, Io9. Death was the post, 476. Come, civil night, 379. Court virtues bear, 598. Death will dismiss me, 126. Come, Desdemona, 490. Courtling, I rather, ii6. Death's but a path, I3I. Come, gentle sleep, 493. Courts are theatres, 143. Deaths invisible, 126. Come, gentle spring, 5I4. Courts can give, 499. Death's what the guilty, 128. Come, leave the loathed stage, I44. Cover me, ye pines, 574. December hung her, 634. Come live with me, I07. Cowards die many times, III. Deduct what is, 595. Come, my fair love, 284. Cowards fear to die, III. Deep in a cavern, 354. Come, my lord, 24. Cow'ring low, 75. Deep in the palace, 569. Come not in terrors, 658. Crabbed age and youth, 729. Deep into some, i98. Come not, when I am, 55I. Creatures that lived, 74. Defaming as impure, 339. Come now, a rounded, I68. Creeping'twixt'em all, 2I3. Defer not till to-morrow, I39. Come, pensive nun, I5I. Crete's ample fields, 522. Degenerous passion, 667. Come, seeling night, 379. Critics I read, II9. Degrading prose, 530. Come, shepherds, 2i6. Critics I saw, II7. Deign in the passing, 296. Come, sisters, cheer we, I40. Critics in plumes, II4. Deign to be loved, 328. Come sleep, 0 sleep, 490. Critics on verse, 120. Delay is bad, 302. Come! the colours, 388. Critics to plays, 2I4. Delia, the queen of love, 70. Come then, come soon, 137. Cross to our interest, 386. Delightful praise, 458. Come then, my friend, 2io. Cry out upon, 45. Delightful task, 156. Come, Time, 56o. Crying they creep, 95. Deluded mortals, 186. Come, we all sleep, 486. Cultivate the wild, 44. Delve of convenient, 27. Come weep with me, 503. Curb that impetuous, ii8. Democritus, dear droll, 40I. Come, we'll e'en, Io7. Curse on th' unpard'ning, 289, 590. Demoniac frenzy, 344, 354. 744 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Demons found, i67. Done to death, 480. Each to these ladies, 327. Denied her sight, 548. Doom, as they please, 280. Each tree, 21i4. Denied what ev'ry wretch, 250. Dost see how unregarded, 69. Each verse so swells, 4II. Dennis and dissonance, 52. Dost thou behold, 25. Each wit may praise, 55. Departing spring, 5I2. Dost thou not know, 495. Each with a gigantic, 6i5. Dependants, friends, 66o. Dost thou use me as, 70. Eager to hope, 240. Depending vines, 215. Dotard, said he, 24. Earless on high, 5S. Descend, ye nine, 368. Doth even beauty, 69. Early, before the morn, 36i. Descending snows, 639. Doubtless all souls, 265. Early, ere the, 2i9. Describe the stars, 516. Doubtless there is, 507. Early, ere yet the, 358. Deserted at his utmost, 209, 265. Doubtful thoughts, 272. Earth hath this variety, 407. Design or chance, 634. Doubting things go ill, I43. Earth his uncouth, 155. Desire not to live, 560. Down, down, 456. Earth, in her rich, i5I, 155. Desire of praise, 425. Down fell the beauteous, 64. Earth receives, 305. Desire of wine, 269. Down from her eyes, 357. Earth smiles with flow'rs, 72. Desires composed, 548. Down her white neck, 236. Earth's highest station, i6o. Desire's the vast extent, 255. Down in valleys, 609. Earth's tall sons, the cedar, 567. Despair takes heart, 241. Down sunk the monster, 6o09. Earthly limbs and gross allay, i22. Despair, that aconite, 140. Down sunk the sun, 589. Earthly things do, 690. Despatch me quickly, i26. Down the smooth stream, 708. Ease in your mien, 336. Desperation, 420. Down through the crannies, 525. Ease to the body, 347. Despise the farce, 230. Dragg'd through the, 686. Easy in words, 530. Despond not: wherefore, 515. Draw forth the monsters, 76. Ecbatana her structure vast, 42. Desponding fear, x82. Draw him strictly so, i172. Ecstasy, 267. Destroy all creatures, 243. Draw me no constellations, 5i8. Edward and Henry, 229. Destruction sure, 132. Draw them to, 457. E'en not all these, 244. Determine on some course, 9I. Drawn into arms, 35. E'en rage itself, 369. Devouring Tinme, 559. Drawn with a team, 490. E'en the rough rocks, i89. Dewy sleep, 4.87. Drawn with the power, 241. E'en times are in, 557. Dext'rous the craving, 651. Dream after dream, 530. Eftsoons, O sweetheart, 314. Did chymic chance, iii. Dreams are but interludes, I46. Eftsoons the nymphs, 195. Did ever raven, 78. Dreams are toys,.149. Eight tall ships, 472. Did I but purpose, 340. Dreams, books, 85. Eighty odd years, 24, 503. Did I for this, 429. Dreams in their, 146. Either songster, 72. Did Raphael's, 387. Dreams of the summer, 486. Eloquence, with all, 157. Did we for these, 29. Drest her again, I53. Else had the spring, 503. Did we think, 58i. Drown'd in deep despair, 040. Elusive of the bridal day, 88. Didst thou but know, 323. Dry mourning will, 5oi. Embattled nations, 248. Didst thou taste, 231. Dryden himself, 49. Embattled troops, 603. Die he or justice, 444. Dull rogues affect, 405. Embrace again, my sons, 6ii. Die two months ago, 174. Dull sublunary loves, 309. Embroider'd so, 220. Diffusive of themselves, 543. Dulness delighted, I54. Emily dress'd herself, 237. Dim as the, 440. Duncan is in his grave, 489, 566. Empire! thou poor, 281. Dim sadness did, 460. Duncan's horses, 259. Empires by various, 409. Dire inflammation, 403. Dust on thy mantle, 534. Empires subversed, i8o. Direct not him, 9g. Duty by habit, I54. Empty of all good, 670. Disburthen thou, 215. D'ye think that, 417. Endless tears flow, 55i. Discomfort guides, 14T. Endure and conquer, 656. Discord l dire sister, 614. England hath long, 617. Discord, like that, 365. E. England now is left, 420. Discourse may want, 103. Enjoy the honey, 490o. Disdain not me, 68. Each bay, I87. Enjoy the present, 203. Dismiss thy fear, I77. Each beauteous flow r, 192. Enjoy your dear, 452. Dissembling for her sake, 615. Each bird and beast, 8i. Enlarge my life, 301. Dissembling sleep, 376. Each bird gives o'er, 70. Enough for half, 9o. Dissensions, like small, 436. Each by turns, 388. Enough for me, 479. Distemper'd zeal, sedition, 725. Each change of many, 49. Enough of battle's, 494. Distress'd myself, 99. Each day new wealth, 484. Enough to press, 406. Distrustful sense, 104, 466. Each delighted, 408. Enquire from whence, 528. Disturb him not, 235. Each drew fair characters, 9I. Ensample made of him, 342. Disuse me from the, 309. Each emanation, 598. Ensigns that pierced, 6c6. Diversified'midst, 529. Each finding, like a friend, II8, 2Io. Ent'ring with the tide, 469. Divine philosophy, 400. Each flower the dews, 587. Entire and sure, 419. Divines but peep, 429. Each heav'nly, 388. Envied Britannia, 576. Do as adversaries, 295. Each herb, 405. Envy not greatness, i58. Do but see his vice, 595..Each in his breast, 464. Envy, to which, i58. Do but think, 395. Each individual, 247. Envy will merit, I58. Do good by stealth, 225. Each lovely scene, 38I. Envy's a sharper spur, 56. Do I, like the female, 678. Each may feel, 9gI. Equal their flame, 140. Do I not in plainest, 433. Each might his, 466. Equality of two, 420. Do not, as some, 430. Each mind is press'd, 375. Equally inured, 353. Do not blast, 257. Each moment has its, 56i. Ere Gothic forms, 452. Do not cheat, 502. Each morn they waked, 479, 500o. Ere on thy chin, 240. Do not fall in love, 323. Each morning, when, 58i. Ere sin could blight, I24, 706. Do not look at life's, 502. Each muse in Leo's, 4o10. Ere the bat hath flown, 77, 379. Do not omit the, 489. Each must in virtue, 597. Ere the foundations, 274. Do not wantonly, 3o10. Each noble vice, 594. Ere the progressive course, 44. Do not weep so, 622. Each petty hand, 472. Ereto thy cause, 42I. Do public or domestic, 384. Each pleasing Blount, 494. Ere yet the salt, 340. Do then as your progenitors, 35. Each poet of the air, 412. Ere yet thy pencil, 389. Do thou, my soul, 436. Each poet with, 404. Errors, like straws, 584. Do what he will, 264. Each proselyte, 404. Errors not to be recall'd, iio. Do ye hear the children, 95, 622. Each sacred accent, I79. Errors of wives;', 338. Do you, who, 430. Each sees-his lamp, 509. Esteem we these, gI. Doctrine and life, too. Each several ship, 469. Eternal deities, 177. Does he fancy we can, 652. Each staunch polemic, 52. Eternal greens, 575. Does it not all mechanic, iii. Each substance of, 503. Eternal Hope, 254. Does not this wise, 536. Each thought was visible, 250. Eternal providence, 435. Domestic happiness, 249. Each to his proper fortune, 178. Eternal smiles, 494. iVDEX OF FIRST LINES. 745 Eternal spirit, 298. Fain would my muse, 513. Fate her own book, 177. Eternal spring, 5I2. Fair as the face, 90o. Fate makes you deaf, 178. Eternal sunshine, 103. Fair course of passion, 329. Fate sees thy life, 30I. Eterne alteration, 593. Fair daffodils, i9I. Fate, show thy force, I79. Eternity! thou pleasing, I6o. Fair eldest child, 377. Fate some future, I7. Eusden ekes out, 51. Fair fortune next, 202. Fate steals along, I77. Eve, thy contempt, 407. Fair from its humble, I92. Fate's dark recesses, 203. Ev'n a romance, 558. Fair hope! our earlier heav'n, 255. Fates! we will know, I79. Ev'n copious Dryden, 5I. Fair hypocrite, 262. Father of all, 223. - Ev'n fortune rules, 59I. Fair ideas flow, 388. Fathers that wear rags, 97. Ev'n goddesses are women, 629. Fair is my love, 69. Fathers their children, 342.. Even-handed justice,.279. Fair is!!he gillyflow'r, I9I. Faultless thou dropt, 207. Even he, 21I. Fair is the kingcup, i9i. Favour'd of heav'n, 63I. Ev'n he, whose soul, 363. Fair ladies, maslc'd, 458. Fear broke my slumbers, 484. Ev'n kings but play, I43. Fair laughs the morn, 7Io. Fear freezes minds, I8o. Ev'n not all these, 277. Fair Leda's twins, 5I5. Fear is a large promiser, I8o. Ev'n now, when silent, IIo. Fair nymphs and, 152. Fear is an ague, I8o. Ev'n now, while thus, 23I. Fair occasion shows, 252. Fear is my vassal, iii. Even rival wits, 53. Fair proud, now tell me, 432. Fear is the last, i8i. Even so by love, 720. Fair soul, since to the, 507. Fear is the tax, I8I. Even so luxurious, 305. Fair, sweet, and young, 709. Fear never yet, I86. Even so the soul, 509. Fair Thames she, 456. Fear no more, 523. Even such is time, 558. Fair virtue, should I, 597. Fear not the anger, I9. Ev'n suppler thanl, 666. Fair when that cloud, 432. Fear the just gods, 75. Even the peasant, 33I. Fairer she seem'd, I52. Fearless he sees, 597. Ev'n the tongues, 395. Fairer than fairest, 69, 244. Fearless of danger, i8i. Ev'n then, before, 239. Fairest blossom, 362. Feel darts and charms, IIo. Ev'n thought meets thought, 2o0. Fairest blossoms drop, 65. Fell the timber, 472. Ev'n when they sing, 28. Fairest of stars, 5I7. Fellows in arms, 59I. Ev'ning mist, i6I. Fairest piece, 43. Fetch me that flower, I66. Evening now approach'd, 358. Fairfax, whose name, 6I3. Fetter strong madness, 267. Ever and anon, 654. Fairies, black, gray, I68. Few admired the native, 63. Ever charming, 285. Fairies use flowers, i68. Few are so wicked, 624. Evergreen forest, 47. Fairy elves, i67. Few men dare show, I23. Ev'ry brow with cheerful, i82. Faith and hope, 93. Few-none-find what, 308, 337. Every busy little, 58. Faith builds a bridge, I38, i70. Few save the poor, 422. Every copse, 80. Faithful assertor, 396. Fidelity, that neither, 228. Ev'ry fix'd and ev'ry, 5I9. Fall to thy prayers, 240. Fie, fie, how franticly, 545. Every flexile wave, 524. Falling dews with spangles, 540. Fields are full of eyes, go. Every horse bears, 259. False eloquence, I57. Fierce Boreas drove, 522. Every inordinate cup, 272. False philosophy, 400. Fierce Boreas, with, 636. Every man, 523. False sorrow's eye, 504. Fierce faces threat'ning, 6I3. Every man in this age, 262. False world, good-night, 692. Fierce fiery warriors, 6I5. Ev'ry muse, 36i. False world, thou ly'st, 695. Fight valiantly, 87. Every night he comes, 32I. Falsehood and cowardice, 675. Figs there unplanted, 2i6. Ev'ry nymph, 474. Fame and censure, i8o. Fill'd with the sense, 585. Every one, 375. Fame, impatient of extremes, I73. Find all his, 337. Ev'ry one is eagle-eyed, IIr. Fame is a bubble, I75. Find-out some, 377. Every peevish, 419. Fame is no plant, 172. Finding force now faint to be, 24I. ETery pilot, 52I. Fame is the spur, I72. Fine fruits of learning, 296. Every scribbling man, 56. Fame is the thirst, I71. Fine thoughts are wealth, 698. Ev'ry sense the humour, 49I. Fame, not contented, I72. Fire and the axe, 581. Ev'ry senseless thing, 372. Fame of thy beauty, 70. Fired at first sight, 413, 7I8. Ev'rything that heard, 370. Fame, that delights, I74. Fired with the views, 457. Everything that is, 442. Fame, that her high worth, I73. Fires.oft are good, 30. Evil into the mind, i62, 552. Famed by thy tutor, I74. Fireside happiness, 250. Exact Racine, 52. Fame's high temple, I73. Firm and resolved, 698. Exalted hence, 155. Famous Greece, 44. Firm Doric pillars, 4I. Exalted Socrates, 49, 400. Fancies again are, 7i6. Firm we subsist, 207. Exalted souls, 392. Fancies and notions, 464. First a charming shape, 648. Exalting in triumph, 368. Fancy and pride, 432. - First follow nature, 374, 530. Examine how your humour, 26I. Fancy flows in, I75. First got with guile, 235. Example is a living, 263. Fancy then retires, 487. First guilty conscience, Ioo. Except I be by Sylvia, 78. Far along, 52I. First in man's mind, 283. Excursions are inexpiably bad, II9. Far be from hence, 269. First in the council-hall, Io03. Expand the passions, 722. Far eastward cast, 462. First in the fields, 639. Expatiate free, 332. Far from all resort, 352. First on thy friend, 2I3. Expectation whirls me, i63. Far from that hated, I4I. First, robed in white, I52. Expense, and after-thought, i40. Far greater numbers, 254. First she relents, 406. Experience is by, 559. Far in a wild, 498. First slave to words, 48I. Express thyself in plain, 528. Far other plaints, 477. First the sun, 539. Expression is the dress, 529. Farewell! if ever, 425. First, the two eyes, I64. Expunge the whole, 44. Farewell! says he, 390. First vegetive, 30I. Extended empire, 417. Farewell: the leisure, 326, 391. First, with assiduous care, 29. Extol not riches, 452. Farewell the tranquil, 6I7. First worship God, 427. Extremes in nature, I63. Farewell then verse, 585. Fit words attended, I57. Extremes of fortune, 202, 643. Farewell to earth, 726. Five girdles bind, 538. Eye hath not seen it, 246. Farewell, ungrateful, 38I. Five herds, five bleating, 467. Eye me, bless'd Providence, 435. Farewell, you flow'rs, 90o. Five hundred souls, 476. Eye Nature's walks, 118, 335, 374. Fashion,-a word, I76. Fixt and contemplative, 84. Eyes and ears, i65. Fashion, leader of a, I76. Flatter'd crimes, 189. Eyes are vocal, 547. Fast beside there, 525. Flattery, the dangerous, 187. Fast by the margin, 455. Flavia the least, 105. Fast by the throne, I73. Flesh is but the glass, I29. F. Fat fees from the, 295. Flies tow'rd the, 456. Fatal this marriage; 341. Flight cannot stain, 252. Fabius might joy, 295. Fate and the dooming gods, I78. Flirt-flirt-flirt, 677. Fade, flowers, fade, I96. Fate foredoom'd, I97. Flow'r, i92. Fain would I choose, 372. Fate has cramm'd, I78. Flow'rs, I93. 746 INDEX O F FIS T LIVES. Flowers are lovely, 707. For I am young, 3I2. For though in dreadful, 473. Flow'rs are strew'd, I9o. For I learn, 2io0. For though, in nature, 4II1 Flowers of all hue, 19I, 458. For I shall sing, 6io. For thy vast bounties, 86. Flow'rs, purple, blue, I94. For I was born to love, 3i9. For time will come, 210. Flows Yarrow sweet, 455. For if the sire be faint, 36. For Titan, by the, 231. Flush'd were his cheeks, 88. For if those stars, 45. For true repentance, 448. Fly drunkenness, 270. For, if we chance, 164. For unto knight, 327. Fly, envious time, 557. For if, when dead, i29. For vice, though frontless, 595. Fly, fly profane, 356. For in a government, 275. For vicious natures, 265. Fly from wrath, 6i8. For in my youth, 720. For virtue's self, 446. Fly in nature's, 373. For Indian spices, 224. For we are animals, 33I. Fly not yet, 378. For just experience, 226, 4I7. For we full many, 7I9. Fly the pursuit, 309. For know, Iago, 340. For weeks the'clouds, 554. Foe to loud praise, 297. For man to tell, 302. For well you know, I72. Foes to all living work, 40. For marriage is a matter, 340. For what are men, 425. Follow a shadow, 3I5. For me, my heart, i23, 622. For what can breed, 504. Follow, ye nymphs, 338. For me, my stormy, i28. For what has Virro, 546. Folly and vice, 411. For me the balm, 273. For what is glory, 22I. Folly may be in youth, 7I7. For mercy's sake, 349. For what the day, 357. Folly painting humour, 286. For my own share, 65. For when God's hand, II2. Fond.fool! six feet, 229. For my part, if a lie, I70. For when he dies, 44. Fond, foolish man, I25. For mysterious things, i69. For when no healing, 343. F'ond man! the vision, 333. For nature never gave, 648. For when she sorts, 507. Fond men, by passions, 452. For night's swift, 359. For when success, 3I8. Fond men! if we believe, I69. For no falsehood, I70. For when the fair, 509. Fondness it were for any, 328. For noonday's heats, I6I. For which the shepherds, 89. Foolish swallow, 7I. For, nor in nothing, 309. For while unhurt, 405. Fools ambitiously contend, 296. For not the ceaseless, 563. For who, to dumb, 128. Fools grant whate'er, 264. For not to irksome, 44I. For who will have, 446. Fools grin otn, 409.. For nothing lovelier, 63I, 670. For why should we, 506. Fools into the notion, 598. For nought so vile, 225. For winds, when homeward, 16i. Fools may our scorn, I58. For now began, 377. For wit and pow'r, 650. Fools that we are, 320. For now I stand, 384. For you alone, i69. Footprints that perhaps, 302. For now the devil, 553. For you, fair Hermia, 292. For active sports, 464. For numerous blessings, 423. For you there's rosemary, 640. For ah! my heart, 7I7. For of all moral, 596. For zeal like hers, 725. For as an eagre, 255. For often have you writ, 298. Forbidding ev'ry bleak, I99. For as by depredations, 175. For orders and degrees, 298. Force never yet, 3I4. For as his own bright, 306. For our reward, 290. Force would be right, 279. For, as wve see, 592. For patience, sovereign, 394. Forced by my pride, 436. For beauty in this world, 696. For Plato's lore sublime, 55. Forced by reflective, 44I. For beauty's tears, 547. For pleasures, vanities, 714. Forced compliments, 3I8. For contemplation he, 671. For pointed satire, 46I. Forced from her presence, I7. For cowslips sweet, I90. For praise that's due, i87. Forced into exile, 4i6. For deadly fear, 240. For praise too dearly, 424. Foreknowledge only, 2I7. For death's become, I28. For rhetoric he could, 452. Forests grew, I99. For do but note, 370. For rhyme the rudder, 452. Forever, fortune, 205. For each true word, 685. For rudest minds, 4Io. Forever in this humble cell, 26i. For eight slow-circling, 523. For see, the morn, 358. Forget not what, 445. For envied wit, 65I. For sepulchres, 556. Forgetful of the, 37I. For ev'n that, 422. For several virtues, 675. Forgive me that I, 325. For everyhour, 236. For should you to extortion, 59. Forgive the comment, 98. For every want, 407. For since mine eye, i8. Forgiveness to the injured, 20I. For fame'he pray'd, 426. For slander lives, 480. Form'd by some rule, 243. For fame with toil, 57. For so it falls out, 8i. Form'd by thy converse, I04, 335. For favours cheap, 277. For so our holy, 444. Former things, 393. For fear the stones, I95. For solitude, however, 497. Forth came that ancient, I53. For flax and oats, 28. For spirits, freed, 5II. Forthwith from dance, 12I. For fools rush in, I96. For spirits when they, 5Io. Forthwith the cited dead, I22. For forms of government, 4I8. For still methought, 72. Fortunate fields, 286. For freedom still, 206. For still the world, 402. Fortune came smiling, 202. For freedom's battle, 206, 298. For streaks of red, 215. Fortune confounds, 203. For from all, 373. For sundry foes, 28. Fortune in men, I5i. For glory done, 248. For Swift and him, 53. Fortune not much, 204. For gnarling sorrow, 504. For that fair female, 225. Fortune, that, with, 202. For gods, we are, 462. For that fine madness, 412. Fortune, the foe, 205. For gold his sword, 224. For the air of youth, 344. Fortune thus'gan, 352. For gold the merchant, 223. For the great dons, II5. Fortune's uDjust, 202. For government, 227. For the greater part, 37. Fortunes, however, friends, 3c9. For great the man, 404. For the hair droops, 236. Foul jealousy, 272. For harbour at a, 260. For the life, 395. Foul spirits haunt, 485. For having yet, 247. For the pious sire, 389. Foul subornation, 279. For he a rope, 400. For thee I dim, 57, 440: Foul with stains; 437. For he could coin, 68i. For thee Idume's, i99. Fountain of mercy, 228. For he who covets, 59. For thee, large bunches, 2I9. Fountains, and ye, 424. For he whose chin, 24I. For thee she' feeds her hair, 237. Four days will quickly, I49. For he writes not, 56. For thee the bubbling, 569. Fowls, by winter, 72. For her the limes, I93. For thee the fates, 408. Frail as summer's, 534. For her the spouse, 88. For thee the groves, 90o. Frailty gets pardon, 448. For her the unfading, 458. For them the Idtimaan, I98. Frame your mind, 352. For her, through Egypt's, 456. For then the hills, 483. France, hast thou yet, 6I7. For her true form, 372. For there no twilight, 587. France, whose armour, 6i6. For him I reckon, 598. For they that most, 35I. Free and familiar, 502. For him who lonely, 499. For this a hundred, 3I3. Free from all meaning, II5. For his chaste Muse, 50. For this'tis needful, 312. Free from th' impediments, Io2. For hope is but the dream, 256. For this, with soul devout, I42. Freedom and zeal, 206. For how can that be false, 583. For this ye know, 665. Freedom was first, 206. For I am nothing, ii9. For those that fly, 607. Freedom who loves, 206. For I am now, 656. For those who worship, 58o. Freely they stood, 208. INADEX OF FIRST LINES. 74 French laws forbid, 287. From this desire, 508. Give us light amid, 712. Frequeit' debauch, 270. From this grave, 449. Giving an account, 467. Fresh gales and gentle, 199. From this last toil, 119. Giving his reason, 136. Fresh roses bring, 458. From this light cause, 609. Glad I'd lay me, 487. Friend after friend, 2eo. From those great, 407. Glad of a quarrel, 57, 436. Friend, harrow in time, 32. From thoughtless youth, 707. Glad were the children, 70I. Friend of my y6uth, 719. From thy corporeal prison, 126. Gladly then he mix'd, 37. Friend to my life, 405. From thy foolish heart, 318. Glitt'ring stones, 62I. Friends in sable, 363. From thy new hope, 92. Gloomy sits the queen, 652. Friends, not adopted, 596. From toil he wins, 485. Gloomy winter's now awe', 641. Friendship above all, 22o. From vaster hopes, 62. Glories, like glow-worms, 222. Friendship has a power, 2I3. From veins of valleys, 569. Glorious dreams, 146. Friendship is constant, 212. From vulgar bounds, 43. Glory grows guilty, I74. Friendship is not, 208. From wars and from, 666. Glory is like a circle, 221. Friendship is the cement, 208. From wheat go and rake, 33. Glory like the dazzling, 22I. Friendship, lilke love, 209. From whence high Ithaca, 99. Glory like time, 221. Friendship shall still, 185. From whence th innumerable, 386. Gloster's show, 504. Friendship's an abstract, 2co. From winter keep, 467. Go, card and spin, 6o9. Friendship's an empty, 2I3. From women's eyes, c65, 676. Go first the master, 3x. From a mean stock, 36. From you bright heaven, 57. Go forth at eventide, 534. From a well confined, 93. Frontless and satire-proof, 460. Go forth at morning's, 538. From armed foes, 87. Frosts that constrain, 98. Go, mark the matchless, 434. From before her, 357. Frowning Auster, 438. Go, miser! go, 59. From branch to branch, 74. Fruit, like that, 2I4. Go not my horse, 565. From bright'ning fields, 536. Fruits from palm-tree, 2I5. Go now, go trust, 470, 605. From cloud to cloud, 524. Fruits of all kinds, 2I4. Go search it there, 599. From each tower's, 587. Fruits of more pleasing, 448. Go, signify as much, 1o8. From each tree, 72. Full fifty years, 639. Go soar with Plato, 52. From earliest infancy, 722. Full in the centre, 198. Go to a gossip's feast, 185. From earth all came, i33. Full in the midst, 156, 568, 57o. Go, wiser thou, 435. From Egypt arts, 44. Full many a stoic, 493. Go with me, 428. From every piercing, 655. Full many mischiefs, 39. Go with speed, 696. From fresh pastures, 32. Full nineteen sailors, 468. Go you, and where, 427, 489. From gilded roofs, 122. Full of musefil mopings, 267. Go-you may call, 345. From harmony, 365. Full on its crown, 215. God attributes to place, 460. From hence that gen'ral, 526. Full well hath Clifford, 385. God bade the ground, 455. From hence the fate, 426. Fully ripe, his swelling fate, 277. God, from Sinai descending, 29o. From hence the greatest, 59. Ftstian's so sublimely bad, ci8. God gave him reverence, 287. From her own head, 242. Fye l fye l unknit, 632. God gives us what, 426. From him will raise, 444. Fye, fye, unreverend tongue, 323. God hath bid dwell, 89. From his oozy bed, 456. God hath set, 284. From his side, 455. God in judgment just, 590. From hungry reapers, 245. G. God into the hands, 222. From jealousy's tormenting, 272. God is also in sleep, 147. From labour health, 284. Gad not abroad, 203. God marie the country, io6. From land a gentle, 354.'Gainst self-slaughter, 533. God made thee perfect, 207. From lowest place, 139, 253.'Gainst which a ship, 476. God might have bade, 192. From M'arlborough's eyes, 49. Gallant in strife, 495. God never had, 98. From Medway's pleasant, 454. Ganftide, who couldst, 48. God on thee, 332, 386. From midst of all, 384. Garnish'd and deck'd, 99. God, only wise 649. From opening slcies, 247, 318. Garth, faster than, 404. God sent his sicgers, 479. From other care, 344. Garth, gen'rous as, 404. God, the best maker, 341.'From our lost pursuit, 432. Gather all the smiling, 6I5. God, to remove, 222, 430. From pert to stupid, 24. Gather ye rose-buds, 557, 7I2. God, when he gave me, 238. From ploughs and harrows, 26. Gay hope is theirs, 722. God, when heav'n, 332. From pole to pole, 522. Gay mellow silks, 154. God will deign, 223, 278. From powerful causes, 404. Gay paid his courtship; 54. God's benison go with, 2II. From retentive cage, 75. Gazettes sent gratis, 397. God's universal law, 339. From sea to sea, 565. Gen'rous converse, 104. God's world is bathed, 692. From short (as tsual), 493. Gentle lady, 321. Godlike his courage, iio. From silver spouts, 184. Gentle lady, may thy grave, I59. Godlilke his unwearied, 92. From some she cast, 164. Gentle my lord, 260. Gods! take my breath, 533. From storms of rage, 435. Gentle or sharp, 56. Gold is the strength, 223. From such rude principles, cI2. Gentle Spring, 513. Gold, silver, ivory, 464. From that day forth, 327, 342. Gentle Thames, 454. Gone hath the spring, 642. From that insatiable abyss, 247. Gently I took, 2oc. Gone in the flush, 7i8. From the age, 96. Gently instructed, 283. Good-bye, proud world, 692. From the blessings, 8i. Get place and wealth, 621. Good Heav'n, whose, 349. From the body, 235. Give him heedftl note, 277. Good Homer sometimes, 49. From the bright, 378. Give laws for pantaloons, i5o. Good housewives, 438. From the clear milky, 269. Give me a bowl, 345. Good Howard, emulous, 44. From the full choir, 142. Give me a look, 238. Good humour only, 226. From the ground, i82. Give me a staff of honour, 252. Good impertinence, 486. From the loid, 450. Give me good fame, 262. Good luck befriend, 167. From the middle, 540. Give me, I cried, 353. Good manners found, 334. From the mingled, 387. Give me my home, 250. Good men's lives, 194. From the monarch's, 280. Give me, next good, 63i. Good morrow, gentle Child, 715. From the New World, 421. Give me, O Father, 425. Good'nature and good sense, 2oI. From the sad years of life, 242. Give me some music: look, 365. Good-night, good-night, 391. From the same foes, 296. Give me some music! music, 369. Good people all, 667. From the same lineage, 36. Give me that glass, 504. Good rest, 489. From the soft assaults, 388. Give me the avow'd, 208. Good, the more, 225. From the soft lyre, 369. Give me thine angle, 39. Good verse, recess, 594. From the table, 437. Give me thy hand, 55o. Goodness is beauty, 225. From Thee, great God, 222. Give me, ye gods, 28. Grace leads the right, 207. From their ftil raclks, 257. Give no more to, 186. Grace shines around, 148. From thence a fairy, 169. Give sorrow leave, 503. Grace was in all, 227. From things particular, 400o. Give thy thoughts, 476. Graced as thou art, 295, 385. From this descent, 598. Give to a gracious, 375. Graceful to sight, 228. 748 INVDEX OF FIRST LIN.ES. Gradual sinks the breeze, 200o. Hail! wedded love, 339. He bore his great, 334. Grant harvest-lord more, 33. Hair!'tis the robe, 236. He boutght her sermons, 430. Grant her, besides, 43. Half his earn'd pittance, 92. He brings them back, 349. Grant some of knowledge, 526. Half my life is full, 503. He brings, to.make us, 440. Grant the bad what, 243. Half useless doom'd, 426. He burns the leaves, 27. Grateful to acknowledge, I4I. Half wits are fleas, 650. He by my ruin, 232. Gray-headed infant, 223. Hang up philosophy, 4oi. He calls for wine, 89.' Gray-headed men, 4I8. Hanging supposes human, 565. He came too late, 592. Great, 230. Happier for me, i27. He can, I know, 256. Great discontents, 442. Happier, happier far, 668. He can spread thy name, I72. Great Fletcher never, 48, I43. Happiness courts thee, 244. He call your merit, 350. Great God of might, 223. Happiness is a stranger, 244. He cannot be a perfect, 696. Great grace that old man, 227. Happiness, object of, 244. He cannot his unmaster'd grief, 232. Great honours are, 252. Happy, and happy still, 66. He cannot long, 285. Great idol of mankind, 599. Happy he, 363. He cannot so precisely, 420. Great Milton next, 46. Happy he whose toil, 48I. He cannot thrive, 428. Great or good, 679. Happy in this, 632. He, careless now, 353. Great souls by instinct, 208, 229. Happy is Hermia, i65. He checks the bold design, 229. Great spring before, 524. Happy is she, 678. He cheer'd the dogs, 452. Great things of small, 284. Happy is your grace, 204. He chose a thousand, 226. Great wits are sure, 267, 650. Happy lines, on which, i66. He claims his privilege, 649. Great wits sometimes, ii6. Happy my eyes, 327. He clips hope's wing, 255. Greatly unfortunate, 25I. Happy next him, 250. He could on either, 42. Greatness and goodness, 698. Happy places have grown, 546. He cried, as raging, 524. Greece did at length, 399. Happy the innocent, 266. He did hold me dear, 325. Greedily they pluck'd, 2I4. Happy the man, 243, 449. He did the utmost, 283. Green as the hay-tree, 708. Happy the mortal man, I32. He died obedient, 291. Green be the turf, I59, 38i. Happy the schoolboy, 723. He died that death, 446. Grief conceal'd, like, 5oi. Happy the youth, 723. He dies, sad outcast, 230. Grief fills the room up, 97, 363. Happy they who reach, 549. He drew, 569. Grief hath changed me, 233. Happy were men, 225. He ended, and his words, 256. Grief is the unhappy, 679. Happy when I, 246. He enter'd in his house, 249. Grief seldom join'd, 712. Happy who in his, 530. He faintly now, 309. Griefs always green, i26. Happy you, 220. He falls, he fills, 406. Griefs of mine own, 233. Hard features every, 387. He fashion'd those, 5I9. Grieve not that I die, 72I. Hard hailstones lie not, 569. He feeds on f-uits, 224. Grieved with disgrace, i42. Hard toil can roughen, 23. He finds no respite, 232. Grim death, in different, I3I. Hark! hark! I hear, 36o. He fires the proud tops, 540. Grim-visaged war, 6i6. Hark, hark i the lark, 360. He first deceased, 238. Groves where immortal, 40I. Hark, hark l the waters, 485. He first that useful, 438. Groves whose rich trees, 234. Hark, how the cheerful, 79. He first the fate, 16i. Guard, while'tis thine, 1o3. Hark how the minstrels, 372. He for the feast, I83. Guilt is a timorous thing, 234. Hark! on every bough, 8i. He for the promised, 564. Guilt is the source of sorrow, 235. Hark, the bell, 5i6. He form'd the powers of heaven, 247. Guiltiness, 235. Hark! the numbers, 368, 4Io. He frets within, 565. Guns' and trumpets' clang, 6I3. Harley, the nations, 85. He from his flaming, 476. Harmony, with ev'ry grace, 63. He from the glittering, 273. Harp of the North, 577. He, full of fraudful arts, 44, 584. H. Harry, whose tuneful, 367. He furnishes her closet, 273. Harsh din, 366. He gainis all, 408. Habit with him, i22. Harsh words, that once, 38. He gave, he taught, 422. Habitual evils, 445. Has friendship such, 22I. He gave the bottle, 267. Had all his hairs been lives, 24I. Has life no sourness, 22. He generous thoughts, 598. Had but the heart, 305. Has Somnus brush'd, 484. He, glad, 553. Had he been born, 468. Has sorrow thy young, 502. He grants what they, 444. Had he lived to see, 30Io. Has thy-uncertain, 328. He, great tamer, I54. Had he thought, 62I. Hast thot appointed, 355. He grieved, he wept, 95. Had heav'n decreed, 301. Hast thou been never, 209. He had been assured, 639. Had Hyde thus sat, 388. Hastthou beheld, 255. He had been base, 282. Had I a hundred, 65o. Hast thou no friend, 554. He had charge, 256. Had I as many sons, 242? Hast thou no mark, 30i. He had his calmer, 3tI. Had I but died, I36. Hast thou not seen, 723. He had not used, 426. Had I but time, 235. Haste me to know, 452. He had so many languages, 296. Had I miscarried, 532. Haste thee, my nymph, 274, 352. He had such things, 338. Had I not been blind, 569. Haste to yonder, io8. He had that grace, 297. Had memory been lost, 347. Hasting to pay, i6i. He happier yet, I33. Had not the deep, 38i. Hasty wrath, and, 448. He hates an action, 422. Had not the Maker, iii. Hath nature given them, 5i9. He hath a daily beauty, 304. Had Orpheus sting, 365. Hath not 91d custom, 200oo. He hath a tear for pity, 93. Had the number, 38i. Have I not heard, 384. He hath resisted law, 292. Had thy great destiny, I4I. Have I not hideous, I34. He, having scarce, 6,6. Had we but lasting, I72. Have I not in a pitched, 6I7. He heard a grave, 407. Had we never loved, 307. Have I not managed, 322. He heard, lie took, 240. Had women been, 294. Have I not set at naught, 320. He hearkens after, 149. Had you not been, 242. Have the power still, iii. He hears the crackling, i98. Had you, some ages, I58. Have we not plighted, 209. He, here with us, 445. Hadst thou fill, 452. Have we soon forgot, 396. He hides, at heart, 626. Hail, bards triumphant, 423. Have you not love, 38. He his sleep, 486. Hail, divinest melancholy, 344. Have you seen, 292. He ill aspires, 428. Hail, foreign wonder, 256. Having infringed the law, 294. He, in a loathsome, 298. Hail, gentle stream, 455. He, 533, 566. He in great passion, 393. Hail, happy groves, 476. He adds the running, 454. He, in the first flower, 342. Hail, holy light, 305. He answer'd nought, s82. He intent on somewhat, 343. Hail, memory, hail, 348. He, as loving his own, 6I7. He is a worthy, 440. Hail, mildly pleasing, 499. He at Venice gave, 235. He is divinely, 343. Hail, social life, 494. He bared an ancient oak, 569. He is far gone, 320. Hail to the joyous, 36I. He bids the nimble hours, 258. He is never poor, 422. Hail to the sun, 540. He, binding nature, 2o8. He is superstitious, go,.48. Hail, wayward queen, 673. He blinds the wise, 8i. He is the freenman, 2o6. INDEX OF FIRST 2INiES. 749 He is the half part, 34I. He sleeps by day, 488. He who, supreme, 127. He keeps his temper'd, 226. He sleeps, if it be, 486. He who the sword, 276. He knew, 224. He slew 7Etion, 216. He who would hear, 545. He, knowing well, 421. He smiled as men, 493. He whose firm faith, 3io0. He knows in law, 296. He softens the hard rigour, 275. He whose mind, 597. He laughs at all, i6o. He, sole in power, ii3. He whose tale is-best, 544. He launch'd the fiery, 522. He sorrows now, 448. He, with a body, 35f. He led me up, i99. He sought by arguments, 390. He with a graceful pride, 258. He left his crook, 659. He sow'd with stars, 528. He with his soft, 499. He left nothing fitting, 545. He speaks reservedly, 529. He with his sword, 6i. He left the name, I72. He spurr'd his fiery steed, 258. He with his tepid, 538. He leads him vain, 202. He stands for fame, 36. He, with honest meditations, 343. He, like a copious, 5o0. He stands in daylight, 25I. He with wide nostrils, 260. He, like a foolish, 474. He, stretched out all, i67. He wooes both high, 320. He, like a patient angler, 39. He struggles first for breath, 95. He would have cry'd, I47. He like Amphion, 464. He suffer'd their protractive, 229. He'll use me as he does, 54. He liked those, 437. He sung, and hell, 368. He's a fool, who thinks, 678. He little dream'd, 203. He, surprised, with, 323. He's a foolish seaman, 473. He lives to build, 36. He swells with angry, 430. He's arm'd without, ioi. He longer will delay, 112. He tasted love, 659. He's noble, wise, judicious, 464. He look'd a lion, 237. He taught the gospel, 429. He's proud, fantastic, 563. He look'd and saw, A84. He that but conceives, 2I5, 477. Health to himself, 93. He look'd in years, 2i. He that commits a sin, 477. Heaps of huge words, 42I, 685. He look'd lilce nature's, 373. He that cuts off, 304. Hear, all ye angels, 37. He, looking down, 280. He that dares to die, 288. Hear himself repine, I78. He looks in heav'n, 509. He that depends upon another, 254. Hear how learn'd Greece, II7. He loved me well, 479. He that doth the ravens, 435. Hear how the birds, 75. He loved my worthless, 208, 409. Hethat has a little, 652. Hear how Timotheus', 368. He loved so fast, 313. He that has light, ioo. Hear, Lord, the song, 708. He made the stars, 527. He that hath nature, 228. Hear me, and touch, 345. He made us to his, 508. He that holds fast, o02. Hear the just law, 583. He makes a covenant, 383. He that is drunken, 269. Hear what from love, 317. He makes for England, 282. He that is of reason's, 442. Heart-rending news, i38. He many a walk, 573. He that is stricken, 82. Heartless they fought, 6ii. He mark'd the conjugal, 342. He that lacks time, 449. Heat burns his rise, i63. He Mars deposed, i5i. He that loves a rosy, 664. Heav'n as its instrument, Io9. He match'd their beauties, II5. He that once sins, 477. Heav'n bestows, 37I. He meant his corrosives, 343. Hle that resists, 226. Heav'n doth divide, 593. He might be silent, 476. He that sees a dark, 255. Heav'n doth know, 445. He mourns the dead, 363. He that shall rail, 480. Heav'n doth with us, 6oo00. He must his acts reveal, 126. He that to ancient, 35. Heaven first taught, 298. He must observe, 272. He that will not, 433. Heaven forming each, 494. He never shall find, 339. He that with injury, 287. Heav'n from all ages, 620. He next essays to walk, 95. He that's ungrateful, 266. Heav'n from:all creatures, I79, 2I8. He nobly seized thee, 614. He the proud boasters, 83. Heav'n gave him all, 227. He now, forsooth, 293. He the stubborn, 334. Heav'n waxeth old, 507. He now is come, 192. He, then, that is not, 43. Heaven gives us friends, 2I3. He now, observant, 22, 540. He therefore makes, 72. Heav'n has to all allotted, 177. He observed th' illustrious, 230. He thinks by flight, 313. Heav'n heard his song, 499. He of their wicked, 430, 448. He thought them folks, 260. Heav'n her Eridanus, 454. He only fair, i95. He, thrice happy, io9. Heaven is not always, 19. He only thought, I92. He through a little, 64. Heaven is the magazine, 427. He paid his courtship, 432. He to the town return'd, 6i. Heav'n made us agents, 207. He percheth on some, 79. He told us that, 74. Heav'.n open'd wide, 247. He, perfect dancer, 221. He took a low'ring, 323. Heaven seems improved, 540. He, perhaps, 345. He took my arms, 609. Heav'n I set ope, 424. He pleaded still, 296. He took my father, 234, 478. Heaven, sure, has kept, II3. He plies her hard, 399. He trusted to have, 443. Heav'n that hath, 42I. He plunged for sense, 57. He turned his notes, 366. H-eav'n, that knows, 552. He prayetl best, 425. He turns with anxious heart, 6o. Heaven and earth, 247. He preach'd the joys, 429. He upon whose, 459. Heav'n and earth's, ii2. He proudly pricketh, 259. He waits, with hellish rancour, 266. Heaven-born charity, 92. He raised a sigh, 406. He walks, 235. Heav'nly powers, 444. He ranged his tropes, 437. He wand'ring long, 564. Heaven's blest beam, 540. He raved with all, I40. He warn'd in dreams, I47. Heav'n's cherubim, horsed, 552. He returns, his travel, 563. He was, 252. Heaven's in my mouth, 247. He ripens spices, 216. He was a scholar, 297. Heaven's king, who, 444. He roar'd, 237. He was exhaled, 227. Heaven's unchanged decrees, 87. He roll'd his eyes, 297. He was in logic, 306. Heaven's youngest teamed, 527. He rounds the air, 72. He was not born to shame, 253. Heedless of verse, 650. He safe return'd, 221. He was not spiteful, 46i. Hell hath no limits, 247. He said, 545. He was stirr'd, 394. Hence aching bosoms, 505. He said, Dear daughter, 4I. Hle was stout of courage, 2io. Hence came its name, i6o. He said mine eyes were black, 240. He was too warm, 56, 528. Hence foxes earth'd, 38o. He said: the careful, 426. He wears the rose, 720. Hence Gildon rails, i45. He saw his friends, 474. He went to the windows, 637. Hence lastly springs, 568. He saw in order, 6io. He, when his country, Io9. Hence love himself, 308. He saw the Trojan, 522. He which hath, 62. Hence men and beasts, 72. He'scapes the best, 402. He whined, and roar'd, 6i6. Hence our desires, 481. He seem'd, I70. He who ascends, I58, 229. Hence springs that, 265. He seized the helm, 469. He who fairest, 63. Hence sprouting plants, 402. He seized the shining, 224. He who first, 469. Hence the fool's paradise, 248. He set before him, 284. He who hurts, 480. Hence'tis a wit, 649.. He shall conceal it, 185. He who is perfect, 585. Hence vegetives receive, 594. He shall ever love, 312. He who late, 280. Hence, when anatomists, 268. He shall spend, 63. He who, malignant, 209. Hence, wretched'nation, 418. He shook the sacred honours, 237. He who now to sense, 529. Henceforth, how much, 347. He sigh'd; and could not, 202. He who obeys, 646. Henceforth I fly not, 130, 302. He sighs with most, 338. He who, superior, 533. Henceforth I'11 bear, 19. 750 INVDEX OF FIRST LINES. Henceforth let poets, 412. Her speech is graced,:104. Hereafter, in a better, 247. Henceforward human eyes, 622. Her streaming eyes, 503. Hereditary bondsmen, 205. Henry and Edward, 173. Her suif'ring ended, 532. Hermes o'er his head, 484. Henry, in knots, 329, 576. Her suit is now, 279. Heroes and heroines of old, 248. Henry, the forest-born, 256. Her sunny locks, 240. Heroes' and heroines' shout, 368. Her air, her manners, 334. Her tears her only, 549. Heroes in animated marble, 248, 464 Her cap, far whiter, x53. Her tresses, loose behind, 238. Heroes of old, by rapine, 248. Her ceaseless flight, 520. Her very judges, 276. Heroes who overcome, 248. Her chariot is, i68. Her virtue, and, 671. Heroic virtue did, 290, 597. Her charms in breathing, 388. Her voice was ever soft, 604, 675. Hibernia's harp, 352. Her cheeks grow, I9i. Her waving groves, 234. Hide me, ye forests, i98. Her cheeks like apples, 69. Her well-turn'd neck he view'd, 237. Hie thee hither, 94. Her cheeks, on which, 55i. Her whom he wishes, 399. High at his head, 205. Her cheeks their freshness, 65. Her wit was more, 667. High flights she had. 42. Her colour changed, 437. Her yellow golden hair, 24t. High, high above, 57I. Her conversation, 204. Her yellow locks, 242. High minds of native, 447. Her deck is crowded, 474. Heralds stickle, who got, 35. High o'er the gate, 6io. Her deep blue eyes, i63. Here aged trees, 575. High stations tuimlts, i58, 232. Her dress, her shape, 64. Here all their care, 476. High though her wit, 666. Her eldest sister, 476. Here arm'd with silver bows, 286. Higher, higher will, 726. Her every tone, 6D3. Here, attired beyond, 5I. Higher than that wall, 225. Her eye (I'm very fond, i63. Here, awful Newton, 40I. Hills, dales, and forests, i98. Her eye's dark charm, i63. Here be all the pleasures, 726. Him all repute, I50o. Her eyes, her hair, 63. Here be tears, 226. Him also for my, 462. Her eyes, her lips, 63, 387. Here blind old Homer, 526. Him Dido now, 8i. Her eyes in heaven, x63. Here bring your wounded, 502. Him for the studious, 527. Her eyes the glow-worm, i64. Here cease more questions, 489. Him God vouchsafed, I48. Her face right wondrous, 69. Here Ceres' gifts, 245. Him long of old, 37. Her face sofair, 69. Here circling colonnades, 463. Him portion'd maids, 93. Her face was veil'd, 67I. Here clearer stars, 5i8. 1-im their deliverer, 424. Her face with thousand, 674. Here comes a man, 242. Him while fiesh, 224. Her failing, while her faith, i69. Here condemn'd, x6i. Him you will find, 295. Her fallow leas, 3I. Here ev'ry day, 459. Himself to be, 278. Her fate is whisper'd, 576. Here feel we but, 640. His absence firom, 27. Her father counts, 342. Here foam'd rebellious, 452. His air, his voice, 544. Her feet beneath, 253. Here have we war for war, 617. His annual wound, 4Io. Her fields he clothed, 205. Here, here it lies, ioo. His awful presence, i64, 280. Her flood of tears, 32. Here hills and vales, 286. His batter'd rigging, 469. Her forests huge, 200. Here hope began to dawn, 127, 255. His beauty these, I7V. Her gentle wit, 652. Here I clip, 326. His best companions, 452. Her gloomy presence, 498. Here I peruse, 29. His birth, perhaps, 203. Her glossy hair, 236. Here, in full light, 286. His blasts obey)r,'524. Her gods and godlike, 293. Here in her hairs, 240. His blazing eyes, i66. Her golden locks for haste, 242. Here in this world, 283. His body shall be, 226. Her golden locks she roundly, 241. Here is her picture, 389. His body thus adorn'd, 526. Her grace of motion, 66, 672. Here kindly warmth, 594. His brutal manners, 334. Her graceful innocence, 266. Here letthose reign, 427. His calm and blameless, 397. Her gray-hair'd synods, 50. Here let those who boast, 273. His cares are eased, 95. Her grizzled locks, 242. Here lies the dusky torch, 35. His chamber all, 40. Her guiltless glory, 446. Here lies the learned, i6o. His cheerfuid tenants, 32. Her hair, 240. Here may I always, io8. His classical reading, 527. Her hair down-gushing, 236. Here may we reign, 34. His conscience cheer'd him, 302. Her hair is auburn, 242. Here nature spreads, io6. His converse is a systeci fit, 2o4. Her hair was roll'd, 236. Here one poor word, i 8, 684. His corn and cattle, 26. Her head was bare, 237. Here only merit, 350. His countenance did imprint, 223. Her head with ringlets, 237. Here only weak, 66. His court, with nettles, 2o7. Her heart did melt, 552. Here, over-match'd, 6trx. His dauntless heart, 547. Her heart was that, 446. Here Pallas urges on, 6t. His death (whose spirit, 495. Her heav'nly form, 64, Here patriots live, 395. His dream returns, 247. Her humble gestures, 257. Here pullies make, 572. His eye begets, 652. Her intercession, 437. Here rests his head, 259. His eyebrow dark, i65. Her ivory forehead, 327. Here retired, the, 384. His eyes he open'd, 30. Her joy in gilded, 673. Here' rills of oily,:56. His fair large front, 66. Her joyous presence, 327. Here rise the branching, 568. His faith perhaps, 47, i69, Her leafy arms, 72. Here rising bold, 396. His fame, like gold, 274. Her life she might, 240. Here sailing ships, 472. His fear was greater, i8o. Her lips blush deeper, 83. Here sauntering'prentices, 144. His fellow, who, 485. Her looks from that, 326. Here shame dissuades, t8o. His flaggy wings, 472. Her lot is on you, 668. Here she stands, 323. His flocks are folded, 468. Her lovely looks, i65. Here some benighted, 349. His form had yet not lost, 37. Her lovers' names, 3o10. Here some digression, 409. His friend smiled, 247. Her madness hath, 267. Here still is the smile, 327. His friends beheld, 27. Her merry fit, 274. Here stood Ill-nature, 252. His friendship lwas, 222. Her modest looks, 292. Here swells the shelf, 52. His friendships still, 222. Her mother hath intended, I53. Here tears shall flow, 396. His gardens next, 2I9. Her only end, 508. Here tell me, 502. His gathering mantle, 637. Her only fault, 34q. Here the loud Arno's, 453. His genius was below, 70. Her pencil drew, 387. Here the marshy grounds, 29. His givings out, 239. Her petticoat, transform'd, 253. Here the muse so oft, 478. His golden locks, 239. Her physician tells, 236. Here the proud lover, 329. His grace looks cheerfully, 94. Her poverty was glad, o02. Here toils and death, 484. His gracious edict, 72. Her private orchards, 2t5. Here too dwells simple, to9. Sin grave rebeke, 66. Her purple habit, I50. Here wanton Naples, 412. His grizly locks, 242. Her ruby lips, 479. Here was that charter, 406. His growth is but a wild, 570. Her sallow cheeks, 476. Here, where the labourer's, 478. His hair is of a gpod colour, 240. Her shining hair, 237. Here-while I roved, 726. His hair is sticking, 240. Her sighs will make, 550. Here's an acre, 229. His hair transforms to down, 235. Her soul abhorring, 59. Here's eight that must, 340. His hand unstain'd, 428. Her soul is so enfetter'd, 326 Here's our chiefguest, 285. His holy rites, 284. INzVDEX OF FIRST LINES. 751 His horrid image, 182. Honour's the noblest, 272. How fierce in fight, no9. His hospitable gate, 260. Honours best thrive, 252. How fortune plies, 203. His house was known, 92. Hope arms their courage, o109. How furious and impatient, 322. His jolly brother, r82. Hope constancy inwind, II4. How gayly is at first, 724. His knowledge in, 56. Hope elevates, 256. How gloriously her gallant, 468. His learning, though, 297. Hope for a season, 206. How guilt, once harhourd, 235. HIis leisure told him, 302. Hope! fortune's cheating lottery, 254. How happy could I be, 667. His life I gave him, 97. Hope humbly, then, 13I. How happy in his low degree, io6. His life was gentle, 333. Hope is a lover's staff, 257. How happy is that balm, 48I. His limbs must ache, 378. Hope leads from goal to goal, 256. How happy is the blameless, 673. His locks behind, 238. Hope, like the glimm'ring, 255. How hard soe'er, 546. His loving mother, 362. Hope never comes, 256. How has kind heav'n, 246. His muse had starved, 244. Hope not to find, 213. How have I fear'd, I78. His name a great example, 592. Hope! of all ills, 254. How have I stain'd, 97..His namestruck fear, i8i. Hope, of all passions, 257. How have we wander'd, 564. His name was heav'nly, 102. Hope springs eternal, 256. How he apes his sire, 528. His nature is too noble, i88. Hope, the glad ray, 257. How he sleepeth, 482. His neclk, his hands, 64. Hope, too long, 173. How he solicits, 405. His neck obliquely, 487. Hope waits upon, 536. How heat and thunder, 522. His offence is so, 293. Hope with a goodly prospect, 255. How heavy do I journey, 565. His overthrow heap'd, i9. Hope! whose weak being, 255 How heroes rise, 248. His own impartial,.oo. Hope's precious pearl, 256. How his eyes languish, 40. His palms, though under, 569: Hopeful to regain, 316. How I firmly am, 34I. His passions and his, 39I. Hopes, what are they, 257. How I have loved, 312. His pencil was striking, 387. Horace did ne'er, 54. How ill white hairs, 24. His pensive cheelk, 41. Horace still charms, 5I. How in small flights, 76. His pictured morals, 387. Horace will our, 53, 12n. How innocent I was, 293. His pills as thick, 403. Horace, with shy, 48. How instinct varies, 268. His pond'rous shield, 354. Horace's wit and, 48. How is it that some, 649. His pow'r can heal me, i65. Horatio says, I76. How justly then, 43I. His praise of foes, 423. Hot braves, like thee, 86. How like a winter, 64I. His praise, ye winds, 424. Hot, envious, proud, 59. How little do they see, 277. His presence soon blows up, 6ii. Hourly we see, 225. How loved, how honour'd, 159,38n. His promise Palamon, 169, 584. Household gifts, 229. How many a mighty ship, 529. His pruning-hoolc, 215. How all the other, I4I. How many a rustic, 54. His royal bird, 77. How all things listen, 76. How many have, 66. His sceptre shows, 350. How awful is that hour, Ion, 595. How many nations, 453. His severe judgment, 277. How beauteous art thou, 537. How many spacious, 453. His sleep, 486. How beautiful a world, 692. How mean thile order, 374. His sober lips, 452. How beautiful is all, 658. How much I suffer'd, 312. His son builds on, 42. How beautifiuli is the rain, 438. How much more, 613. His sons, who seek, 590o. How beautiful the water, 620. How much the wife, 630. His sorrows bore, I27. How beautiful this night, 380. How much they err, 450. His soul, like bark, 392. How bees forever, 268. How much unlike, 468. His subjects call'd, 6io. How hless'd the youth, 707. How must a spirit, 5II. His sweetness won, 230. How blessings brighten, 8i. How nature paints, 373. His sword ne'er fell, 594. How blest has my time, 627. How now, my lord, i176, 345. His thoughts were low, 595. How blest is he, 22. How oft from pomp, 3i9. His tongue, 42, 257. How bloodily the sun, 540. How oft when men, 236. His unblest feet, 577. How brief the life, 304. How often from the, 37. His valour, shown, 592. How bright to him, 712. How often have I, 455. His various modes, 297. How came her eyes, 552. How often in the, 548. His virtues have undone, 565. How calm, how solenn, 638. How pleasant came, 455. His warlilce miid, i8o, 6io. How can hearts, 24I. How poor a thing, 431, 675. His warlike shield, 43. How can heav'nly, 328. How poor are they, 394. His warm but simple home, 628. How call I, 257. How poor, how rich, 333. His white-maned steed, 258. How can I fear, 383. How pregnant, sometimes, 267. His wit invites you, 649. How can I live, 326. How pure the joy, 84. His woes broke out, 547. How can I see the brave, 6o6. How quickly nature, 224. His wonders and, 425. How can judicious, 537. How rarely does, 321. His words seem'd, 682. How can the muse, 2I9. How rash, how inconsiderate, 452. His workcs become, 57. How can tyrants, 420. How readily we wislh'd, 393. His works were hawkc'd, 58. How charming is, 400. How red the roses, 69. His years but young, 277, 720. How cheerfully thie, 46I. How rev'rend is the face, 4I. His youth'and age, 2I. How comes it now, 340. How rich in humble, io6. His youth with wants, 443. How commentators each, 120. How sad a sight, 245. Hither in summer, 534. How could communities, 99. How safe is treason, 565. Hither the seas, 468. How could it come, 677. How senseless then, 477. Hitherto sh6 kept, 310o. How could nature, 517. How severely with, 2i7. Ho! pretty page, 678. How could this noble, III. How shall I then, 174. Hold you ever, 399. How dear to this heart, 250. How shall our author, 562. Holy Ghost, with light Divine, 585. How deep you were, 460. How shall our thought, 646. Home is the resort, 250. How did ihe return, 382. How sharper than, 97. Home is the sacred refuge, 249. How did they fume, 50. How shocking must, I23. Homer, grevt bard, 53. How dire a tempest, 6io. How short is life, 301. Homer shall last, 49. How does Cartesitus, 46. How should the muse, 429. Homer, whose name, 48. How does my love, 467. How silvery sweet, 604. Honest company, 340. How does the lustre, 171. How sleep the brave, n58, 395. Honest designs, 426. How does your pride, 98. How smart a lash, iot. Honour and policy, 398. How dull and how, 33T. How soft the music, 364. Honour and shame, 252, 699. How eagerly he flew, I79. How soon would ease, 386. Honour burns in me, 251. How easy'tis, when, 178, 582. How still the morning, 459. Honour is like, 25i. How else, said he, 336. How strangely active, 397. Honour should be concern'd, 253. How empty learning, 297. How sudden do our prospects, 304. Honour l thou spongy, 253. How enviously the ladies, 85. How sweet it were, 492. Honour thy parents, 390. How every foot, 685. How sweet the moonlight, 355, 370. Honoiu: unchanged, 252. How exquisite is pleasure, 275. How sweet the products, 398. Honour's a lease, 25., How fadina are the joys, 37. How sweet the summer, 534. Honour's a. sacred tie, 251. How few, like thee, 93. How sweetly did they, 378. '752 INDEX OF FIRST' LINES. How swiftly pass, 560. I chose the safer, 383. I have discern'd, 431. How the drudging goblin, 067. I come, I come, 512. I have done penance, 322. How to build ships, 472. I come to calm, 441. I have dream'd, 148, I49,. How to the banks, 403. I come, ye ghosts, 193. I have endured, 233. How tragedy and comedy, I44. I could enjoy, I23. I have fed, 264. How turnips hide, 29. I could have stemrn'd, 628. I have had playmates, 7t4. How use doth breed, 235, 498. I could not love, 308. I have heard thee say, 035. How vain all outward, 346. I crave fit disposition, 633. I have known a word, 684. How vain are all, 36, 673. I crown thee king, 636. I have known one, 684. How vain that second life, I73. I crush'd the dewy leaves, 575. I have learn'd, 139. How Van wants grace, 227. I dare do all, 333. I have lived long enough, 24. How vapours, turn'd, 438. I dare not trust, i64. Ihave long dream'd, 049. How various his employments, 263. I did but prompt, 1i6, 299. I have mark'd, 68, 83. How void of reason, 440. I did not think, 549. I have no other, 675. How wayward is this, 320. 1 did pluck, 444. I have no skill, 670. How weary, stale, 345. I died, ere I could lend, 94. I have no taste, 423. How Will-a-wisp, 376.. I do but sing, 80. I have no will, 305. How will my mother, I35. I do confess, 328. I have not loved, 688. How wonderful is Death, 490o. I do contest, 35. I have not quitted, 243. How would you be, i23. 1 do fear the world, 696. I have not that alacrity, 94. Howe'er it be, 43, 225. I do feel, 233. I have not wept, 362. Howe'er,'tis well, 408. I do know of, 477. I have observed of late, 88. Howe'er love's native, 45. I do not dotbt but, 609. I have seen, 276. Howe'er unjust, 271. I do not love, 294. I have seen tempests, 523. However I with thee, 130. I do not seek, 320. I have sense, 465. However, keep the, 425. I do not shame, 445. I have set my life, 304. However'twas civil, 38. I do not think, 87, 333. I have slept fifteen years, 488. However we may praise, 676. I do oppose, 394. I have this day received, 566. Huge flocks of rising rooks, 73. I do present you, I56. I have thrust myself, 34I. Huge trunks of trees, 570. I do remember, 405. I have tow'rd heaven, 428. Humility is eldest-born, 26I. I doom, to fix, 474. I have ventured, 22I. Humility, that low, 26i. I doubt there's deep resentment, 252. I heard, 6ir. Hunt halfa day, 049. I dream'd there would, 514. I heard a mermaid, 500. Husband and wife, 628. I drew from her a prayer, 564. I here do give thee, 322. Husband, husband, 627. I drew this gallant, 6o6. I here forget, 250. Husbands are like, 262. I droop, with struggling, 503. 1, his despiteful Juno, 699. Hush! speak low, 680. I drop my idle pen, 72i. I hold an old, 185. Huswives are teached, 32. I dwell amid, 506. I hold him but, 322. Hyacinthine locks, 238. I else must change, 208. 1 home returning, 594. Hyperboles, so daring, 529. I entreat you then, 646. I, in a desperate, 475. Hypocrisy, the only evil, 263. 1 envy none their, 66i. I, in fact, 2to. I ere long that precipice, I33. I, in mine own, 036. I every day, 445. I in these flowery meads, 40. I. I fear no foe, 548. I join with thee, I84. I fear to try, 31i. I know a discontented, 142. I all the livelong day, 343. I feel my genial, 345. I know a forest vast, 573. I always enter this, 573. I feel my sinews, 18o. I know each lane, 099. I am a gentleman, a22. I feel my virtue, 392. I know he's coming, 96. I am a soldier, 204. I feel no care of coin, 620. I know I love in vain, 326. I am a subject, 293. feel the rush, 722. I know myselfnow, ioi. I am a tainted wether, 035. I felt my curdled blood, I8o. I know not, I aski not, 306. I am arrived, 220. I fill this cup, 672. I knownot why, 325. I am as constant, 501,79. I find my zenith, 46. I know the gentleman, 699. I am ashamed that, 632, 676. find, quoth Mat, i9g. Iknow there are, ti6. I am dull as, 502. 1 find she loves, 34. I know thou art religious, ioi. I am enjoin'd, 34I. I find your love, 303. I know thy gen'rous temper, 251 I am fearful, 18i. I firmly vow, 325. I know transplanted, 699. I am half-seas over, I27. I first adventure, 461. I laugh to think, 18o. I am not covetous, 253. I follow thee, safe guide, 94. I left no calling, 413. I am not form'd, x89. I, fond of my well-chosen, 84. I little thought, 717. I am not mad, 267. 1 fought and fell, 61. I loathe that low vice, 249. I am not prorne', 55o. I found,593. I long my careless, og9. Iam now in fortune's, 202. Ifreely told you, 221. I look around, and feel, 602. I am of ladies, 323. I from oppressors, 423. I look'd upon her, 321. I am shepherd, 468. I go with love, 203. I lose my patience, t16. I am sorry, I74. I grieve myself 349. I lose no honour, 252. I'm stupefied, 232. I had a glimpse ofhim, 26i. I love him, friend, 390. I am the very man, 9I. I had forgot, 02. love my husband, 338. I am the very pink, iio. I had hope, I30. I love the soul, 723. I am weaker than, 675. 1 had not so much, 362. I love thee when, 580. I am weary, 355. I hasten Og and Doeg, 594. I love thilk lass, 328. I at first with two, 243. I hasten to our own, 47. I love to list, 523. I beg the grace, 38. I hate that drum's, 615. I love to look, 724. I beg your greatness, 288. I hate these potent, 608. I love to rise ere gleams, 640. I beheld this fickle, 696. I hate to see a brave, 312. I love to wander, 536. I beseech you, 292. I hate when vice, 595. I loved her first, 317. I bought an unction, 343. I have a tree which, 577. I loved thee, as, 464. I but revenge, 450. I have a venturous, I69. I loved thee once, 66i. I by conversing, 104.- I have acquainted you, 322. I marvel not, O sun, 54I. I can counterfeit, i45. I have almost forgot, 8i. I may speak it, 98. I cannot but, 348. I have been, I74. mean she should, 669. I cannot love him, 324. I have been a truant, 292. I meant to make, 669. I cannot sleep, 486. I have been base, 265. I meant to meet, I78. I can't but say it is, 562. I have been forsworn, 170. 1 might relate, 37. I care not, Fortune, 6oo00. I have been troubled, 488. 1 mind me in the days, 496. I charge thee, 585. I have been wild, 624. 1 miss thee, 362. I charge thee loiter, T8. I have bought, 420. 1 mourn that this world, 692. I charge you by the law, 276, 292. I have breathed, 102. I move, I see, 222. I chid the folly, 95. I have disabled, 330. 1 must confess, 34I. INDEX OF FIRST IiNES. 753 I must disdain, 56. I speak too long, 545. I would not take, 203. I must go seek, 194. I stand, 522. I would recall, 146. Imust hav liet,29 tn, 522. -I must have liberty, 299. I stand in need, I7i. I would she were, 247. I must put off, 15I. I start as from, 47 I writ, 650. I must yield, I35. I still shall wait, 2i8. I, writing thus, 704. I, my own judge, ioo. I stood uponthe hills, 538. I yet am tender, 126. I, near you stile, 203. I strangely long to know, 9i. I yielded, and, 553. I need not raise, 142. I strove not to resist, 315. I'd rather crack, I42. Ineed not say, 315. I take the wood, 487. I'd say we suffer, 722. I need.thy presence, 552. I take this garland, 64. I'd show you, I27. I' never had the confidence, 92. I talk of dreams, 143. I'll animate, 494. I never in my life, 353. I teach the woods, 20zoo. I'll be at charges, I53. I never knew a warryer, 608. I tell thee life, i8i. I'll be this abject, 325. I neverrested, 67. I tell you, hopeless grief, 240. I'll cull the farthest, io8. I never spoke, 390. I think if thou, 509. I'll cut up, as plows, 265. I never with important air, 545. I think it is, 5ii. I'll deliver all, 384. I never yet saw man, 220. I thus conclude, I47. I'11 disrobe me, I53. I never yet the tragic, I45, 53I. I thus neglecting, 527. I'll fly, 318. I nio more complain, 558 I thank you for, 2it. I'll follow thee, 216. I no sooner in my heart, 326. I that am, 374. I'll gaze forever, 162. I, not by wants, 2oi. I thought, i27. I'll hoard up, 547. I now believed, 255. I thought I saw, 273. I'll make him yield, 85. I oft have seen, 30. I thought of Chatterton, 55. I'll ne'er distrust, I70. I oft, in bitterness of soul, 232. I thought of the days, 408, 7M7. I'11 not be made, 448. I often did beguile, I42. I thought the life, 678. I'll not betray, 416. I on a fountain,.89. I thought the remnant, 24. I'll please the maids, I5o. I, on the other side, T39. Ithought your love, 436. I'll prove the prettier, 87. I only deal by rules, 45. I thought thy bride-bed, 227. I'll recant, when France, 652. I own, he hates, 600o. I to do this, 4i7. I'll say yon gray, 360. I pace the long-deserted, 713. Itook it for a fairy, i67. I'll search where, 600. I part with thee, 390. I turn'd and tried, 483. I'll set thee in, 273. - I pass their form, 64, I50. I, utinder fair pretence, 263. I'11 strike my fortune, 202. I past, methought, 379. I understand in the, 670. I'll strive with troubled, 489. I pleased, and with, 326.' I understood not, 228. I'll teach mine eyes, 328. I pray thee, leave me, 428. I view, by no, 378. I'll to the king, 252. I pray thee let me, 623. 3 view with anger, 582. I'll undertake to bring him, 293. I pray thee, peace, 40o. I view'd th' effects, 564. I'll versify in spite, 412. I preach'd as never, 429. I wait not at the lawyer's gates, 294. I'm glad at soul, 390. I pull in resolution, 585. I wake, emerging, 66i. I'm glad you thus, 40o. I question thy bold, 487. I waked, and, looking, 72. I'm never merry, 370. I ran it through, 544. I, waking, view'd, 348. I'm quite ashamed, 184. I rave, 72. I wander forth this, 634. I'm waning in his, 323. I reason'd much, 320. I want rwho does not want?), 625. I'm weary of the flesh, I27. I rememober, I remember, 572, 722. I wanted nothing, 483. I've been to you, 633. I remember, when, 437. I was never so, 685. I've charged thee, 322. I rule the Paphian, I54. I was not born for courts, 262, 427. I've found a joy, 656. I said,'rhe years, 363. I was promised, 442. I've heard of hearts, 229. I sat men down, 192, 498. I was the first who set, 182. I've heard that guilty, I45. I sat upon, 370. I was too hasty, 439. I've often wish'd, iog. I saw a pleasant grove, 74. 1 watch'd the early, 357. I've peruised her well, 68. I saw from the beach, 620. I weep, but not, 624. I've seen the mournings, 356I saw him on his throne, 635. 1 wept that all, 558. I've watch'd and travell'd, 565. [ saw Jove's bird, 77. I who at some times, 89. Ifa man would be, 37. I saw Petreus' arms, 569. 1 whto before with, 467. If a phrenzy do, 267. [ saw th' angelic, 37. I will, alas,.230. If a wild uncertainty, 1421. I saw the expectant; 71. I will attend my husband, 262, 296. If a wood of leaves, 27. I saw the young bride, 62.. I will be deaf, 550. If all the world, 330. I saw, wherever light, 673. I will be master, 632. If all the world and, 639. I scarcely understand, 554. I will clear their, 448. If all the world were, 285. I see her taste, 403. I will conduct thee, 563. If any ask me, 353. I see how thy eye, 273. I will converse with, 1oi. If any sils afflict, 632. I see men's judgments, 277. I will despair, i34. If any strength we have, 223. I see the gods, t8i. I will drain him, 489. If any such be here, 389. I see the right, 700. I will go root, 220. If Arcite thus, 532. I see thee, lord, 82. I will go wash, 83. If aught against my life, 29i. I see them on their, 495. I will instruct my sorrows, 233. If aught in my ability, 532. I see there is no man, 242. I will keep her, I4I. If aught obstruct, 399. I'see thou hast, 394. I will lift the, 266. If but a mile, 45. I see your brows, 504. I will not let him, 343. If but one virtue, 279. I seek not to wax great, 2o3. Iwill not let you, 674. If by pray'r, 426. I send it through, 304. I will not tarry, 293. If by traduction, 351. I shall be nanmed, 671. I will place within, ioo. If casual concourse, 9I, 386. I shall be your, I99. I will with patience, 394. If chance a mouse, 678. I shall fall, 9I, 353. I wish peace, 6ii. If chance the radiant, 74. I shall find time, 446. I wish thy lot, 658. If Cupid throws, 530. I shall see, 97. I wish to die, I25. If death do quench, I24. I shall sing ofbattles, 6o8. I with two fair gifts, i6i. If dusky spots are, 538. I shall survey, 125. I wonder much what, 309. If earth, industrious, 358. I should not see, 475. I would applaud, 4I. If e'er ambition, 230. I shut my eyes, 584. I would bring balm, 209. If e'er one vision, i68. I sift the snow, 578. I would cry now, 547. If envious eyes, i58. I since have labour'd, 609.. I would give worlds, I88. If ere night the gath'ring, 479, 521. I sing of heroes, 248. I would have, 157. If ever, 325. I sit where the leaves, 567. I would have ask'd, 3Io. If ever any malice, 2o0. I so livly acted, 624. 1 would have thee, 77. If ever more, 390. I solitary court, 498. I would he had, 397. If ever you have, 406. I sought at noon, 572. I would I were thy bird, 322. If ev'ry just man, 423. I sought my bed, 485. I would not be the, 59I. If ev'ry sweet, 63. I sought no homage, 57. I would not enter, I20. If faith itself, 651. 48 754.INDEx OfF F~IRST I NES. If faith with reason, 169. If that the heavens, 333. Immortality o'ersweeps, 265. If fate be not, 177. If that thy fame, I72. Immured and buried, 486. If fate forbears us, 533. If that your moody, 452. Impartial justice, 279. If fiery red his, 538. If the boy have not, 676. Imperial Caesar, 64I. If fortune has, 422. If the heart of' a, 667. Important truths, 584. If fortune take not, 203. If the heavenly folk, 294. Impossibilities! oh, no, 308. If from society, I23. If the night, 378. Imprison'd fires, 155. If glory was a bait, 221. If the past, 447. Improperly we measure, 301i. If, gracious God, 704. If the world's age, 666. Impute your danger, 86. If happiness be, 45I. If the worst of all, I25. In a commonwealth, 226. If he chance to find, 45. If then a man, 288. In a melancholy study, 527. If he that is in battle, 6i. If then all souls, 265. In a poem elegantly writ, 1i9. If hearers are amazed, 677. If then his providence, 434. In a rebellion, 443. If her chill heart, 308. If then the soul, 508. In a sad look, 310. If her nature be so, 677. If there's a power, 595. In a sadly pleasing, 368. If her sire approves, 339. If there's delight, 3o8. In age to wish for youth, 708. If here not clear'd, 444. If they are all, 418. In all my wand'rings, 249. If his character, i44. If this commerce, 125. In all that rowme, 62I. If I break time, 586. If thou art rich, 453. In all the changes, 584. If I by chance, 56, I71. If thou could'st, doctor, 405. In all the liveries, 534. If I can do it, 90, I42. If thou covet death, 130. In all thy humours, 352, 648. If I could find, 566. If thou didst put, 432. In an organ, 366. If I disclose, 306. If thou dost ill, 477, 597. In ancient times, 32. If I foreknew, 197. If thou dost slander, 447. In argument, 42. If I had thought, 66o. If thou dost still retain, 235. In argument with men, 42. If I lose mine honour, 253. If thou engrossest, 233. In arts and science, 174. If I may trust, 149, 489. If thou hast lost, 685. In awful pomp, 441. If I read aught, 46. If thou hast not, 323. In bed he slept not, 633. If I shall be condemn'd, 293. If thou ken'st, 525. In bond of virtuous, 338. If I were now to die, 244. If thou remember'st, 321. In books a prodigal, 527. If I were thou, 642. If thou wert by my side, 630. In Britain's lovely isle, 70. If I'm traduced, 480, 60n. If thou wilt lend, 21i. In care they live, 229. If in black, 24i. If thou wilt think, 344. In change of government, 226. If in the breast, 368. If thou would'st, 480. In change of torment, 314. If in the dreadful, 349. If three ladies, 144. In cloths, cheap, i51. If in the melancholy, I32, 210. If through mists, 538. In combating, but two, 126. If it be honour, 253. If to be sad, 53. In comely rank, 350. If it be so, yet bragless, 83. If to her share, 673. In common worldly things, 266. If't be summer, 375. If truth be with thy, 584. In cottages and lowly, 446. If it be weigh'd, 477. Ifvirtue's self were lost, 6oi. In council she, 462. If it were so, 312. If voluble and sharp, o104. In days of old, 167. If judgmlnt could, 276. lf we for happiness, 242. In days of poverty, 422. If justice will take, 278. If we from wealth, 187. In days of yore, 112. If life be heavy, 505. If we had naught, 465. In death he cried, 144. If life sunk through, 301. If we look, 277. In deep of night, 487. If like a hundred years, 301. If we see right, 264. In deference to, 597If little faults, 276, 292. If we shun, 6xi. In earlier days, 705. If little labour, 284. If what I gain, 171. In Eastern lands, 192. If love, alas! 319. If when she appears, 328. In easy dialogues, 48. If love be compeld, 20o7. If, when thou dost recall, 573. In emerald tufts, 273. If MAvius scribble, 52. If, while this wearied, 345. In English lays, 50. If metal, part seem'd, 273. If wit so much, 117, 65I. In every breast, 392. If men forswear, 288. If women could be, 672. In ev'ry government, 226. If mirth should fail, 6o9. If women I will, 662. In every work regard, 116. If Molly happens, 242. If you are wise, 271. In fact, 670. If money go before, 353. If you bethink, 428, 448. In fact, there's nothing, 462. If much converse, 104. If you deny it, 292. In faith and hope, 93. If music be, 369. If you deny me, 292. In fashions wayward, 176. If my offence, 322. If you did know, 272. In fear of this, 515. If nature thunder'd, 368. If you do sorrow, 325. In fighting fields, 614. If not to some, 528. If you have kindness, 217. In flow'd at once, 152. If nothing can, 307. If you have lived, 228. In fortune's empire, 217. If on my wounded, 389. If you have not enjoy'd, 709. In framing artists, 44. If on Swithin's feast, 29. If you knew to whom, 86. In genial spring, 39. If on your head, 38. If you oblige me, 433. In gentle dreams, 147. If one by one, 676. If you shall cleave, 253. In gentle love, 271. If one must be, 453. If you shall marry, 340. In glitt'ring scenes, 336. If one short volume, 85. If your care, 29. In goodly garments, I53. If our hard fortune, 45I. If your own, 441. In groves we live, 234. If our lives' motions, 283. If you're idle, 553. In heav'n the trees, 574. If parts allure thee, 50, 645. Ignorance is the curse, 264. In her cheeks, 69. If, said he, 178. Ignorant of happiness, 243. In her days, 398. If satire charms, 461. Ill bears the sex, 337. In her first passion, 663. If seriously I may, 676. Ill fares the land, 29. In her forehead's fair, 319. If she be so abandon'd, 504. Ill-govern'd passions, 393. In her hand she held, 214. If she can make, 311. Ill-grounded passions, 329. In her was youth, 669. If she do frown, 324. Ill-natured censors, p9. In her youth, 7I9If she perceived, 1o5. Ill-weaved ambition, 35. In himself was all, 281. If she repent, 208. Illimitable ocean, 383. In his duty prompt, 726. If she the body's, 5o6. Illustrious acts, 231. In his east the glorious, 539. If Sleep and Death be, 491. Illustrious robes, t5o. In his own church, 428. If snowe do continue, 32. Illustrious virtues, 291. In his own grace, 227, 465. If solid happiness we prize 249. Imagination, 264. In human hearts, 56i. If solitude succeed, 496. Imbrown'd with native, 385. In human works, 223. If some pride, 43I. Immortal glories, 40. In idle wishes fools, 643. If still thou dost retain, 262. Immortal pow'rs, ioo. In jingling rhymes, 413. If that I did not, 400. Immortal Tully, 385. In joy and in, 502. If that rebellion, 443. Immortal verse, 594. In joyous youth, 706. If that the earth, 549. Immortal Vida, 53. In judgment of, 35I. IrVDEX OF FIRST IaNES. 755 In knots they stand, 406. In the bright moonshine, I67. Indentures, cov'nants, 291. In known images, 303 In the churchyard, 503. Indiff'rence, clad in, 202, 406. In lazy apathy, 40I. In the clear azure, 099. Infinite Truth, 587. In length of train, i5s. In the corrupted currents, 294. Infobrmer of the planetary, 520. In life's cool vale, 260. In the dark winter, 658. Ingenious to their ruin, 6i8. In life's last scene, 22. In the depth, 700. Ingratitude! thou, 266. In lopping and felling, 32. In the dispute, 42. Injurious strength, 230. In losing fbrtune, 205. In the fat age, 330. Innocence shall make, 266. In love, the victors, 329. In the fatness of, 6oo. Innumerous songsters, 8o. In love's voyage, 313. In the flowers, 270. Instant, he cried, 139. In Lydia born, 245. In the flush of youth, 703. Instant he flew, 26o. In manhood, in the full, 702. In the fruitful earth, 539. Instantly I plunge, 383. In many ways, 308. In the galaxy, 517. Instead of golden fruits, 203. In March is good graffing, 32. In the human breast, 392. Instead of love-enliven'd, 436. In May get a weed-hook, 32. In the hush of April, 603. Instead of powder'd curls, 238. In me, as yet, ambition, 34. In the June twilight, 589. Instructed ships, 98. In men we various, 674. In the long vista, 206. Instructive satire, 294, 46I. In minds and manners, 334. In the midst, 285. Insulting tyranny, 590. In misery's darkest, 597. In the morn and liquid, 720. Intemp'rate youth, 269, 708. In moderation, 4I9. In the nice bee, 267. Intent he seem'd, 343. In modern wit, 530. In the remotest, 554. Interspersed in lawns, to8. In moving lines, 304. In the same beaten, 542. Intestine war no more, 604. In my cheerful, 498. In the soul, 075. Into earth's spongy, 454. In my youth's summer, 705. In the Spring a fuller, 5I4. Into myself my, 442. In nature there's no blemish, 280, 592. In the sun, 27. Intrust thy fortune, 434. In noble minds, 5II. In the sweet morn, 7i4. Invading fears, o8i. In ocean's wide, 480. In the temple, 340. Iris there, with humid, I09. In one consort, 452. In the valley ofJehoshaphat, 022. Is all forgot, 21x. In our fantastic climes, 240. In the well-framed models, 42. Is't death to fall, 205. in parchment then, 309. In the wind, 204. Is it enough, 467. In part shed down, 5i7. In thee, oppressors, 490. Is it for thee, 76. In parts soperior, 645. In their looks divine, 33I. Is it for this they study, 56. In peace, Love tunes, 320. In their motions, 603. Is it her nature, 375. In peace there's nothing, 6i6. In their tender nonage, 95. Is't night's, 379. In peace, ye shades, 059. In these deep solitudes, 102, 345. Is it not better then, 453. In pleasure's dream, 307. In these soft shades, 8. Is it not better to die, 237. In plenty starving, x85, 260. In things which most concern, 277. Is't not enough plagues, 614. In poets as true genius, oo9. In this grave age, 043. Is't not enough that, 170. In points of honour, 254. In this kind, 62. Is't not enough the, 296. In Pope I cannot, 54. In this pile shall, 650o. Is't not enough to, 220. In praise so just, 424. In this plain fable, 087. Is it not monstrous, 18, 045. In praising Chloris, 62. In this point, 343, 420. Is my muse, 409. In pride, in reas'ning pride, 430. In this remembrance, 2S5. Is no return, 228. In quiet shades, io6. In this state.she gallops, i68. Is not from hence, 520. In Raleigh mark, 55. In this still labyrinth, 203. Is not the care, 429. In reason's absence, 267. In this wild world, 09. Is not the causer, 036. In religion, 446. In this world of sin, 693. Is not the mighty, 305. In requital ope, 403. In those blest days, 256. Is pain to them, 386. In robe of lily white, 053. In those fair vales, 455. Is she not more, 67, 388. In rueful gaze, 32. In thy danger, 428. Is there a heart, 364. In sad and ashy, 653. In thy discourse, 104. Is there a tongue, o105. In secret shadow, 095. In thy face, 39. Is there a variance, 295. In shady bow'r, 234. In thy faint slumber, 049. Is there aught, 492. In shallow furrows, 27. In thy felonious heart, ii5. Is there, kIind heaven, 203. In sheets of rain, 438. In times of old, 176. - Is there no means, 405. In shipping such, 469. In trance ecstatic, 38. Is there no way, 230. In short, so swift, 277. In troth, thou'rt able, 038. Is there who, lock'd, 58. In short, the force, 047. In us both one soul, 359. Is this a bridal, 184. In silence weep, 624. In vain are all, io5. Is this the counsel, 200. In simple manners, 336. In vain did nature's, 382. Is this the world, 687. In sleep, when fancy, i46. In vain doth man, 141. Is time the treasury, 621. In solemn silence, 463. In vain for life, 34. Is wretchedness deprived, 533In solitary groves, 497. In vain his little, 97. Is yellow dirt, 60, 224. In solitude, 497. In vain I strove, 309. It does not me a whit, 251. In solitude, when we, 496. In vain kind seasons, 31. It easeth some, 504. In some fair body, 509. In vain my heroes, 396. It engenders choler, 39. In some fair evening, 048. In vain on study, 526. It fed flow'rs, 091. In sooth, I know not, 346. In vain Thalestris, 09. It feeds each living, 095. In soothing thenm, 443. In vain the barns, 29. It fostered them, 457. In souls prepared, 129. In vain the grave, 40I. It goes against, 223. In Spain, our springs, 96. In vain the hinds, 27. It hath the excuse, 729. In spring the fields, i8. In vain the master, 522. It irks me, 200. In such a cause, 29I. In vain we lift, 430. It is a custom, 121. In such a night, 343. In vain with folding arms, 8i. It is a fearfiul, 423. In such a time, 98. In vain you tell, 18, 309. It is a good, 430. In such business, 057. In various talk, io4, 480. It is a judgment, 374, 399. In such charities, 92. In velvet white, i5o. It is a purposed thing, 420. In such green palaces, 647. In waking whispers, 249. It is enacted, 292. In such lays as neither, oii. In weak complaints, 452. It is for homely features, 249. In such righteousness, 0oo. In winter when the, 578. It is for that, 670. In swinish sleep, 489. In winter's tedious, 544. It is fortune's use, 204. In tedious courtship, iio. In words, as fashions, 684. It is great, 231. In Thames, the ocean's, 455. In years he seem'd, 22. It is held, 592. In that corroding, 464. In yonder spring, 458. It is, methinks, 357. In that day's feasts, 62. In your excuse, 30o. It is my love, 320. In that sleep, I49. In youth alone, 709. It is my nature's plague, 272. In that soft season, 503. Inclement weather, 639. It is not beauty, 62. In that sweet mood, 349. Indeed, true gladness, 476. It is not for your, 360. In the body's prison, 507. Indeed you thank'd me, 228,. It is not growing, 572. 756 INDEX OF FIiRST LINES. It is not poetry, 412. Justice to merit, 278. Learn Aristotle's rules, 220. It is not so with Him, 435. Justice, when equal scales, 278. Learn of the little, 472. It is not that, 329. Justly Caesar scorns, 248. Learn then what morals, ii6. It is not virtue, 433. Justly thou abhorr'st, 298. Learn to live well, 22. It is still fortune's, 423. Learn to win, 307. It is success, 53'. Learn what thou ow'st, 295. It is the art, i58. K. Learn with how little, 89. It is the hour, i6i. Learn'd he was, 403. It is the lark, 78, 370. Kate, like the hazel twig, 68. Learning by study, 296. It is the secret, 543. Keen are the pangs, 326. Learning his ship, 476. It is the twilight hour, 589. Keep still your former, 566. Learning is but an adjunct, 297. It is toolate, I34. Kind sleep affords, 487. Learning was posed, 296. It is too much, 634. Kind wits will those, 225. Learning's little household, 297. It loolks as fate, 250. Kindness by secret, 280. Leave, ah, leave off, I37. It makes the gloomy face, 298. Kindness for man, 82. Leave behind earth's, 692. It moves thee more,643. Kindness has resistless charms, 280. Leave dang'rous truths, i88, 461. It must be done, 13I. Kindness in women, 675. Leave flattery to fulsome, 57. It must be so, 265, 505. Kindness itself, 23. Leave for a while, 407. It never yet did hurt, 257. King Richard doth appear, 540. Leave her to heav'n, ioI. It often falls in course, 700. Kings are like stars, 520. Leave nothing fitted, 104. It pleases time, 293. Kings, by grasping, 280. Leave such to trifle, 196. It seem'd sohard, 54I. Kings that rule, 453. Leave such to tune, 5I, II7, 529. It shows a will, 443. Kings' titles, 283. Leave the mere country, io6. It snows! it snows, 637. Knights in knightly deeds, 25I. Leave to fathom, 34. It stopp'd at once, I27. Knots, by the conflux, 577. Leave to thy children, 96. It upbraids you, 209. Know, all the good, 408. Leaves of flowers, 79. It was a worthy, 728. Know, he that, 500o. Left him in arms, i8o. It was an evening, i62. Know, sir, that I, 94. "Leicester," she cried, 630. It was excess, 270. Know, then, I here, 233. Lend, lend your wings, 132. It was midnight, 633. Know, then, that some, 720. Lend me thine aid, 2io. It was my breath that, 617. Know then this truth, 599. Lend me your guards, 444. It was my fortune, 327. Know then thyself, 332. Lend me your song, 500oo, 514. It was that fatal, 474. Know, then, whatever, 245. Leonidas and Washington, 395. It was the copy, 545. Know, thy name is lost, 566. Less reading than, 5r. It was the first, 684. Know well each ancient's, II7. Less than half, 158. It was the lark, 78, 359. Know whate'er. 268. Lest he should suspect, 187. It was the nightingale, 78. Knowing by fame, 417. Lest thy redundant, 213. It was the owl, 78. Knowing this, that never yet, 587. Let a man he ne'er so wise, 17I. It was the time, 482. Knowing when, 4II. Let all your precepts, Iig9. It well becomes, 276. lKnowledge and wisdom, 283, 643. Let Araby boast, 638. It were all one, 325. Knowledge comes, but, 647. Let Araby extol, 28, 213. It will help me, 266. Knowledge descries alone, 284. Let argument bear, 42. It will live, 700. Knowledge is not happiness, 283. Let authors write, 583. It would become, 211. Knowledge is proud, 283. Let be thy bitter, 336. Its length runs, 454. Knowledge of all, 283. Let brutes and vegetables, 594. It's no' in books, 83. Knowledge or wealth, ioo. Let cavillers deny, 442. Knowledge, when wisdom, 284. Let cheerfulness, 94. Known mischiefs have, 243. Let Cully, Cockwood, 143. ~J.~~ ~ Know'st thou not, 441. Let determined things, 279. Know'st thou not any, 224. Let each becalm, 185. Jarring interests, 419. Know'st thou not yet, 315. Let early care, 88. Jealous souls will not, 272. Know'st with an equal, 277. Let earth unbalanced, 518. Jesus, lover of my soul, 553. Let elegiac ray, 366. John Keats, who was cill'd off, 1I4. Let envy howl, 585. Join voices, all ye living, 75. L. Let envy, then, 158. Jove cannot fear, 227. Let Europe, saved, 464. Jove, grant me length, 21. Labour and rest, 487. Let Eve (for I have, 486. Jove left the blissful, 313. Ladies like variegated, 673. Let ev'ry tongue, 9o. Jove saw from high, i25. Ladies, whose bright eyes, i65. Let faint copier, 464. Jove sent and found, io8. Ladies, whose love, 330. Let fall thy blade, 62. Jove was not more pleased, iii. Lady, that in the prime, 584. Let fame, that all hunt, I74. Jove's ethereal lays, 268. Lady, throw back, 45. Let fate do her worst, 348. Joy being altogether, 503. Lampoons, like squibs, 461. Let flames on your, 38i. Joy is such a foreigner, 274. Land arable, driven, 32. Let fools the fame, 419. Joy Ikneels, at morning's, 537. "Land of song," 396. Let fortune empty, 201, 203. Joy may you have, 175. Larded all with, 624. Let frantic Talbot, 78, 432. Joy of my life, 327. Large foundations, 45. Let freedom never, 205. Joy's recollection, 347. Large was his bounty, 86. Let fuller notes, 368. Judge not the preacher, 430. Last night the snow, 7-3. Let gorgeous Tragedy, I44. Judge not what, 407. Last night the very gods, 149, 428. Let grow thy sinews, 6i6. Judge we by nature, 373. Last of the hours, 590. Let guilt or fear, 234. Judges and senates, 224, 275. Last scene of all, 24.. Let her glad valleys, 3t, 467. Julius with honour, 396. Lastly came Winter, 641. Let her, like me, 274. Just above you, 5i6. Lastly stood War, 608. Let high birth triumph, 36. just as a mother, 710. Late, very late, 529. Lethim alone, 428. just before the confines, 454. Laugh at your friends, 286. Let him keep, 24. Just in the gate, 21. Laugh not too much, 286. Let him spend his time, 564. Just men, by whom, 294. Laughter is easy, 547. Let hiIn that makes, i66. Just men they seem'd, 278. Law-giving heroes, 294. Let him that will, 691. Just of thy \vord, 278. Laws are but positive, 312. Let him with pedants, 297. Just precepts thus, i62. Laws can discover sin, 290. Let his tormentor, ioo. Just strives to make, 414. Laws do not put, 287. Let humble Allen, 93. Just trial, ere I merit, 35o. Laws grind the poor, 290. Let it likewise, I50o. Justice is lame, 29i. Laws support those crimes, 287. Let it not your wonder, 325. Justice is their virtue, 278. Laws which none shall find, 290. Let joy or ease, toi, 303. Justice, like lightning, 279. Lay lime to tangle, 321. Let knowledge grow, 284. Justice must punish, 278. Lay the rough paths, 374. Let me ask thee, 655. Justice submitted, 291. Lead, kindly light, 435. Let me be no assistant, Ir. Justice that sits, 278. Leans o'er its humble gate, 249. Let me embrace, ig9. IVDEX OF FIRST ~LIANES. 757 Let me forever gaze, 83. Let's choose executors, I35. Live, that thy young, 707. Let me have men, 489. Let's leave this keen, 652. Live then, thou great, 44. Let.me hear from thee, 298. Let's take the instant, 24, 559. Live to do good, 725. Let me lament, 46. Lethe, the river of oblivion, 200. Live while you live, 300. Let me live harmlessly, 39. Letters admit not, 86. Lived in his saddle, 258. Let me not burst, I34. Lie still, my Plutarch, 527. Lively vigour, 352. Let me still take, i82. Liest thou asleep, 637. Lives of great men, 230, 302. Let me wipe off, 55o. Life and death are equal, I70. Lo! at the crouch, 482. Let melancholy, 346. Life and long health, 403. Lo! here the gentle lark, 78. Let merit crowns, 406. Life and sense, 44I. Lo! I am' here to answer, 605. Let moths through, 84. Life and thought, 498. Lo! in the painted, 5i6. Let mutual joys, 318. Life is a jest, 301. Lo, on the eastern, 362. Let my due feet, 41. Life is a waste, 302. Lo! the small stars, 5i8. Let my lamp, 40I. Life is a weary, 302. Lo! the world is rich, 693. Let my soft minutes, 243. Life is the triumph, I38. Lo! two most lovely, 227. Let never day, 348. Life knowath no like, 347. Lofty trees; with sacred shades, I06. Let Newton, pure, 402. Life openeth brightly, 706. Long draughts of sleep, 485. Let no court sycophant, 566. Life! we've been long together, 299. Long galleries of ancestors, 35. Let no man seek, 2i8. Life went a-Maying, 707. Long has a race, 143. Let no man trust, 235. Life with ease, 1-72. Long has the furious, 705. Let no presuming, 647. Life with my Indamora, 30I. Long have your ears, I43. Let no sheep, i9I. Life without love's, 308. Long-hoof'd, short-jointed, 259. Let no vain fear, 172. Life's but a walking shadow, 303. Long, long be my, 348. Let no vain hope, II9. Life's cares are comforts, 89. Long, long may you, 38. Let noble Warwick, 42I. Life's stream hurries, 284. Long since with woe, 543. Let none direct thee, 277. Lifted aloft, 80. Long tost with storms, 565. Let not old age, 34. Light, 358. Long untraveled heaths, Ic9. Let not one look, 204. Light dies before, 305. Long while I sought, i66. Let not the muse, 4i8. Light from her native, 305. Longing they look, I40. Let not the peace, 6o0. Light fumes are merry, 267, 344. Longinus, Livy, 527. Let old Timotheus, 365. Light! Nature's resplendent, 306. Look forward what's, 300, 436. Let one great day, I93. Light suff'rings, 532. Look how the flow, 519. Let one report to him, 227. Light thickens, 77, 379. Look how the purple, I92. Let one's spirit, 2I7. Light to thy path, 723. Look how we can, go. Let other poets raise, 567. Lightnings, that show, 475. Look humble upward, 444. Let others better, 463. Like a black sheet, 474. Look, love, what, 359. Let others freeze, 39. Like a cloistress, 550. Look nature through, 375. Let our finger ache, 543. Like a declining statesman, 4I6. Look now for no, 157. Let partial spirits, 299. Like a dog, he hunts, 149. Look on me as, 311. Let poets match, 4I4. Like a fiery meteor, 470. Look on this beautifill, 688. Let purling streams, 285. Like a long team, 74. Look round the, 224. Let reason then, 441. Like a lovely tree, 433, 663. Look round to see, 570. Let sage experience, 30. Like a miser, 59. Look up a height, 78. Let servant be ready, 32. Like a rich vessel, go. Look where he comes, 490. Let some strange, 148. Like a rock unmoved, 52I. Looking my love, i8. Let still the woman, 341. Like a strutting, I45. Loose his beard, 238. Let stubborn pride, I75. Like a white brow, 236. Lord of yourself, 629. Let subtle schoolmen, 42. Like an oak, 575. Lords of the world, 300. Let terror strike, 181. Like as the culver, 79. Lose not the honour, 25I. Let that man with, 696. Like bright Aurora, 362. Loud o'er the rest, 367. Let the keen. hunter, 26I. Like buoys that never sink, 297. Loud-voiced night, 639. Let the learn'd, 402. Like doctors thus, 42. Love, 329. Let the night be, 383. Like early lovers, 271. Love adds a precious, 322. Let the plowmen's prayer, 30. Like fawning courtiers, I78. Love and beauty, I38. Let the silent, 40I. Like following life, 302. Love and Truth, 586. Let the wide world, 456. Like friendly colours, 210. Love bears within itself, 307. Let the world be told, 690. Like jewels to advantage, 273. Love built a stately, 644. Let them call, 443. Like leaves on trees, 333. Love built on beauty, 63. Let them exult, 707. Like mighty rivers, 392. Love cools, friendship, 325. Let them sleep, 483. Like mine, thy gentle, I43. Love did his reason, 3I0. Let them who truly, 2C9. Like Niobe we marble grow, 232. Love doth to her eyes, 325. Let this and every, 4I. Like one of two, 424, 453. Love, duty, safety, 374. Let this auspicious, 375. Like one that on, 80o. Love endures no tie, 314. Let those deplore, 449. Like other tyrants, I38. Love! fantastic pow'r, 3I9. Let those teach others, ii6. Like our shadows, 25. Love first invented, 4c9. Let thy hand supply, 29, 570. Like pensive beauty, 62. Love, fixt to one, 312. Let thy vines, 214. Like perspectives, 389. Love, Gratitude, 624. Let us divide, 2i9. Like some fair flow'r, 193. Love hath chased, 488. Let us no more, go. Like some tall tree, 570. Love him by parts, 310. Let us not aggravate, 500. Like the Chaldean, 515. Love, hope, and joy, 302, 35I. Let us not burthen, 394. Like the sun, 93. Love in these, 3I7. Let us not then suspect, 243. Like the sweet melody, 543. Love indulged, 318. Let us not write, 530. Like those that see, 473. Love is a fire, 307. Let us now, in, 3I5. Like to an almond-tree, 578. Love is a medley, 329. Let us read the dreams, 723. Like unto golden hooks, 39. Love is a passion, 307. Let us revolve that roll, 252. Like you, a man, I72. Love is a plant, 3I5. Let us satisfy our eyes, I74. Like you, commission'd, 94. Love is a smoke, 32I. Let us seek some, 550. Lilies more white, i95. Love is a sudden, 209. Let us sit upon, 282. Limping death, lash'd on, I28. Love is all spirit, i69. Let us take the, 432. Line after line, 548. Love is blind, 321. Let us, then, be up, 284. " Linger," I cried, 558. Love is by fancy led, I75. Let us throw more logs, 603. Linger, O gentle Time, 558. Love is fill, 323. Let vanity adorn, 592. Lintot, dull rogue, ii8. Love is indestructible, 326. Let vernal airs, 368. Lips never part, 69. Love is not in, 314. Let wantons, light of heart, I2I,. Listen, listen, 657. Love is not to be reason'd, 33, 306. Let weeds, instead of, I9I. Listen where thou art sitting, 239. Love is, or ought to be, 320. Let wit her sails, I79. Listening senates, 157. Love is your master, 322. Let your ceaseless, 424. Little knows, 225. Love like a shadow, 326. Let your various creams, 2I4. Live still, and write, i6o. Love, like spring, 3I4. 758 ZINDEX OF F~IRST INBES. Love looks not, 324. Man is a child, 500. Meanwhile enjoy, 243. Love made his doubt, 31o. Man is a very, 332. Meanwhile the south wind, 522. Love made my emergent, 204. Man is but man, 33I. Meanwhile, thy indignation, I83. Love moderately, 323. Man is his own star, 45. Medea must not draw, 145. Love must free-hearted, 308. Man is thy there, 333. Meek Lamb of God, 6,9. Love never fails, 309. Man, like the generous, 494. Meek Walton's heavenly, 55. Love no more is made, 308. Man loves knowledge, 283. Meet then the senior, 466. Love not! love not, 317. Man makes his fate, I77. Meet we the med'cine, 397. Iove oft to virtuous, 309. Man may the sterner, 665. Meeting with Time, 559. Love once given, 3Io. Man must be known, 33I. Melancholy, 344. Love raised a beauty, 66. Man o'erlaboured, 482. Melancholy is a fearful, 344. Love reckons hours, 17. Man seduced, 208. Melancholy lifts her head, 487. Love refines, 316. AMan should do, 447. Melons on beds, 2I4. Love reigns a very, 59I. Man, the tyrant, 331. Men are but children, 331. Love seldom haunts, 297. Man, though limited, 208. Men are more eloquent, I57, 675. Love softens me, 321. Man while he loves, 3I5. Men are unhappy, 398. Love, sole lord, 3I7. Man with raging drink, 268. Men as resolute, 80o. Love such nicety, 328. Man with strength, 208. Men at some time, 46. Love, sweetness, goodness, 3i6. Man yields to custom, 120. Men can counsel, 19. Love taught him, 334. Mankind one day, 33I. Men divinely taught, 226. Love that comes, 323. Manners with fortunes, 335. Men do not stand, 280. Love the sense, 3I2. Man's at the best, 654. Men dream in courtship, 339. Love they him call'd, 327. Man's feeble race, 33I. Men drop so fast, I58. Love! thou hast, 314. Man's friend, his mediator, 444. Men dying make, 625. Love, though most sure, 309. Man's greatest strength, 250. Men judge by the, 122. Love to our citadel, I64. Man's inhumanity, I20. Men make resolves, 391. Love various minds, 3II. Man's love is of man's life, 307. Men may live fools, 197. Love virtue, 598. Man's plea to man, 427. Men more divine, 676. Love warms our fancy, 50. Man's rich restorative, 493. Men must endure, 134. Love was no more, 313. Man's rich with little, 375. Men of your large profession, 295. Love was to his, 3i6. Man's that savage, 465. Men of wit, 652. Love, well thou know'st, 319. Man's world is Pain, 695. Men plough with oxen, 26. Love which lover, 326. Many a morning, 550. Men should press forward, 36. Love, why do we, 328. Mlany a night I saw, 520. Men sleeping sound, 487. Love will not be spurr'd, 323. Many a sweet rise, 364. Men such as choose, 294. Love with white lead, 677. Many are the, 394. Men who their duties, 417. Love yields at last, 87.- Many dream not, 204. Men's evil manners, 336. Love yourself, 253. Many knotty points, ig9. Men's judgments sway, 276. Love's a malady, 312. Many monstrous forms, 146. Mentes, an ever-honour'd, 252. Love's heralds should, 326. Many rare pithy saws, 45. Merab's long hair, 236. Love's like a torch, 329. Many that are, 442. Merciful heav'n, 349. Love's not love, 321. Many things impossible, 399. Merciful powers, 489. Love's of a strangely, 308. Mark a bounding valour, 592. Mercy above, 349. Love's soft sympathy, 308. Mark but how terribly, 164. Mercy has, could, 350. Love's tongue proves dainty, 32I. Mark by what wretched steps, 248. Mercy will sit, 349. Loveliest of women, 62. Mark how the lark, 73. Merely to die, I3I. Loveliness, 153.'Mark how the shifting, 473. Merrily, merrily goes, 472. Lovely concord, 399. Mark if to get them, 297. Merrily, merrily shall, 577. Lovers and madness, 267. Mark ruffian Violence, 663. Metals may blazon, 63. Low at his foot, 285. Mark those who dote, 4I7. Methinks heroic poesy, 409. Low-cowering shall, 586. Mark! we use, I35. Methinks I feel, 325. Low waves the rooted, 200. Mark well the flow'ring, 27, 90o. Methinks it were, 253. Lowly they bow'd, 426. Mark when she smiles, 228. Methought I heard, 489. Lucan, content with praise, 48.. Marriage-rings are not, 337. Methotght I saw, 53. Lull'd in the countless, 348. Martial, thou gav'st, 49. Methought it was, 350. Luxurious kings, 28i. Matchless his pen, 57. Michael firom Adam's, 2I5. Luxury, 330. Matter and figure, I85. Middling his head, 361. Matter of mirth, 352. Mid-May's eldest, 458. Mature the virgin was, 67. Midst the desert, Io8. M. May he not craftily, 2Io. Midst thy own flock, 445. May Heav'n, great monarch, 82. Might Dryden bless, 51. Madam, if that, 389. May here her monument, i6o. Might I but through, 299. Madam, new years, 375. May I govern, 392. Might we but hear, 377. MSadam, persuade me, 552. May never glorious sun, 54I. Mightier far, 330. Madam, this is mare, 158. May no such, 4I6. Mighty dulness, 413. Madam, you and my, go. May none whose, 43. Mighty in her ships, 469. Made for his use, 207. May slighted woman, 679. Mild as when ZephyrLus, I92. MIadness, we fancy, 286. May the man, 672. Mild heav'n, 89. Maidens, like moths, 337. May they increase, 580. Mild vibrations, 248. Maids, women, wives, 312. SMay they not, 378. Millions of spiritual, 37. Majestic woods, 200. May you be happy, 505. Milton's strong pinion, 52. Mlake all our trumpets, 373. Mlay your sick fame, 17I. Minds, i88. Make false hair, 24o. Me all too mean, 53. Mine after-life, 2I7. Make haste, 36i. Me emptiness and dtlness, I54. Mine be a cot, io8. Make his chronicle, 384. Me, his advocate, 444. Mine emulation, 62, 252. Make known, 235. Sle let the tender, 362, 380. Mine eye hath found, 2i6. Make mad the guilty, 235. Me, poor man, my library, 85. Mine eyes. 325. Make sacred Charles's, I59. Me rather had, IIo. Mine eyes he closed, I75. Make the proper use, 58. Me you have often, 309. Mine is a love, 3II. MIake we our camp, 642. Meadows trim, 192. Mine is th' invention, 270. Make Windsor's hills, 286. Mean as I am, 412. Mine is the shipwreck, 474. Making such difference, 360. Meanly they seek, 65I. Mingles with thee, 284. Malice in critics, II5. Means I must use, 4I8. Minos, the strict inquisitor, I22. Malmutius, 295. Meantime a smiling, 97. Mirth, admit me, 352. Man fearlessly, 583. Meantime he smokes, 104. Mirth makes them, 352. Man, foolish man, 333. Meantime her warlike, I4I. Mischance and sorrow, 503. Man hath his daily work, 284. Meantime in shades, 485. Misdoubt my constancy, i64. Man hath two attendant, 599. Meantime the pastor, 50o. Misfortune waits, 353. Man in society, 494. Meantime the sun, 16i. Mishaps are master'd, I9. INDEX OF FIRST INVeS. 759 Miss not the occasion, 385. My copper medals, 40. My share in pale, 463. Misses! the tale, 337. My country's good, 397. My sheep I neglected, 467. Missing thee, 354. My crown is absolute, 280. My sire in caves, 521. Moan, 0 ye Autumn, 535. My crown is in my heart, Io03. My slumbers-if 1, 482. Modern'pothecaries, 405. My days among the dead, 85. My sons, let your, 209. Modest doubt is call'd, 646. My desolation does begin, I40. My sons their old, 96. Modest dulness, I54. My duty, I55. My soul aches, 420. Moist earth produces, 27. My earliest mistress, 409. My soul grows hard, s26. Money answers, 660. My ears are deaf, 442. My soul is all the same, I72. Money, the life-blood, 353. My ears still ring with, 545. My soul is on, 125. Moon! if your influence, 563. My earthly, by his, I04. My soul is quite, 48r. Moon of the summer, 534. My eye, descending. 454. My state of health, 246. Morality, by her false, 335. My eyes are still, i64. My suff'rings for you, 698. Morals snatch from, 49. My falcon now is sharp, 77. My sum of duty, I54. Morat's too insolent, I58. My fancy form'd, 38. My tender age, 407. More danger now, 333. My fates permit, I78. My tender youth, 7I9. More in prosperity, 433. My father has repented, 447. My thoughtless youth, 709. More moderate griefs, 226. My Father, the guide, 719. My thoughts are turn'd, 606. More pleased to keep it, 260. My father's, mother's, 426. My thoughts, imprison'd, 659. More ships in calms, 433. My favourite books, 84. My tongue hath but, 544. More than mortal grace, 227. My fell of hair, 240. My tongue's use, 370o. More than one steed, 260. My fleece of woolly hair, 24I. My unprepared and, 448. More things are wrought, 429. My flocks, my fields, 289. My verse is satire, 46I. More true delight, 106. My frail fancy, 327. My very enemy's dog, 93. Morn, in the white, 36i. My full-blown youth, 709. My wakeful lay, 356. Morn, late rising, 36i. My future days, 447. My wife is in a, 633. Morning breaks, 539. My garden takes up, 2I9. My wife, the kindest, 632. Morning light, 358. My glories are past danger, 221. My wily nurse, 312. Morpheus, the humble, 483. My God, my Father, I33. My words fly up, 428. Most authors steal, 51. My good stars, 46. My youth, my youth, 7o0. Most by the numbers, I27. My gravity, 432. Mylo, forbear to call, 621. Most Christian kings, 6i8. My guilt thy growing, 234, 596. Myriad are the, 66x. Most critics, fond, ii8. My guiltless blood, 55I. Myself from flattering, 465. Most dangerous, 553. My hands are guilty, 234. Myself have limed, 77. Most glorious Lord, I37. My hasting days, 22. Myself will search, 213. Most happy he, I40. My heart, 225. Mysterious Love, 306. Most have found, 28. My heart and my chill, 141. Mysterious secrets, I57. Most men admire, 598. My heart had still, 306. Mystical dance, 5I7. Most men are so unjust, 648. My heart hath melted, 550. Most shallowly did you, 6i6. My heart is drown'd, 142. Most women's weak, 667. My heart is yours, 309. N. Most wretched men, 532. My heart laments, i58. Mother of science, 283. My heart was made, 320. Nameless in dark oblivion, 584. Mourn, hapless Caledonia, 55I. My heart, which by a, 543. Names fresh engraved, 65I. Moved by my charms, 319. My heart's dear love, 34I. Names memorable, 50o. Much do I suffer, 4I4. My heavy eyes, 232. Nan Page, my daughter, i68. Much is the force, 4II. My heavy son, 346. Narcissus' charge, 65. Much labour is required, 26, 570. My hopes all flat, 373. Nations grown corrupt, 206. Much learned dust, 400. My hopes pursue, 3Io. Nations unborn, 41. Much learning shows, 297. My humble muse, i99. Nature affords, 374. Much-suif'ring heroes, 252. My known virtue, 462. Nature and duty, 33. Much thou hast said, 55. My lady liege, 666. Nature and nature's laws, 52, 373. Murm'ring waters fall, 285. My life a long dead calm, 304. Nature, as it grows, 24. Muse! at that name, 548. My life, if thou, 299. Nature, disturb'd, 375. Muse, hang this harp, 583. My life is but a wind, 303. Nature does require, 246, 374. Music can noble, 364. My life is not dated, 50o. Nature else hath conference, I46. Music do I hear, 370. My life thou shalt command, 304. Nature's fair table-book, 40I. Music has charms, 364. My list'ning powers, 476. Nature first pointed, 208. Music in the close, 370. My lord advances, 335. Nature from the storm, 524. Music of sighs, 364. My lord leans wondrously, 246. Nature gives her o'er, 326. Music! Oh, how faint, 367. My lord shall never rest, 545. Nature has cast me, 405. Music resembles poetry, 368. My loss is such, 5oi. Nature hath framed, 335. Music so softens, 371. My love and fear, 212. Nature here, 373. Music the fiercest, 367. My love doth so approve, 323. Nature, I thought, 12I. Music when soft voices, 604. My love is thaw'd, 32i. Nature in man, 372. Music, which gentlier, 37I. My love to Hermia, 326. Nature in man's heart, 372. Musicians and dancers, 22I. My love was such, 313. Nature, like a weak, 562. Must business thee, 309. My love your claim, 3II. Nature made ev'ry fop, 197. Must he, whose altars, 353. My master is, 26i. Nature not bounteous now, I9o. Must I consume, I24. My midnight lamp, 526. Nature seems, I31. Must I new bars, 278 My mildness hath allayed, 350. Nature stands aghast, 538. Must I pass, I33. My mind on its own centre, 20I. Nature stints our appetite, 243. Must one rash word, 439. My mind to me, 35I. Nature, that rude, 373. Must the whole man, I32. My mother, 425. Nature to all things, 65I. Must'ring all her wiles, 8i, 67I. My mother Circe, I9I. Nature to each, 299. Mute and amazed, 237. My mother! manhood's, 362. Nature to these, 373. Mute solemn sorrow, 50I. My Nan shall be, I53, I68. Nature to youth hot rashness, 708. My absent mates, 39. My Oberon, I49. Nature's fair table-book, 437. My babbling praises, 424. My only books, 84. Nature's full blessings, 373. My banks they are, 490. My only strength, 363. Nature's law, 287. My birthday! what a, 7I7. My open'd thought, 424. Nature's own work, 373. My blood ran back, i8o. My own breath, 276. Naught but a genius, 653. My body is from all diseases free, 245. My own face, 388. Naught treads so, 56i. My cause is call'd, 289. My pity hath been, 406. Naught unprosperous, 434. My cheeks are gutter'd, 549. My plenteous joys, 244. Nay, half in heaven, 344. My childhood's earliest, 7I5. My prayers, 427. Nay, now you are, 370. My conscience bids me, IoI. My retreat the best, 4I9. Nay, oft in dreams, I52. My conscience hath, IoI. My secret wishes, 278. Nay, speak no ill, 683. My copper lamps, 40. My servant, sir, 99. Nay, Sweet, no thought, 625. 760 IZNDEX O- oF FIRST LINES. Nay, the birds' rural, 71. No drum or trumpet, o09. No story I unfold, 659. Nay, there's a time, 383. No ear can hear, 99. No style is held, 326. Nay, we must think, 88. No eye to mingle, 131. No sullen discontent, 88. Nay, women are frail, 676. No falsehood shall, 170, No sulphureous glooms, 524. Ne in her speech, 677. No fancy mine, 6oo00. No tears, Celia, 308. Ne let false whispers, 49r. No fears to beat away, 244. No, the heart that has, 3I7. Near the hearth a laurel, 569. No fences parted fields, 26. No theatres of oaks, 571. Nearer acquainted, 386. No fire, nor foe, 86. No, there is a necessity, 86. Nearer care supplies, 502. No forest, cave, 333. No thralls like them, 48I. Nearer heav'n, 495. No fort can be, 600oo. No'rime, thou shalt, 559Necessity or chance, I79. No! Freedom has, 206. No:'tis not here, 498. Ned is in the gout, 401. No friend's complaint, I32. No toil, no hardship, 34. Needless Was written law, 288. No fruitful crop, 27. No turbots dignify, i85. Ne'er to these chambers, 5It. No further intercourse, 225. No vice so simple, 595. Ne'er was dash'd out, 65'i. No gale disturb, 572. No war, or battle's sound, 613. Neglect the rule, II7. No good of worth, 697. No warning of, 314. Neither a borrower, 211. No gradual bloom, 195. No weeping orphan, 423. Neither deep groans, 55i. No hammers fell, 4I.'No! when the sons, 422. Neither my place, 503, No happier task, i65. No widow at his funeral, 217. Neither night nor, 653. No happiness can be, 243. No wild enthusiast, 725. Neither their sighs, 665. No harsh reflection, 348. No wit to flatter, 188. Nero would be, 447. No heretics derive, 400. No woman's heart, 676. Never any sabbath, 459. No jealousy their dawn, 336. No wonder sleep, 493. Never did men, ii. No joy like by-past, 347. No words suffice, 156, 654. Never durst poet, 322. No kings nor nations, 125. No worthies form'd, I54. Never morning wore, 504. No law betwixt two, 288. No youth shall equal, 709. Never on man, 252. No less alike, 645. Noble Boyle, 48. Never shake, 241. No light, but rather, 5ox. Noble friends and fellows, 212. Ne,;er since that, 168. No little scribbler, 336. Noble pity held, 592. Never the earth, 677. No longer live, 263. Nobler birth, 331. Never to blend, 505. No longer now, 5i, 651. Nocturnal shades, 378. Never wedding, 433. No longer now does my, 277. None, 372. Never will I trust, 530. No longer shall thy bodice, 152. None acted mournings, 363. Never yet one hour, I49. No longer shall thy comely, 240. None are so desolate, 496. New customs, 176. No man condemn, 326. None are so gross, 5o6. New Eves in all, 671. No man e'er felt, 294. None but a woman, 666. New graces yearly, xzS. No man has more, 126. None hut an author, 56. New herds of beasts, 72. No man is blest by accident, 244. None but the lark, 74. New honours come upon him, 252. No man so potent, iio. None can animate, 365. New leaves on ev'ry, 570. No martial project, 607. None can have, 416. New loves you seek, 312. No medicine in, 343. None grow so old, 347. New rebellions, 443. No merit their, 350. None have been, 58. Next, Comedy appear'd, 144. No metal can, 158. None in more languages, 44. Next fenced with hedges, 26. No nmore, 98. None knew, till guilt, 18i. Next morn, betimes, 88. No more accuse thy pen, 56, ii6. None pities him, 406. Next o'er his books, 53, 84. No more can impure, 309. None so lovely, 329. Next of his men, 469. No more delays, 83. None taught the trees, 575. Next Petrarch follow'd, 48. No more, my goats, 190, 467. None was disgraced, I7I1. Next shines the harp, 364. No more shall nation, 398. None without hope, 256, 316. Next stood hypocrisy, 262. No more shall trenching, 617. Nor are the ways, 30. Next these a youthful, 152. No more the mounting, 76. Nor are we ignorant, 698. Next, to secure our camp, 614. No more the rising, 354. Nor at first sight, 318. Next to the Son, 444. No more the streams, 368. Nor awful PhobuS, 476. Next to thee, 579. No more these scenes, 343. Nor ballad-singer, 479. Nice-finger'd art, 72. No more to fabled, 642. Nor be with all these, 553. Nigh at hand, 43. No mortal tongue, 63. Nor box nor lines, 568. Night brings out stars, 582. No mdffling clouds, 223. Nor can his blessed soul, 459. Night is fled, 379- No muse hath been, 464. Nor can imagination guess, 266. Night is the time, 378, 427. No natural exhalation, 374. Nor can my strength, 426. Night, not now, 378. No ws of Phyl, 88. Nor can the grovelling, 351. Night, sable goddess, 380. No ight is now, 89. Nor can the skilful, 36. Night shades the groves, 76. No, no; unsparing, 556. Nor can the snow, 20. Night wanes, 355s. No, not all these, 490. Nor can the sun, 537. Night's silent reign, 377. No 4ne foretells, 343. Nor can this be, 290. Nile hears him, 454. No Dne hastens home, 589. Nor canst, nor durst thou, 251. Nilus opens wide, 454. No ne is so accursed, 140. Nor cherish'd they, 423. Nine things to sight, 164. No 1articular scandal, 462. Nor could his acts, 234. No adulation, 188. No ]egasus could, 411. Nor could the tender, 112. No Aurengzebe, 311. No place so sacred, 197. Nor custom, nor example, 122. No bandit fierce, o103. No plots th' alarm, 450. Nor deeper verdure, 273. No bird but did, 79. No plough shall hurt, 26. Nor did my search of liberty, 237. No blazing beacons cast, 6i2. No poet ever, 414. Nor did there want, 463. No blood-stain'd victory, 607. No poignant sauce, 183. Nor did we fail, 104. No blown ambition, 35. No prisoners there, I33. Nor do the boldest, 53I. No briny tear has, 55I. No radiant pearl, 542, 547. Nor do those ills, 417. No care of justice, 120. No rag, no scrap, 57, 651. Nor doth he dedicate, 379. No carping critic, 1ii6. No rebel Titan's, 443. Nor doth the eye itself, 165. No ceremony, 350. No rich perfumes, 193. Nor drain I ponds, 39. No choice was left, 287. No sense the precious, I02. Nor envies when, 276. No chymist yet, 342. No sideboards then, 182. Nor ever hope, 94. No commentator can, 98. No silver saints, 98. Nor fame I slight, I73. No common object, 396. No simple word, 183. Nor flight was left, 140. No conquests the, 673. No single virtue, 666. Nor from his patrimonial, 382. No courts created yet, 289. No sooner were, 485. Nor God alone, 223. No crazed brain, 400. No spring or summer's, 59, 223. Nor gradual bloom, 195. No creature smarts, 196. No sports but what, 609. Nor happiness can I, 204. No date prefix'd, 46. No star appears, 5i6. Nor heav'n peep through, 247. No declining age, 411. No stately larch-tree, 571. Nor holds this earth, 224. No door was there, 483. No statue in his favour, 291. Nor in a secret, 337. INVDEX OF FIRST LINES. 76i Nor is, indeed, 470. Not much he kens, 308, 663. Now hats fly off, 88. Nor is it hard, 2I5. Not Neptune's self, 384. Now hawthorns blossom, I93. Nor is my flame, 309. Not numerous are, 305. Now he exacts of all, 294. Nor is the profit, 29. Not our admission, 228. Now he goes on, io6. Nor is't unwholesome, 29. Not pedant's motley tongue, 288. Now, heart, 246. Nor Ikept his fate, 406. Not sharp revenge, ioo, 447. Now Heaven seems, 522. Nor knew I not, 207. Not she with trait'rous, 662. Now honey-dews, 357. Nor let false friends, 48. Not Sirius shoots, 516. Now I believe tradition, 662. Nor lose the good, 227. Not sleep itself, 491. Now I see thy jolly, 640. Nor love his peace, 59. Not sleeping, 427. Now if'tis chiefly, 1io. Nor might nor greatness, 480. Not so sick, 276, 490o. Now in contiguous, 439. Nor must all shoots, 2i4. Not so strictly, 284. Now, in such exigencies, 621. Nor Nature's law, i33. Not so, when diadem'd, i6i. Now is the pleasant time, 16i. Nor need they fear, 73. Not that I'd lop, Ii9. Now is the time ofhelp, 6t6. Nor need we tell, 269. Not that my quill, i:7. Now is the time of night, 51. Nor number nor example, 584. Not that my verse, 644. Now Jove suspends, 239. Nor, on its slender, 2t5. Not that their pleasures, 242. Now learn the diff'rence, 592. Nor ought a genius, 562. Not that we think, 183. Now learn what mortal, II7. Nor pass unpraised, 250. Not that which justly gives, 248. Now leave these joys, 21. Nor pray'rs nor fasts, 427. Not the desk, 530. Now let me graff, 223. Nor seek to know, 288. Not the fair fruit, 2t5. Now let us leave, 359. Nor set thy heart, 326. Not the hack'd helmet, I50. Now like a lawyer, 294. Nor shall I count it heinous, 252. Not thicker billows, 609. Now lock my chamber doors, 657. Nor shall the sacred, 28i. Not tied to rules, 452. Now, lords, ifheav'n, 6s6. Nor shall this blood, 253. Not to be shook, 385. Now love is dwindled, 342. Nor shall we need, 247. Not t'have written, 265. Now low'ring looks, 312. Nor should my praises, 70. Not to understand, 124, 363. Now luck for us, 144. Nor should their age, 23. Not tyrants fierce, I52, 595. Now, Mars, she said, I74, 6t5. Nor silence is within, 383. Not Tyro, nor Mycene, 273. Now may'rs and shrieves, 148. Nor stand so much, 36. Not unappeased, 45t.'Now minutely revolts, 270. Nor stony tower, 5Io. Not warp'd by passion, 92. Now morn her rosy steps, 357. Nor tell me, in a, 353- Not when a gilt, 269. Now morn with song, 357. Nor that is not the lark, 78. Not with more glories, 538. Now my sick fool, 89. Nor the night raven, 80. Not with such majesty, 40Io. Now nearer to the, io8. Nor then the solemn, 75. Not write! but then, 487. Now night descending, 52. Nor think superfluous, 598. Not youthful kings, 28i. Now night in silent, 376. Nor thinik though men, 33I. Nothing but a blank, 30I. Now no more the drum, 398, 6I3. Nor think to die, I32. Nothing but love, 394. Now, now she meets you, 237. Nor think to-night, i96. Nothing but the name, 725. Now o'er one half, 489. Nor this nor that, 327. Nothing can or shall, 340. Now on the wings, 384. Nor trumpets summon, 6ii. Nothing can we call, i34. Now on their coasts, 469. Nor undelightfll, 200. Nothing could make, i62. Now one joy, 32I. Nor urged the labours, 416. Nothing exceeds in ridicule, I77, 197. Now pass'd, on either side, 226. Nor virtue, wit, or beauty, 124. Nothing goes for sense, 399. Now past for me, 721. Nor walk by moon, 518. Nothing in his life, 236. Now private pity, i56. Nor wanted tuneful, 365. Nothing is here for tears, I42. Now purple hangings, 183. Nor wanting power, 366. Nothing is to man, 666. Now rising fortune, 204. Nor was the work, 540. Nothing profits more, 30. Now scantier limits, 456. Nor were those blust'ring, 522. Nothing resembles death, 483. Now secretly with, 23I. Nor when cold, 642. Nothing reserved, 334. Now see that noble, 267, 442. Nor will I thee, 413. Nothing so sweete, 395. Now shall the ocean, 385. Nor will I wretched, I27. Nothing so true, 673. Now shaves with level, 75. Nor will the light, I30. Nothing teems, 32, 220o. Now shine these planets, 5I9. Nor will the raging, 402. Notwithstanding all, 322. Now show the wound, I66. Nor will the wither'd, 569. Nought so vile, I55. Now sleeping flocks, 354. Nor with envenom'd, 480. Nought shall the psalt'ry, 233. Now sliding streams, 293, 594. Nor with the rising, 470. Nought's had, all's spent, 103. Now spread the night, 485. Nor word for word, 562. Novel lays attract, 368. Now sunk the sun, 378. Nor would, for gold, 279. Now, 269. Now that God and friends, 292. Nor would you find it easy, 257. Now a sea, 474. Now that the fields, 204. Not a courtier, 263. Now all labour, 285. Now that the first wild, 630. Not all her arts, 326. Now all nature, 8i. Now that the winter's, 5ii. Not all her od'rous, 547. Now Aurora, 359. Now the bright, 359. Not all so cheerful, 40. Now black and deep, 380. Now the cleft rind, 575. Not all that heralds, 234. Now came still evening, i6i. Now the dew, 285. Not all the books, 020. Now cheaply bought, 84. Now the latter watch, 484. Not all the fleecy, 467. Now comes the herald, 638. Now the sappy boughs, 375. Not all the glory, ioo. Now comes the sick, 212. Noy the soft hour, 590. Not alone, while thou, 358. Now conscience wakes, ioo. Now the sprightly trumpet, 609. Not always actions, 332. Now, Curll his shop, 54. Now the summer's, 535. Not balmy sleep, 487. Now cursed steel, 223. Now the young soul, 703. Not bubbling fountains, 318. Now day is done, i62. Now then be all, 398. Not chaos-like, 386. Now down with the grass, 33. Now then the ills, 20. Not content to see, 58. Now enters overweening, 462. Now they never meet, 520. Not Cynthia, 239. Now fades the glimmering, 588. Now they who reach, i9g. Not Eastern mconarchs, i89. Now fair Phoebus, 54I. Now through rushing, 573. Not fabled Po, 456. Now for the bare-pick'd, 616. Now through the land, 429. Not far from hence, 5i6. Now forced to overflow, 552. Now Time has fled, 558. Not from experience, i63. Now gall is bitter, 319. Now times are changed, 52. Not from grey hairs, 20. Now'gan his heart, 5o3. Now warm in love, 328. Not from the dust, 505. Now'gan the gdlden Phcebus, i62. Now wasting years, 2o% 659. Not half so swift, 76, i8i. Now glow'd, 354. Now went forth, 358. Not he that chides, 95. Now go with me, 342. Now what could, 433. Not heath-pout, i83. Now God be praised, 170, 612. Now when that idle, r49. Not helping, death's, 236. Now golden frnits, 215. Now when the rosy, 356Not less their number, 76. Now, good Cesario, 500. Now while the heav'n, 358. Not love thy life, 302. Now good digestion, 186. Now will together, 436. Not many lives, 299. Now guilt once harbour'd, Ioo. Now will we revel it, I53. Not more almighty, 643. Now happy he whose, 523. Now, with fine phrase, I57. 762 INDEX OF FEIRST LINES. Now you will all be wits, I43. O impudent! regardful of, 465. O think! think, 349. Numb'ring of his virtues', 596. O, it came o'er my ear, 194. O think what, 442. Numerous sails, IO9. O! it is beautiful, 687. O thou! by whose, 397. Nuptials of form, 338. O jealousy, each other, 272. O thou, that dost inhabit, 18, 323. Nurse the saplings tall, 574. O Juliet, I already, 233. O thou, that, with, 539. Nymphs and shepherds, 456. O knew he but, Io9. O thou, too great, 49. Tynyphs of Mulla, 39. 0 last and best of Scots, 206. O thou! whatever title, 52.. O lavish land, 466. O thou who driest, 363, 50o, 548. O leave the noisy town, io6. O thou, who freest me, 179. 0. O let thy presence, go. O Time! than gold, 561. O liberty! thou goddess, 298. O Time! the fatal wrack, 555. O, all my hopes, I3I. O Life! how pleasant, 705. O Time, who know'st, 555. O be sick, 23I. O life, thou nothing's, 300. O'tis the course of love, 323. O blest retirement, ro6. O Light! which mak'st, 305. O! too convincing, 546. O born to soothe, 66i. O loose this from, I29. O, true descendant, 396. O Brackenbury, ioI. O Lord! methought, 154, 475. O truth divine, 582. O brave poets, 412. O! lost to virtue, 499. O turn thy rudder, 524. O blissful poverty, 422. O love! for Sylvia, i65. O Twilight! Spirit that does, 589. O call not to this, 83. O love! how are thy, 320. O Tyburn, could'st thou, 275. O Castalio, 3I7. O love! thou sternly, 3I2. O vain to seek, 35. O ceremony, 23I. O luxury! thou cursed, 330. O virtue! virtue, 596, 6oi. O charming youth, 708. O madness, to think, 269. O visions ill foreseen, 218. O cleave, my sides, 246. O magic sleep, 486. 0, Warwick, I do bend, 605. O conscience, Ioo. O man! have mind, I37. O wasteful riot, i85. O conspiracy, 102. O man! while in thy, 705. O, we do all offend, 338. O could I flow, 454. O many a shaft, 480. O what a confluence, 520. O! coutldst thou break, I56. O Marcia, let me hope, 6i. O what a tangled, 139. O coward conscience, ioi. O Marcia, O my sister, 254. O! what happiness, 2I3. O cruel death, 138. O marriage! marriage, 338. O whither shall I run, 264. O cursed love of gold, 59. O may thy. pow'r, I98. O who does know, 677. O day most calm, 459. O memory! thou fond, 347. O! why did God, 670. O days remember'd, 347. O, mickle is the, 343. O why do wretched men, 305. O deaf to nature, 533. 0, might I here, 497. O Wisdom! from the sea, 643. O Death ) all eloquent, 132. O, mighty brother, 509. O wisdom! if thy, 642. O Death! the poor man's, 123. O mighty love, 3I8. O woman, 668. O deign to visit, I99. O momentary grace, 34, 227. O woman! best of all, 67I. O diadem, 33. O mortals! blind il fate, 202. O woman! in our hours, 675. O early ripe! to thy, 709. O mutrth'rous slumber, 489. O woman, lovely, 672. O earth! I will, 439. O Music! sphere-descended, 364. O Woman! Woman, 662. O Earth, so full, 654. O my life! my wife, 633. O wondrous change, 91. O fact unparallel'd, 46. O my poor kingdom; 420. O woods, O fountains, 499. O fairest of all creatures, 667. O mysterious night, 376. O World! so few, 693. O fairest of creation, 670. O nation miserable, 59I. O world! thy slippery, 212. O fatal maid, 337. O nature, 375. O ye immortal, 48i. O fatal search, 386. O nature, how in, 372. O ye mtuses, 49. O father abbot, 93. O night, when good, 376. O ye Pegasian, 5I2. O father! can it be, 125. O nightingale, that on, 75, 3i6. Oaths were not purposed, 287,;.9 O fertile head, 284. O noble English, 62. Obscure they went, 125. O fields, O woods, I05. O nymph! who lov'st, 542. Obscure! why prythee, 36. O fleeting joys, 274. O, our lives' sweetness, 134, 304. Observant of approaching, 36I O flow'rs, I92. O pity and shame, 302. Observe, 435. O for a muse of fire, I45, 270, 4II. O place and greatness, 231. Observe the wretch, i69. O for that warning voice, 247. O polish'd perturbation, 488. Observe those numerous, 474. O fortunate young man, 412. 0 queen, farewell, 348. Observe what stars, 516. O fortune! thou art not, 202. O queen! indulged by, 289. Obstinately bent, 128. O frail estate, 30I, 592. O race divine, 64. Odious! in woollen, I52. O freedom! first delight, 206. O reader, hast thou ever, 578. O'er golden sands, 576. O gentle sleep, 485, 490. O reason! once again, 427. O'er his ample sides, 58o. O gentlemen, the time, 304. O Rosalind, these trees, 85. O'er nature's laws, 49. 0, give, great God, 207. O sacred rest, 484. O'er sandy wilds, 32. O give me back, 700. O sacred solitude, 499. O'er the Elean plains, 258. O God! forgive my sins, 478. O seek not to, 447. O'er the glad waters, 38I. O God! if my deep, 428. O serpent heart, hid with a, 263. O'er the smooth, 286. O goddess, say, shall I, 40. O, she doth teach, 68. O'er whom Time, 21. O goodness! that shall, 225. O sleep! it is a gentle, 482. O'er yonder eastern, 355. O grant me, heav'n, I03. O Solitude, romantic, 497. O'er yonder hill, 357. O greatly bless'd, 22I. O solitude! where are, 497. O'ercanopied with luscious, 458. O happiness: our being's, 243. O Sorrow, cruel fellowship, 504. Of aery tongues, 542. O happy if ye know, Io8. O Sorrow, wilt thou rule, 504. Of Age's avarice, 20. O happy unown'd youths, 96. O souls in whom, 509. Of airy pomp, 691. O happy youth, 87. O Spirit land, 147. Of all affliction, 20I. O hard condition, 23I. O spirit of love, 322. Of all bad things, 38. O he sits high, 42I. O Spring, thou fairest, 5I4. Of all her dears, 480. O heavens, 24. O stretch thy rein, 206. Of all our eldest, I45. O heavens! can you hear, 99. O summer friendship, 209. Of all that since, 383. O help thou my weak, 652. O swear not by the, 355. Of all the causes, 43I. O hope! sweet flatterer, 255. O that, as oft I have, I44. Of all the great, 230. O how canst thou, Io5. O, that deceit'should dwell, I39. Of all the grief, 272. O how feeble, 202. O that estates, 252. Of all the joys, 96. O how much more, 586. O that I had, 267. Of all the passions, 35. O how short, 303. O that I less could, I28. Of all the servile herd, I84. O how the passions, 39I. O that men's ears, i88. Of all the thoughts, 482. O how this spring, 325. O that mny tongue, 392. Of all the trees, 574. O, how thy worth, 699. O that the chemist's, 549. Of all the tyrants, 59I. O, I am yet, 416. O that those lips, 387. Of all the ways, 46I. O, I have past, I49. O the dark days, 409. Of all these bounds, 108, 200. O, if this were seen, 304. O then to young Love, 715. Of all those arts, 530, 642. O ignorant poor man, 33I. O then, what interest, 123. Of all virtues, 279. O impotent estate, 303. O thievish night, 377. Of all your knowledge, 283. IZNDEX OF FIRST LJNES. 763 Of ancient prudence, 420. Oh, could I see, ro8. Oh, War! thou hast, 6I5. Of ancient streams, 525. Oh, could I worship, 298. Oh! weep for those, 622. Of ancient writ, 40. Oh, could we do with, 694. Oh, weep not for the dead, 622. Of barley the finest, 33. Oh! couldst thou but, I7. Oh, were I made, 76. Of beauty sing, 65. Oh counterpart, 667. Oh, what a timid, 547. Of beauty sing, her shining, 65. Oh, cursed, troubled, 690. Oh! what is man, 330. Of both our fortunes, 433. Oh, don't go in to-night, 626. Oh! what makes woman, 662. Of carps and mullets, 087. Oh! enviable early days, 705. Oh, what may man, 263. Of close escapes, 376. Oh i ever thus from, 256, 717. Oh! what was love, 306. Of crowds afraid, 5oi. Oh, fear not in, 532. Oh, when a mother, 97. Of elements, 383. Oh, first of human, 399. Oh, where do fairies, 634. Of evening tinct, i62. Oh for a lodge, 497, 699. Oh! wherefore dost thou, g9o. Of ev'ry nation, 071. Oh for the robes of whiteness, 55x. Oh, who call hold,,264. Of every sort, 095. Oh form, 335. Oh, who can tell, 382. Of famous cities, 458. Oh! Fortune! how, 656. Oh! who that has ever, 5o. Of fellowship i speak, 339. Oh friendly to the best, oo6. Oh! who the exquisite, 543. Of fickle changelings, 9I. Oh! friends regretted, 346. Oh, Woman! how, 665. Of fools the world, 096. Oh, great restorer, 044. Oh, woman's love, 664. Of formal duty, 054. Oh! had the monster, 369. Oh! wouldst thou set, 699. Of gentle blood, 709. Oh! had we never, 307. Oh ye who teach, 055. Of good and evil, 392, 400oo. Oh! hadst thou never, 626. Oh, Youth! for years, 707. Of graduates, 403. Oh! happiness of sweet, 102. Old age, with silent pace, 20. Of heat and light, 536. Oh happy shades, 655. Old as I am, 63. Of himself is none, 222. Oh, happy you, 218. Old clients, wearied out, 294. Of honour void, 252. Oh, happy youth, 708. Old fashions are, 6io. Ofjoys departed, 346. Oh, hateful error, 346. Old fond eyes, 624. Of light the greater part, 539. Oh, he was all made, 94, 306. Old husbandmen, 20. Of man, who dares, 332. Oh heav'n-born sisters, 599. Old politicians chew, 408. Of manners gentle, i6o, 335- Oh, how impatience, 274. Old prophecies foretell, 208. Of marble stone, 464. Oh, how much more, 68. Old Rome from such, 690. Of mortal justice, 279. Oh! I will hearken, 96. Old Salisbury, shame, 240. Of my heart, 303. Oh! if there be, 306. Old stakes of olive-trees, 569. Of my land, 293. Oh, if there were one, 544. Old Time has dimm'd, 631. Of night impatient, 376, 386. Oh, if thou lovest, 669. Old'Time, who changes, 557Of night or loneliness, 377. Oh! if to dance, 23, I51. Old Winter halting, 636. Of no distemper, 20. Oh, if venerable, 556. Old Winter is coming, 639. Of old those met, 424. Oh! it would please, 69. Old wood to burn, 83. Of plain sound sense, 466. Oh jealousy! thou bane, 271. Omission to do what, 432. Of praise a mere glutton, 423. Oh, lasting as those, 388. On a bank, 232. Of simples in these, 402. Oh, leave this barren, 567. On a green shady, 292. Of singing thou hast, 500. Oh let me live, 300. On a neighb'ring tree, 203. Of sleep forsaken, 485. Oh! let not tears, 229. On a short pruning-hook, 27. Of softest manners, 335. Oh! life is a waste, 466. On adamant our wrongs, 265. Of talismans and sigils, 46. Oh, lightly, lightly tread, 485. On bed, 493. Of that skill, 670. Oh! Love, first love, 634. On better thoughts, 441. Of the same soil, 26. Oh, Love! what is there, 307. On death and judgment, 122. Of those few, 4T2. Oh, man may bear, 679. On death-beds some, 038. Of those stars which, 5i8. Oh, many a dream, 476. On each hand, 286,620. Of wars and bloodshed, 6io. Oh, many a shaft, 685. On every thorn, 0og, 154. Of worse deeds, 532. Oh, may some spark, 400. On flow'rs reposed, 092. Off with that wiery coronet, 236. Oh, monstrous, 334. Os her head, 273. Oft, as in airy rings, 76. Oh name forever, 549. On high-raised decks, 469. Oft did the harvest, 245. Oh never may, 329.. On his bold visage, 23. Oft expectation fails, 257. Oh! o'er the eye, 064. On his fiery steed, 258. Oft in bands, 37. Oh i only thou, 305. On his left hand, 73. Oft in her absence, 047. Oh pass not, Lord, 207. On human actions, 332. Oft in her glass, 0o7. Oh, Portius, is there, 565. On Leven's banks, 457. Oft in pleasing, 535. Oh! rather give me, II4. On life's vast ocean, 392, 440. Oft in the passions, 392. Oh, richly fell, 238. On me when dunces, 460. Oft in the siren, 096. Oh i sacred weapon, 460. On morning wings, 359. Oft in the stilly night, 348, 707~ Oh, say, does the cottage, 708. On old Hyem's, 640. Oft leaving what is, 57. Oh, she doth teach, 676. On parent knees, 96. Oft listening how, 358. Oh, she is, 335. On Prague's proud arch, 607. Oft on a plat, i62. Oh, she is fairer, 65. On seas, on earth, 477. Oft pitying God, 405. Oh! solitude! first state, 496. Oni sev'ral parts, 64. Oft the drudging ass, 27. Oh! that a dream, 307. On such a blessed, 354. Oft the hours, 0o3. Oh that I could, 5oi. On that grave drop, 622. Oft their aid, 529. Oh that men should put, 270. On the cold earth, 280. Oft till the star, 5:7. Oh that my spirit's, 493. On the green bank, 478. Oft, too, when that, 03I. Oh that simplicity, 698. On the seas, 472. Oft we enhance, 658. Oh that the artist's, 707. On the smooth expanse, 063. Oft when blind mortals, 83. Oh that the desert, 496. On the smooth rind, 570. Oft wide of nature, 53I. Oh that this too, 533. On the strait course, 470. Oft with some favour'd, 563. Oh that those lips, 362. Oni the tawny sands, 067. Often have I scaled, 8o. Oh! the joy, 717. On the world's stage, I43. Often oir seers, 369. Oh! the tender ties, 505. On their exalted, 364. Often thle clouds, 663. Oh, then the longest, 242, On their life, 300. Often to our comfort, 77. Oh! there are looks, 243. On their-own axes, 509. Oft-times nothing profits, 339, 465~ Oh, there are moments, 655. On their own merits, 353. Oh, a dainty plant, 568. Oh! there's nothing, 306. On thy calm joys, 249. Oh! a wonderfdul stream, 56o. Oh, these flaws, 640. On thy chin, 333. Oh! ask not, 543. Oh! think what, 425. On thy foot thou stood'st, 96. Oh, beautifil as morning, 664. Oh! those are tears, 390. On what strange ground, 300. Oh! bless'd with temper, 226, 674. Oh! thoubest comforter, 493. On winter seas, 637. Oh! blest of heaven, ios. Oh, thou shalt be, 307. On you, most loved, 433. Oh, bravely came we off, 66. Oh, thoughtless mortals, 279. On your family's, 2I7. Oh, can your counsel, 14I. Oh, time was young, 700. One day, I think, 564. Oh, colder than the wind, 039, 306. Oh tyrant love, 307. One dip the pencil, 368. Oh conscience! conscience, 99. Oh undistinguish'd, 676. One doth not know, 685. 764 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. One fatal remembrance, 348, 50I. Or whether more, 462. Our sword so wholly, 6i, 126. One good deed, 225, 424. Or who would ever, 425. Our time consumes, 560. One grateful woman, 228. Orante's barque, 474. Our time is fix'd, 532. One half-pint bottle, i85. Orators may grieve, 385. Our toils, my friends, 53I. One hates an author, 55. Orestes' bulky rage, 48. Our understanding traces, 440. One judges as the weather, 120. Orphans around his bed, 296. Our unsteady actions, 400. One lilac only, 57I. Orpheus could lead, 365. Our vanquish'd wills, 299. One loving hour, 327. Orpheus' lute was, 369. Our very hopes, 129. One Michael Cassio, 6i6. Orpheus' self may heave, 367. Our virtues, 630. One only care, 670. Orpheus with his lute, 369. Our waking dreams, 250. One only couplet, 554. Others apart sat, 179, 207. Our wealth leaves us, 6os. One part, one little part, 434. Others believe no voice, 294. Our wedding cheer, 88. One passion, with 0, 393. Others by guilty artifice, 44. Our wise forefathers, 652. One rally of a hero's, 6fi. Others for language, 529. Our wit is given, 508. One rising, eminent, 278. Others ill-fated, 303. Our works are naught, 582. One says, he never, 288. Others import yet nobler, 121. Our yesterday's to-morrow, 56i. One science only, 226. Others in virtue, 400, 598~ Ours are no hirelings, 495. One seed for another, 32. Others may use, 385. Out upon it, 328. One shall rise, 34. Others, more mild, 37. Over an ancient.scroll, 527. One she found, 311. Others that affect, 530. Over him, art striving, 220. One-simile that, 530. Others will gape, I77. Over his lucid arms, i5i. One sip of this, 148. Others with wistful, 86. Overhead upgrew, 574. One sole desire, 45I. Otway fail'd to polish, 52. Owls, that mark, 73. One son at home, 255. Our ardent labours, 285. One struggle more, 390. Our armours now, 6og09. One summer's eve, i6i. Our army is dispersed, 617. P. One sun by day, 542. Our author, 144. One that has newly, 96. Our bane and physic, 458. Pacing through the forest, 200. One that to bounty, 254. Our battle is more full, 62. Pains of love, 310. One thinks the soul, 507. Our best beloved, 6o6. Painted for sight, 276. One thought content, 102. Our best notes, I72. Painting is welcome, 388. One thought the sex's, 337. Our birth is but a sleep, 724. Pale death our leader, 228. One to destroy, 629. Our bugles sang truce, 608. Pale Memory's favour'd child, 590. One tragic sentence, 28. Our cage, 77. Pale priInroses, I94. One vague inflection, 682. Our careful monarch, 608. Palesuns, unfelt, 540. One whom the music, 99, 370- Our cheerful guests, 89. Pales no longer swell'd, 26. One, whose drought, 525. Our chilling climate, 58. Palinurus cried aloud, 522. * One whose extraction, 36, 43. Our coronation done, 282. Pallas, piteous of her, 488. One whose eyes, 5o50. Our country sinks, 397. Pallas pour'd sweet, 248. One word is too often, 685. Our court shall be, 44. Pardon a weak, 391. One world sufficed not, 33. Our dame sits cow'ring, 373. Part in peace, 447. One year is past, 137. Our days had begun, 637. Part stay for passage, 479. Once I was skill'd, I93. Our discontented counties, 443. Part wield their arms, 259. Onie more the fleeting, 5o8. Our doubts are traitors, 143. Pass but some fleeting, t65. Once on a time, iiS. Our dress, still varying, 152. Passion and pride, 598. Once (says an author, 291. Our drooping days, I37. Passion can depress, 392; Once upon a midnight, 527. Our fathers bent, 416. Passion unpitied, 307. Once, we confess, 396. Our fathers did, 9i. Passions are liken'd, 392. Only a sweet, 509. Our fathers next, 41. Passions, thotgh selfish, 392. Only add, 93. Our foe's too proud, 142. Past hope of safety, 126. Only they, I45. Our foster-nurse, 488. Past sorrows, let us, 505. Open the gate, 350. Our friends are as true, 249. Patience and sorrow, 394. Open, ye heavens, I22. Our grave, i6o. Patience herself, 395. Opposed to her, 407. Our greatest good, 254. Patience in cowards, 394. Oppress'd nature sleeps, 489. Our green youth copies, 2i. Patience in want, 394. Oppress'd withgrief, 231. Our guardian angel, 178. Patience is more, 394. Or as a lute, 364. Our heroes of the former, 248. Patience, unmoved, 394. Or by the vocal, 499. Our homespun authors, 46. Patient of thirst, 395. Or call the winds, 98. Our humble province, 152, 673. Patient permit, 548. Or come your shipping, 469. Our indiscretion sometimes, 435. Patriots, in peace, 395. Or great Osiris, 31. Our jovial star, 46. Peace, 398. Or, if I would take care, 88. Our judges, like our laws, 275. Peace, brother, 218. Or if that surly, 346. Our law, that did, 290. Peace, good reader, 356. Or if the earlier, 33. Our life is niothing, 303. Peace o'er the world, 398. Or, if they serve you, 59I. Our life so fast, 300o. Peace to the True Man's ashes, 583. Or if too busily, 609. Our lives reform'd, 220, 53I. Peace to thy gentle, 532. Or is thy bagpipe, 371. Our meeting hearts, 340. Peace, which he loved, 594. Or lead me through, 215. Our men secure, 484. Peaceful sleep out, 460. Or likest hovering, 247. Our nature here, 20. Penelope, for her, 327. Or lose her heart, 673. Our natures do, 374. Pensions in private, 396. Or many grateful, 348. Our old solemnities, 540. Pent to linger, 350. Or march'd I chain'd, 615. Our own precedent, 720. Perform'd what friendship, 212. Or nature fail'd, 373. Our pains are real, 386. Perhaps a fever, 342. Or object new, 104. Our penal laws, 289. Perhaps for want of, 507. Or, quick effluvia, 458. Our phtenix queen, 64. Perhaps something, 351. Or rob the Roman, 419. Our plenteous streams, 39, 187. Perhaps the jest, 272. Or should she, confident, 66. Our poet may, I43. Perhaps there's nothing, 496. Or so much as it needs, 594. Our poet thinks not, 65o. Perhaps this cruel, 433. Or sporting with, I87. Our pray'rs are heard, 472. Perhaps thy fortune, 522. Or sweetest Shakspeare, 50. Our present lot, 658. Permit our ships, 469. Or sympathy, or some, 543. Our reason prompts us, 218. Permitted oft, though, 566. Or that eternal, 421. Our scene precariously, 144. Pernicious flatt'ry, u88. Or the saddle, 290. Our sensibilities are so, 203, 334. Perpetual anguish, 40. Or touch, if tremblingly, 25. Our sins, like to, 478. Perseverance, 399. Or ti'uth, divinely breaking, 586. Our souls at least, 207. Perverse mankind, 208. Or wafting ginger, 269. Our souls but like, 5o6. Philips, whose touch, 259. Or what the cross, 517. Our souls, not yet, 508. Philomela's liberty, 75. Or what, though rare, 244. Our sumnimer such, 534. Philosophy consists not, 4oT. Or where the gorgeous, 224. Our supple tribes, 396. Philosophy, that touch'd, 401. INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 765 Phoebe doth behold, 360. Praise of great acts, 424. Rare poems and rare, 462. Phoebus' steeds are, 36o. Praise of the wise, 423. Rarely they rise, 422. Phyllis, who but a month, ao5. Praise with timbrels, 369. Rash Elpenor, 269. Physic can but mend, 342. Praise with trumpets, 369. Rash man, forbear, 224. Physic is their bane, 404. Praising what is lost, 425. Rather let my head, 427. Physicians mend or end us, 403. Pray but for half, 629. Rather see the wonders, 564. Physicians with their milky, 404. Pray, pray, thou, 622. Rather than not, 452. Pindar's unnavigable song, 47. Prayer ardent, 429. Reach the Almighty's, 222. Pit, box, and gall'ry, 244. Prayer is the burden, 548. Read all the prefaces of Dryden, I20. Pitchy and darlc, 378. Prepare for rhyme, 460. Read Homer once, 54. Pithless arms, like, 577. Prepared I stand, 332, 532. Read o'er the volume, 68. Pity and he are one, 201. Preposterous ass, 369. Real glory, 222. Pity is sworn, 405. Present fears, 264. Reap well, scatter not, 33..Pity is the virtue, 293. Present to grasp, 218. Reaping immortal, 497. Pity only on fresh, 406. Press bravely onward, 728. Reason, however able, 44I. Placed on this isthmus, 645. Press'd with the pond'rous, 474. Reason, not impossibly, 44I. Plain Goody would, 253. Prest with heart-corroding, 232. Reason our guide, 540. Plain sense, which pleased, 466. Pride hath no other, 432. Reason, remembrance, 270. Plant it round, 229. Pride in their port, 43I. Reason! the hoary dotard's, 442. Plant ye with alders, 32. Pride may cool, 208. Reason thus with reason, 324. Plate sin with gold, 224, 279. Pride (of all others, 432. Reason was given, 440. Play that sad note, 369. Pride often guides, 528. Reason's progressive, 442. Playful blushes that seem'd, 83. Pride push'd forth buds, 43t. Reason's whole pleasure, 245. Plays in themselves, I44. Pride then was not, 432. Rebellion in this land, 443. Plays round the head, ioI. "Pride was not made," 432. Recall those nights, 52. Plead it to her, I56, 2;8. Pride, where wit fails, 432. Recall your gift, 30o. Plead, when the tempter's, 553. Priest, spare thy words, 447. Receive the shipwreck'd, 260. Pleads, in exception, s96. Priests are patterns, 430. Red lightnings play'd, 521. Please that sylvan scene, 285. Prime cheerer, light, 306. Red sheets of lightning, 474. Please thy pride, 36. Princes have but, 282. Reduce, my muse, 544. Please you, we may contrive, 89. Princes that fly,.679. Regard of worldly muck, 60. Pleased in the silent, 424. Princes that would, 282. Reject the nauseous, 412. Pleased with a work, 65I. Proceed by process, 292. Relate, if business, 383. Pleased with his idol, 3II. Procrastination is the thief, 239, 56i. Religion stands on, 446. Pleasure and revenge, 408. Produce the grand, 478. Religious men, 429. Pleasure enchants, 55o. Promise of youth, 704. Rely on what, 598. Pleasure has been, 407. Prompt eloquence, 157. Remain'd to our almighty, 613. Pleasure that comes, 408. Pronounce him blest, 647. Remember all his virtues, 595. Pleasure with instruction, 407. Property, you see it alter, 295. Remember him, the villain, 443. Pleasures are few, 408. Prophesying, will, 659. Remember Milo's end, 133. Pleasures, or wrong, 408. Propitious gales, 47I. Remember, O my friends, 287. Pleasures which nowhere, 407. Propitious Tiber, 454. Remember, sir, your fury, 629. Plough Monday next after, 32. Propp'd on his staff, 23. Remember thatthe cursed, 284. Pluck down my officers, 292. Prosperity, inviting, 434. Remember thee, 349. Pluck up thy spirits, 94. Prosperity puts out, 434. Remembrance wakes, 347, 657. Plutarch, that writes, 52. Prosperity's the very bond, 323. Remorse for vice, 447. Poet and saint, 422. Proud fame's imperial, I73. Remorse is as the, 447. Poetic fields, 409. Proud Italy, 335. Remote from man, 427. Poets, a race long, 227. Providence, not niggardly, 434. Remote thou hear'st, 6I3. Poets alone found, 460. Prudence protects, 653. Remote, unfriended, 455. Poets are limners, 423. Prudence, thou vainly, 22, 436. Renew'd to life, 302. Poets have undoubted, 422. Prune the luxuriant, ii6. Renowned Spenser, 46. Poets, like lovers, 412. Pulpits their sacred, 430. Renowned Talbot doth expect, 566. Poets, like monarchs, 425. Pulse of all kinds, 29I. Repent the sin, 448. Poets, like painters, 424. Purblind man, 434. Repent you not, 448. Poets lose half, 414, 532. Purblind to poverty, I50. Repentance clothes, 449. Poets make characters, 92. Purchasing riches, 453. Repentance often, 448. Poets may boast, 425. Pure and unchanged, i6i. Repine not, 44I. Poets that lasting, 425. Pure clinches the, Ir5. Report of fashions, 276. Poets, the first, 424. Pure gurgling rills, 620. Repose you there, i0o. Poets themselves must fall, 232. Pure serenity apace, 202. Reprove not in their wrath, 448. Pointed satire, 462. Purest love's unwasting, 340. Reserve thy state, 277. Poise the cause, 279. Pursuit of fame, 275. Reserve with frankness, 673. Poison, I see, 235. Put him to choler, 38. Rest, sweet as dew-drops, 36i. Poor and content, 2o3. Put in their hands, 62. Rest to the limbs, 449. Poor Banckront, 557. Pygmalion then, 290. Restless anxiety, 89. Poor Brutus, with himself, 336. Pygmies are pygmies still, 60oi. "Restore the lock," 239. Poor child of danger, 473. Restore to God, 446. Poor clinches the suburban, 528. Restraining others, 206. Poor heart, 259. Q. " Retire, ny soul," So. Poor heretics in love, 309. Retiring full, 346. Poor human kind, 82. Quartos, octavos, shape, 84. Retreat betimes, 25. Poor little Pearl, 702. Quench Corydon, 314. Return, unhappy, 438. Poor, little, pretty, 76. Quiet night, 377. Returning, he proclaims, 562. Poor naked wretches, 423. Quintius here was horn, 26. Revenge, at first, 452. Poor painters oft, 389. Quit, quit, for shame, 328. Revenge impatient, 450. Poor poet ape, 650. Quite an extensive catalogue, 527. Revenge is lost, 450. Poor Robin sits, 635. Quoth Dick to Tom, 625. Revenge is now, 45I. Poor Vadius, long, 40. Quoth Hudibras, It is, 42. Revenge is sure, 451. Pope came off clean, 49. Quoth Hudibras, The stars, 45. Revenge succeeds, 392. Pope's filial piety excels, 54. Quoth she, Great grief, 234. Rev'rent I touch, 430. Poplars and alders, 575. Rhymer, come on, 452. Portius himself, 453. Rich crowns were on, 273. Possess'd with humours, i8i. R. Rich, fashionable robes, 176. Pour forth Britannia's, 607. Rich in the world's, 259. Powder thy radiant hair, 236. Raise her notes, Soo. Rich, racy verses, I24. Power above powers, i56. Ranged in a line, 259. Rich, thou hadst, 665. Practise them now, 259. Raptured he quits, 671. Rich was his sotul, 50. Praise him, each savage, 424. Rare are the buttons, 40. Rich with the spoils, 387. 766 INDEX OF FIRST LiVNES. Richer, than doing nothing, 253. Search for some, 554. Shakspeare, whom you, 52. Riches cannot rescue, 452. Search her cabinet, 313. Shall a woman's, 679. Riches endless, 423. Search not to find, 283. Shall freeborn men, 289. Riches, like insects, 453. Search then the ruling, 392. Shall funeral eloquence, 2I7. Ridotta sips, I21. Searching wits, 650. Shall I be left, 227. Right faithful, 46D. Seas are troubled, 382. Shall I go on, 433. Right well fought all, 726. Seas hid with navies, 382. Shall I in London, 57. Ripe age bade him, 22. Secrets of marriage, 338. Shall I mention, 383. Rise! for the day, 727. Secure from foolish, i88. Shall I own a strange, 7i6. Rising griefs, 654. Secure of death, I27. Shall I see the, 67I. Rising merit, 350. Secure of outward, 553. Shall I so much, 46. Rivers, arise, 455. Secure these golden, 709. Shall I, to please, 269. Rivers diverted, 456. See, and revere, 52I. Shall ignorance, 434. Rocks lie cover'd, 28. See by degrees, I65. Shall jealousy a pow'r, 27I. Rocks rich in gems, 273. See daily show'rs, 438. Shall man alone, 450. Roll on, thou deep,.382. See daisies open, 292. Shall man from nature's, 373. Rome's holydays, i86. See Dionysius Homer's, 5i. Shall nature, erring, 533.Room for my lord, 26i. See dying vegetables, 594. Shall our relics, i33. Root up wild olives, 29. See, from behind, 202. Shall poesy, like law, 286. Roscommon not more, 52. See! from the brake, 76. Shall the figure, 282. Rose, as in dance, 224. See heav'n its sparkling, I32. Shall this prize, 273. Rose I then, 657. See, how at once, 54I. Shall war o'er all the earth, 6o6. Rough from the tossing, 564. See how the morning, 359. Shall we now, 421. Rough satires, sly remarks, 46i. See how the rising, 536. Shall we play, 549. Rough unwieldy earth, 30. See how the world, 695. Shallow brooks that, 525. Round he surveys, 377. See how they beg, i89. Shame of change, 725. Round I saw, I07. See lofty Lebanon, i99.. Shames not to be, 222. Round the world we roam, 563. See Pan with flocks, 293. Sharp violins proclaim, 365. Round these, with tendrils, 86. See plastic nature, II3. Sharp-tasted citrons, 224. Rouse to some work, 728. See, sons, what things, 60. She a gentle tear let fall, 238. Roving the field, 215. See spicy clouds, 293. She, as a veil, 238. Ruddy his lips, 65. See that you come, 253. She, as her attendant, 92. Rude as their ships, 469. See the bold youth, 259. She ask'd the reason, 659. Rumour next, and chance, 443. See! the dapple gray, 357. She bears a duke's, I52. Russell's blood, 42I. See the monstrousness of man, 266. She bids me hope, 256. Russet-paced choughs, 77. See! the night wears, 359. She, bitter penance, 448. See the same man, 332. She blazons in dread, 493. See! the sole bliss, 82. She burns, she raves, 307. S. See the sweet hrooks, 285. She by whose lines, 63. See the tvins' humours, 48. She changed her state, 3II. Sad chance of war, 614. See their wide streaming, 3II. She comes majestic, 472. Safe in the love, 383. See then the acting, 268. She contains all bliss, 82. Safe on my shore, 32. See they sutiffer death, 286. She decently in form, 446. Safely I slept, 359. See thou how fresh, i95. She dictates to me, 487. Safety and equal government, 227. See what a grace, 68, 241. She doth display, 69. Sages and chiefs, 4I3. See what the charms, 374. She drops a doubtful, 27I. Sails were spread, 469. See where he comes, 6i5. She dwelt among,. 679. Saint Andre's feet, 48. See where it smokes, 554. She either from, 313. Salius then, exclaiming, 289. See where on earth, 293. She fair, divinely fair, 316. Sat full-blown Bufo, 50. See, winter comes, 64I. She first did wit's, 650. Sated with nature's boons, 182. See yon gay goldfinch, 74. She fumed the temples, 426. Satiety from all things, 300. Seedtime and harvest, 30. She gives her tongue, 546. Satire is no more, 462. Seeing the hurt stag, 222. She glares in balls, 276. Satire should, like, 46i. Seek not to know, 56i. She had all the regal, 398. Satire's my weapon, 462. Seek out for plants, 402. She half consents, 433. Save but our army, 624. Seek to be good, 670. She has laugh'd, 663. Save elms, ash, 580. Seeming devotion, 446. She hath prosperous art, Io04. Saved by spice, 40I. Seest not thilk hawthorn, 220. She held my hand, 433. Say, does your Christian, 728. Seize not my love, 296. She hurries all her handmaids, 237. Say, first, of God above, 446. Seized and tied, 277. She in pens his flocks, 27. Say, flatterer, say, i87. Seldom at church, 98. She interprets all, i47. Say from what sceptred, 36. Seldom have I ceased, 96. She is a winsome wee, 627. Say, gentle princess, 2o6. Self-flatter'd, unexperienced, 724. She is mine owh, 632: Say how this instrument, 314. Self-love and reason, 465. She is my essence, 322. Say, shall I love, 342. Self-love, my liege, 465. She is peevish, sullen, I55. Say she be mute, I57, 381. Semblant art shall carve, 43. She listen'd with, 433. Say, Stella, 305, 317. Send those to paper-sparing, 54. She loves me, 323. Say that she frowns, 458. Sense must sure, 465. She loves him with that, 38 Say, wherefore should, 623. Sense of pleasure, 386, 394. She means to tangle, 68. Say, why are beauties, 67. Sense outside knows, 507. She, more sweet, 79, 37I. Say, why should, 384. Serene and clear, 54. She moves! life wanders, 62. Say, would the tender creature, 299. Sermons he heard, 429. She ne'er saw courts, 665. Scarce can I speak, 39. Servant of God, 584. She never sees thesun, 549. Scarce could the goddess, 252. Serve God before the world, 696. She never told her love, 325. Scarce had he spoken, 122. Service shall with, 285. She on the guilt, 673. Scarce hadst thou, 442. Set all things, 386. She points t1ie arduous, 34. Scarce the dawning, 356. Set honour in one eye, 253. She quits the narrow, 466. Scarce the weary god, 483. Set rows of rosemary, i90. She reason'd without, 678. Scarcely had Phchbus, 362. Set your heart, i68. She said she loved, 3i1. Scarcely she knew, 667. Sets of phrases, 546. She sat like patience, 395. Scholars when good sense, 466. Seven hours to law, 290. She saw Duessa, 273. Schoolmasters will, I56. Sev'n times the sun, 538. She saw her sons, 6i4. Scipio, 450. Several lights, 5I5. She scarce awake, 483. Scylla wept, 42. Severn affrighted, 457. She scorn'd the praise of beauty, 240. Scythia mourns, 6o6. Shadwell alone, 48, I54. She seem'd still back, 384. Sea cover'd sea, 383. Shadwell from the town, 53. She sees, she cries, 308. Sea would be pools, 263. Shadwell till death, 48. She shakes the rubbish, 556. Sea-girt isles, 383. Shady groves, that, 484. She shines, 5i7. Search every comment, II9. Shakes his ambrosial curls, 240. She shines above, 246. IVNDEX OF FIRST LINfES. 767 She (sighing sore, 233. Sigh no more, ladies, 139. Sleep, Silence' child, 483. She silently a gentle, 548. Sighing, I see you, 72I. Sleep, sleep, O city, 486. She sleeps: her breathings, 492. Sighing that Nature, 47. "Sleep soft, beloved," 482. She smiled, array'd, 87. Sighs now breathed, 427. Sleep sweetly, tender, 492. She smiles, and smiles, 661. Sight bereaved, 82. Sleep the sleep, 488. She soothes, but never, 3I9. Silence! coeval, 476. Sleep l to the homeless, 485. She sought Sicheus, 312. Silence in times, 476. Sleep to those, 483. Shespeaks, behaves, and, 335, 673. Silence, in truth, 392. Sleeping vegetables lie, 29. She stammers' oh, what, 545. Silence is the perfectest, 476. Sleep's dewy wand, 493. She still insults, 310. Silence, ye wolves, 52. Sleep'st thou careless, 88. She still renews, 23. Silent companions, 439. Sleights from his wit, 650. She stript the stalks, 2I9. Silently as a dream, 41. Slight is the subject, 424. She studied well, 336. Silly beggars, 467. Slily as any commentator, 98. She talketh most, 369. Similes are like songs, 530. Slips of yew, 577. She that hath a heart, 326. Simple nature, 374. Sloth unfolds her arms, 487. She that her eyrie,. 77. Simple woman, 677. Slow o'er the Apennine, 564. She that herself will sliver, 266. Sin, and her shadow, 230, 477. Slow to resolve, 584. She that so far, 679. Since after thee, 389. Slowly fades the misty, 589. Shethat, so young, I39. Since both cannot possess, 232. Slowly he sails, 470. She that would raise, 307. Since brevity's the soul, 652. Slowly provoked, 202. She to her country's, 396. Since by your greatness, 62I. Small is the soul's, 325. She to her guests, 26i. Since death is near, 126. Small service is true, 2T3. She to the palhce led, 183. Since every man, i28, 30i. Small store will serve, 224. She took the coleworts, 27. Since every mortal power, 55. Small wren, mute, 534. She turn'd-and her mother's, 87. Since his exile, 325. Smit with the love, 44, II4. She valued nothing, 677. Since, howe'er protracted, 23I. Smooth flow the waves 328. She vanish'd, 126. Since I ani turn'd, 338. Snuff, or the fan, 545. She vow'd to rule, 605. Since I did leave, 18. So all ere day-spring, 358. She vows for his, I7. Since I saw you last, 9gI. So are those crisp'd, 239. She walks in beauty, 62. Since I sought, 427. So bold, yet so, II5. She was a creature framed, 633. Since in braided, 252. So botnded are, 373.'She was a form, 62. Since in dark sorrow, 50oi. So bright a splendour, 36. She was a phantom, 679. Since last, with spirits, 563. So bright a tear, 546. She was a soft, 664. Since laws were made, 290. So by him Cesar, 6i8. She was his care, I40, 255. Since living virtue, 278. So calm the waters, 242. She was lovely, 67I. Since love obliges not, 32o. So came I a widow, 550. She weeps, and words, 548. Since my inevitable, 406. So ceased the rival, 365. She went forth, 2i9. Since my Orazia's, 64. So chymists boast, 195. She went from opera, 673. Since nature fails, 372. So corn in fields, 33. She went to plain work, Io7. Since once the living, 288. So dear I love him, 230. She who invites, 494. Since she did neglect, 67. So deep a malice, 33I. She who ne'er answers, 632. Since she must go, 17. So do the dark, 447. She will, and she will not, 668. Since sorrow never, 644. So dost thou aim, 460. She will not fail, 321. Since that respects, 633. So earnest with thy God, 429. She will not stay, i65. Since the muses, 422. So easy is't to appease, 677. She wreaks her anger, 27I. Since the world's wide, 222. So fair and firesh, 363. She, wretched matron, 422. Since then our Arcite, I26. So falls a poplar, 575. She'll to realities.,631. Since then the soul, 506. So farewell hope, 256. She's beautiful, 673. Since this fortune, 204. So fatal'twas, 552. She's empty: hark, 695. Since thou art dead, 504. So fathers speak, i63. She's God's own mirror 644. Since thou canst talk, 321. So fellest foes, 21I. She's gone unkcindly, i8A. Since thou ha:st far to go, 235. So fierce they drove, 258. She's so conjunctive, 322. Since'tis decreed, 252. So forth issew'd, 513. Sheba was never, 646. Since toss'd from shores, 562. So forth they marched, 295. Shed Christian blood, 618. Since trifles make, 28o. So four fierce coursers, 258. Shepherd, ito. Since truth and constancy, i62. So friom the first, 386. Shine, ye stars of heaven, 529, 558. Since we have lost, 243. So frown'd the mighty, 61. Ships heretofore, 472. Since when those frosts, 636. So gentle of condition, IIo. Short absence hurt, 17. Since you can love, 312. So grieves the advent'rous, 473. Short is the date, 40Io. Since you deny him, 629. So hard these heavenly, 393. Short retirement, 17. Sing no more ditties, 32i. So hast thou cheated, I70. Short summer lightly, 535. Sing, syren, for thyself, 240. So hast thou oft, 253. Short were her marriage, 338. Sing to those that hold, 178. So have I seen a Icing, 95. Should a shipwreck'd, 473. Sing, while beside, 229. So have I seen sone, 192. Should all despair, 633. Sink not, 30i. So have I seen trim books, 85. Should I be left, 382. Sir Balaarr now, he lives. 26i. So he that saileth, 688. Should I not seek, 344. Sir Plume (of amber snuff-box, 197. So Huron leeches, 403. Should not all relations, 246. Sir, you are very welcome, 26o. So in the wicked, 594. Should once the world, 688. Sit beneath the shade, 580. So in this throng, 679. Should some god tell me, 300. Sith'twas my fault, 59I. So let us, which this, 449. Should some more sober, ii8. Six brave companions, 472. So likewise a hovel, 33. Should some relenting, i6o. Six hours in sleep, 287. So live, that, when, 123. Should some wild fig-tree, I59. Skill'd by a touch, 462. So lived our sires, 404. Should stupid libels, 46. Sicin more fair, 240. So long, 39i. Should the poor be, 188. Slaughter grows murder, 6io. So long as Guyon, 69. Should the voice directly, 602. Slave to no sect, 374, 446. So lopp'd and pruned, 568. Should we the long-depending, II. Slaves cannot breathe, 298. So lovely fair, 66. Should you lure, 39. Slaves to our passions, 393. So man, who here, 332. Show a while, 627. Slaves who once conceive, 207. So many candidates, 650. Show all her spoils, 615. Sleep flies the wretch. 485. So many days, 468. Show me the flying soul's, i26. Sleep hath forsook, 486. So many great, 660. Show me the green, I95. Sleep hath its own, 482. So many hours, io2. Shreds of wit, 652. Sleep instantly fell, 488. So many miseries, 659. Shun delays, 432, 560. Sleep is no servant, 482. So mariners mistake, 473. Shuntheir fault, t,8. Sleep is pain's, 483. So may cast poets, 422. Shut out from heaven, 686. Sleep on, baby, 482. So may kind rains, 245. Shut up the world, 688. Sleep, Richmond, sleep, 490. So may your bats, i5i. Sickness and pains, 5ii. Sleep rock thy brain, 488. So mayst thou live, 22. Sidney, warbler of poetic prose, 47. Sleep seems their only, 482. So might the heir, 218. 768 INDEX OF FIRST INES. So mimic ancient, 65I. Some aged man, 20o. Some stronger pow'r, 256. So minutes, hours, 304. Some angel copied, 65. Some tallk of an, 440. So much of death, t3I. Some are bewilder'd, IIi. Some that with care, 53o. So much the thirst of honour, 25I. Some artist, whose nice, 404. Some the French writers, 57. So must the writer, 58. Some as justly fame, 172. Some the prevailing, ig9. So my storm-beaten, 95. Some, as thou saw'st, 269. Some there are, 225. So near approach, 279. Some astral forms, 426. Some things admit, 295. So noiseless would, 2t. Some at the bar, 289. Some think one gen'ral, 506. So now he storms, 524. Some beams of wit, 48. Some thought it mounted, 354. So oft as homeward, 328. Some beauties yet, it8, 243. Some thrid the mazy ringlets, 239. So on the land, 384. Some by old words, 684. Some through ambition, 33. So on the tip of his, 646. Some coarse cold salad, 183. Some to conceit alone, 58, II7, 529~ So our decrees, 293. Some clergy too, 336. Some truths are not, 263. So peaceftl shalt thou, 22. Some commons are barren, 33. Some, valuing those, 465. So perish all whose, 543. Some country girl, 337. Some vip'rots critic, 214. So pray'd they innocent, 426. Some cruel pleasure, i69. Some weep in perfect, t38. So sang-the sirens, 479. Some did all folly, go. Some wicked wits, 632. So Satan, whom, 532. Some did the song, 454. Some wit of old, 70o. So saying, with dispatchfullooks, 26c. Some dire misfortune, 2t3. Some who the depths, i56. So shall I court, 23. Some dryly plain,:19, 4to. Some whose meaning, I42. So shall the world, 225, 694. Some feel the rod, 94. Something between, 485. So shall they build me, 727. Some few, by temperance, 127. Something of youth, 708. So shall you hear, 235. Some few, whose lamp, It2. Something there is, 466. So shalt thou best, 130. Some fiery fop, 269. Sometimes a violent laughter, 286. So should we make, 126. Some figures monstrous, 67, 432. Sometimes beneath, 484. So shows a snowy dove, 77. Some foe to his tpright, 6o5. Sometimes forgotten, 347. So sick I anm not, 403. Some for hard masters, 496. Sometimes hath the, 640. So sinks the'day-star, 527. Some for renown, 437. Sometimes her head, 195. So sleek her skin, 64. Some friends of vice, 709. Sometimes I joy, 245. So sleeps the sea-boy, 486. Some from the stranded, 475. Sometimes, misguided, 453. So smooth he daub'd, 595. Some future strain, 86. Sometimes my plague, 340. So soft his tresses, 242. Some grave their wrongs, 20I. Sometimes she driveth, 495. So some weak shoot, 196. Some greedy minion, 632. Sometimes'tis grateful, 422. So soon as the, 360. Some grief shows much, 233. Sometimes virtue starves, 598. So spake the apostate, 24I. Some guard these traitors, 566. Sometimes walking, 207. So spake the seraph Abdiel, 269. Some haggard hawk, 73. Scmetimes we'll angle, 39. So stands the statue, 464, 520. Some have at first, II7, 65i. Somewhat back from the, 573. So strong a wit, 276. Some high or humble, 728. Somewhat in her, 666. So sweet a kiss, 360, 540. Some honour of your own, 25i. Songs, sonnets, epigrams, 51. So sweetly she bade, 392. Some know no joy, 685. Sonnets or elegies, 452. So swells each wintdpipe, 368. Some laws ordain, 289. Sonnets which address, 166. So tedious is this day, 253. Some lazy ages, 248. Soon as Aurora, 355, 357. So tempt they him, 552. Some, less refined, 528. Soon as in douttbtful, 74. So the fair tree, 580. Some limbs again, 22i. Soon as the white, 356. So the false spider, 170. Some log, perhaps, 468. Soon as thy dreadful, 6i18. So th' injured sea, 385. Some lower muse, i75. Soon as thy letters, 297. So the struck eagle, 7r. Some man's wit, 268. Soon may kind heav'n, 594. So the sun's heat, 542. Some men are born to feast, 182. Soon may this flattering, 224. So, then, the Vandals, 643. Some men with swords, 617. Soon the gray-eyed, 357. So thick the roses, 458. Some minute, 400. Soon, trembling in her, 486. So thy fair hand, 450o. Some morosities, 271. Sooner shall cats, 3:14. So to live, 299. Some much averse, 45I. Sooner than the matin-bell, 72. So to repel, 245. Some natural tears, 548. Sorceries to raise, 45. So travellers, who waste, 377. Some ne'er advance, it8. Sorrow and grief, 503. So truly, faithfully, 554. Some nymphs affect, 260. Sorrow and sin, 654. So unaffected, 673. Some nymphs there are, 67. Sorrow breaks seasons, 503. So vanishes our state, 303. Some objects please, 374. Sorrow dogging sin, 50o1. So vast the navy, 469. Some, o'er-enamour'd, 60. Sorrow is knowledge, 283. So violence, 290. Some on antiquated, 40. Sorrow more beautiful, 50o1. So was his will, 380. Some on the bench, 275. Sorrow preys upon, 496. So water, trembling, 620. Some other hour, 50I:. Sorrows are lost, 505. So we th' Arabian coast, 625. Some pause and respite, 547. Soul, dwelling oft, 509. So wert thout born, 412. Some peasants, 570. Soule of the Age, 49. So when he saw, i88. Some pick out bullets, 469. Sound all the lofty, 6,6. So when small humours, 405. Some place the bliss, 82, 408. Sound judgment is, 58. So when the first, 472. Some plants the sunshine,' 191. Sound, sound the clarion, 615. So when the new-born, 73. Some popular chief, 42i. Sounded at once, 225. So when the stun, 538. Some positive persisting, 88, I97, 645. Sounds the tough horn, 368. So, where our wide, 520. Some pounce their curled, 153. Sow with a generous hand, 726. So, while my loved, 45I. Some power impart, 391. Sowe peason and beans, 32. So whirl the seas, 376. Some praise at morning, I ts8 Spake fiill well, i91. So wise, so young, 720. Some praise the eyes,:166. Spare him, death, i24. So, with decorum, 338. Some pray for riches, 452. Spare my sight, 547. So work the honey-bees, 420. Some refuge in the, 414. Speak gently l it is, 682. Society is now one, 494. Some rise by sin, 478. Speak gently to the, 682. Society itself, 494. Some say that ever, 78. Speak, ye who best, 37. Soft elocution, 156, 286. Some scruple rose, ioi. Speaking in deeds, 239. Soft pity never, 406. Some search for hollow, 570. Speaking or mute, 227. Soft were my numbers, 466. Some secret charm, 203. Speculation; which to, 440. Soft whispers run, 198. Some secret truths, 284. Speech submissively withdraws, 29I. Softly feel, 137. Some seek diversion, 608. Speechless with wonder, i8o. Softly the evening came, 588. Some seek to salve, 467. Speed on the ship, 473. Sol through white curtains, 165, 540. Some servile imitators, iig9. Speedy death,:130. Soldier, wake: the day, 6i5. Some she disgraced, 350. Spenser himself, 52. Solemnly he swore, 97. Some solitary cloister, 484, 497. Sphinx was a monster, 648. Solemnly, mournfitlly, 486. Some souls we see, i8. Spirit that breathest, 587. Solitude is sometimes, 497. Some steep their seeds, 27. Spirits are not finely, 375. Solomon lived at ease, 330. Some stow their oars, 473. Spirits live insphered, 5Io. Solon the wise, 296. Some strain in rhyme, 424. Spirits that live, 5Io. INDEX.OF FIRST LIZNVES. 769 Spite of all the fools, 432. Study thyself, 112. Survivor sole, and hardly, 568. Sport, that wrinkled care derides, 286. Study with care, 336. Suspicion all our lives, 566. Sport with Amaryllis, 238. Sturdy swains, i5i. Suspicion always haunts, ioi. Spread upon a lake, 73. Sublime ideas, 530. Suspicious and fantastical, 271. Sprightly May, 484. Sublime or low, 530. Suspicious thoughts, 228. Spring does to flow'ry, 514. Success I hope, 255. Sustain'd by him, 249. Springs through the, 513. Success, the mark, 53I. Sweet are the uses, ig9. Squalid.fortune, 432. Such a doctrine, 152. Sweet be thy cradled, 482. Stand before her, 407. Such a light and mettled, I2I. Sweet bird, that shunn'st, 75. Stand fast, 207, 553. Such a nature, 531. Sweet daughter, 51I. Stand hereby my side, 635. Such a noise arose, 524. Sweet day, so cool, 87, 597. Standing with reluctant, 670. Such an art, 353. Sweet Echo, 456. Starry crowns of heaven, 519. Such an envious, 418. Sweet friends, your patience, 26o. Stars of the many-spangled, 519. Such another world, 273. Sweet grapes degen'rate, 2i4. Stars of the summer night, 5i7. Such are the subtle, 364. Sweet hope! kind cheat, 255. State and wealth, 620. Such are those thick, 542. Sweet intercourse, 493. Statesman, yet friend to, 252, 419. Such are thy secrets, 98. Sweet is the breath of morn, 74, 357. Statesmen purge, 426. Such as I am, 32I. Sweet is the image, 362. Stay! the cheerful, 357. Such as the jocund flute, 107. Sweet is thy virtue, 6oo0. Steed threatens steed, 379. Such blessings nature, 375. Sweet! leave me here, 490. Steer the bounding, 472. Such dread his awful, 74. Sweet mercy, 350. Stern theorists, with wisdom, 70I. Such drowsy sedentary, 22. Sweet notes, 367. Stern winter smiles, 639. Such dupes are men, 220. Sweet recreation, 346. Stiff forms are bad, 336. Such frantic flights, 147. Sweet, slippery silver, 625. Stiff opposition, 89. Such harbingers preceding, 179. Sweet solitary life, 496. Still all great souls, io02. Such helpless harms, 234. Sweet source of virtue, 505. Still an angel, 672. Such huge extremes, 140. Sweet speaking oft, 221. Still arose some, 443. Such is his will, 523. Sweet spring, 512. Still from his little, 93. Such is love, 320. Sweet stream, that, 619, 665. Still govern thou, 499. Such is the face of falsehood, I70. Sweet tastes, 448. Still humming on, 487. Such is the mighty, 466. Sweet Teviot, 457. Still in constraint, 673. Such is the mould, 33. Sweet the coming on, x6r. Still in the paths, 596. Such is the patriot's, 396. Sweet voices, 366. Still in thy right, 398. Such is the poet's lot, 56. Sweet was the sound, i6i. Still let my song, 514. Such is the power of that, 328. Sweet were the tales, 544. Still moving ever, 558. Such kings, 282. Sweet woman is, 667. Still must I cherish, 346. Such lab3ur'd nothings, 529. Sweetness, truth, and, 679. Still new favourites, 308. Such land as ye break, 32. Swift as a sparkle, 517. Still night succeeds, 380. Such lays as neither, 4o10. Swift for closer style, 53. Still o'er these scenes, 346. Such life should be, 137. Swift men offoot, 236. Still panting o'er a, 67I. Such madness, 125. Swift rivers are, 454. Still raise for good, 426. Such madd'ning draughts, 70. Swift, swift, you dragons, 379. Still slowly pass'd, 664. Such men as he, 35. Sycamore with eglantine, 190, 569. Still the battering, 474. Such moderation, 86, 92. Sylphs, yet mindful, 673. Still the fine's the crown, 174. Such mortal drugs, 292. Sylvia's like autumn, 65. Still there's something, 274. Such music as, 367. Still thinking I had, 555. Such noble arts, 596. Still to ourselves, 249. Such precedents, 290. T. Still we sail, 474. Such shameless bards, ii8. Still when the lust, 59I. Such sights as youthftil, 148. Take a plant of, 569. Still with esteem, 84. Sutich strains ne'er warble, 74. Take but degree, 370, 384. Still with his soul, 623. Such sullen planets, 45. "Take care of the children," 722. Still, with itself compared, im8. Such sweet compulsion, 366. Take heart, nor of, 256. Still you keep, 293. Such the figure, 184. Take heed, 532. Stillness of summer, 534. Such their guiltless, 329. Take heed, for he, 292. Stockdoves and turtles, 73. Such tools as art, 43. Take heed, have open, 535. Stones of small worth, 273. Such truth in love, 586. Take heed lest passion, 207, 392. Stood Theodore surprised, 237. Such vast room, 517. Take heed, mine eyes, 69. Stooping to support, 192. Such visions hourly, 484. Take heed, my dear, 67. Stop up th' access, 447. Such wars, such waste, 6io. Take heed you steer, 474. Straight as a line, 198, 569. Such was the Boyne, 453. Take him to develop, i56. Straight from the, 687. Such was the discord, 112. Take it, reader, 648. Straight mine eye, 1o7. Such was the rigid, 40o. Take it while yet, 278. Straight to the ships, 470. Such was the saint, 112. Take my esteem, 433. Strain out the last, 452. Such we find they are, 303. Take no care, o102. Strain'd to the root, 200. Such were the features, 63. Take no repulse, 326. Strange an astrologer, 46. Such were the notes, 132. Take on you the charge, 227. Strange graces still, 673. Such whose whole bliss, I83. Talke pains the genuine, 119. Strange is the power, 148. Sudden he view'd, 318. Take physic, Pomp, 278, 432. Stranger, cease thy care, 304. Suddenly out of this, 149. Take these tears, 548. Stranger to civil, 225. Suffering is sweet, 450. Take this at least, 353. Strength to glory aspires, I73. Suffering not the yellow, 28. Take thy harp, 366. Strephon sigh'd so loud, 392. Sufficient that thy, 448. Take to thee, from, 495. Strephon, with leavy twigs, 578. Summers three times, i30. Take up no more, 175. Stretch'd at ease, 234. Sundays the pillars are, 459. Take you the reins, 484. Strict age and sour, 437. Sunk though he be, 383. Talk as you will, 546. Strike a blush, i88. Superfluity comes sooner, 330. Talk logic with, 3o6. Strike the melodious, 369. Superfluous lags, 22. Talk not of comfort, 140. Strike yoiur sails, 6Ii. Superior beings, 52. Talk who will, 689. Striking her cliff, 523. Sure He that made, 442. Talkers are no good doers, 545. Strip from the branching, 2oo00. Sure I am, unless, 65. Tall are the oaks, 455. Strong virtue, like, 596. Sure if the guilt were, 234. Tall Norway fir, 569. Stubborn critics, apt, i19. Sure, Nature form'd, 661. Tall thriving trees, 215. Stubbornly he did repugn, 293. Sure pledge of day, 358. Tardy of aid, 483.' Studious he sate, 84.' Sure there are, 412. Taste, that eternal, 546. Studious ofgood, I7I. Sure there is none, i6i, 217. Taught by this stroke, 614. Studious they appear, 44. Sure thou art born, 442. Taught by thy art, 405. Studious to please, 385, 528. Surrender up to me, 129. Taught half by reason, 132. Study is like the, 527. Survey, 372. Taught, or untaught, 154. 49 770o 770.IVNDEX 0F FIRZST LIN7ZfIES. Taught to live, 302. That man who hath, ixo. The bird of Jove, 75. Teach me, dear creature, 239. That many knotty, 652. The birds, 74, 79, 358. Teach me, like thee, 645. That mighty orb of song, 55. The birds chant melody, 77. Teach me, O lark, 72. That monster custom, 121. The birds, great Nature's, 77. Teach me to feel, 349. That not for fame, i9g. The birds know how, 8i. Teach the glad hours, 303. That other on his friends, 620. The birds obscene, i98. -Teach them how manly, 1I5. That place that does, 84. The birds shall cease, 3i8. Teach us further by, 522. That pleasing shade, io6. The bitterness and stings, 271. Tears flow, and cease not, 623. That praise contents, 425. The blazing brightness, 69. Tears, for a stroke, 547. That proud heart, 325. The blessed minister, 516. Tears had dimmed, 550. That savage spirit, 99. The blest gods, 445. Tears, idle tears, 349, 55I. That servile path, 114. The blest to-day, 8i. Tears in his eyes, 55o. That she may feel, 266. The blind old man, 47. Tears of the widower, 551. That, sir, which serves, 212. The bliss of man, 332. Tears trickling down, 366. That sots and knaves, 387. The bloody book of law, 294. Tedious waste of time, 288. That sting infix'd, 43I. The bloom of beauty, 64. Tediously pass the hours, 57I1. That stone, 400. The bloom of opening, 67, 675 Telemachus his blooming, 227. That talking knave, 443. The blue-eyed German, 228. Tell by what paths, 453. That tender farewell, 231. The blushing youth, 7I9. Tell him, I did in vain, I70o. That the spent earth, 26. The boast of heraldry, 128. Tell me, 68. That thou may'st injure, 645. The boding owl, 8o. Tell me in what, 293. That thou may'st the better, 26. The body sins not, 477. Tell me, my friend, 228. That time of year, 641. The bold are but the, 644. Tell me not, 302. That undiscover'd country, I36. The bold encroachers, 385. Tell me, sweet lord, 345. That, unrememb'ring of its, 5o8. The bolt of Cupid, 194. Tell me the path, 499. That we may angels, 37. The bookful blockhead, 84. Tell me, what is't, 488. That we up to your palaces, 247. The boughs of Lotos, 569. "Tell me, what's love," 717. That wheel of fops, 409. The bounding steed, 259. Tell me, when shall, 659. That whereby we reason, 440. The brain contains, 275. Tell me, where is fancy, 176. That wind, 236. The brain may devise laws, 293. Tell me, which part, 207. That wrath which hurl'd, I32. The brave abroad, 495. Tell me why the ant, 268. That's Erythea, 125. The brave man seeks not, 86. Tell wit how much, 652. That's my joy, 274. The brazen throat of war, 613. Tell zeal it lacks devotion, 727, The absent danger, i8o. The brazen trumpets, 6i4. Tells how the drudging, 30. The acceptance, sir, I84. The breaking of that, 157.'Temperate as the morn, 360. The action great, 452. The breath of heaven, 358. Tempestuous fortune, 504. Th' adjoining brook, 526. The breath of others, i75. Temporal blessings heaven, 427. Th' advice was true, i8o. The breezy call, I28, i59. Tempt not his heayr, 226. The aged earth, aghast, iSi. The bride, 87. Ten thousand casks, 268. The air is full of farewells, 532. The brief with weighty, 296.'Ten thousand stalks, 193. The air, such pleasure, 367. The bright sun, 272. Ten thousand trifles, 674. The all-softening, 282. The brightness of her beauty, 69.'Ten thousand warblers, 7I. Th' Almighty cast, 406. The British cannon, 382. Ten wildings have I, 214. The ambiguous god, 584. The broadest mirth, 352, 548. Thames' fruitful tides, 455. The amorous bird, 87. The broil long doubtful, 436. Than Timoleon's arms, 46. The ancient saying, 633. The broken air, 72. Thank God, bless God, 546. The angel ended, 37. The broken soldier, 495. T'hanks to giddy chance, 9i. The angry word suppress'd, 250. The bullet comes, 6i5. Thanks to my stars, 45. The apostate angel, 37. The busy bees, 484. That air and harmony, 67. The approach of night, 59o. The busy craftsman, 488. That all men would be, xii. The Ariosto of the north, 47. The busy head, 349. That brawny fool, 83. The armourers accomplishing, 43, The busy subtile serpents, 295. That by certain signs, 354. 617. The busy sylphs, I52. That Chloe may, i52. The arm'rer's temper, 43 The butterfly, which sports, 626. That churchman bears, 86. The artful youth, 369. The buzzard, 72. *That clearer marks, 372. The aspiring youth, 171. The canker galls, 194. That close aspect ofhis, 582. The astrologer, who spells, 45. The cannon's hush'd, 6I3. That crawling insect, 332. The babbling echo, 262. The captive cannibal, 20o. That critic eye, 217. The babe had all, 95. The captives, as their, 369.'That cunning architect, 235. The bad man's death, i29. The careful ploughman, 30. *That dew, that bless'd, 728. The baits of gifts, 250. The carpet ground, 285.'That each from other, 593. The balmy zephyrs, 132. The cattle in the fields, 30, o107. *That eye dropp'd sense, 549. The band,of flutes, 366. The cause of love, 31. That flattery ev'n, i88. The bard that first, 56. The chains of darkness, uco. That, from a patriot, 396. The bard whom pilfer'd, 57. The chamber where, 138. That generous boldness, 2i3. The barge she sat in, 472. The champions, all of high, 97. That glorious day, 470. The base degenerate age, 278. The charge is prepared, 295. That good man, 49. The base wretch, 59. The charming Lausus, 64. That grates my heart-strings, 142. The battle hurtles, 607. The charms of poetry, 409. That grounded maxim, 396. The beachy girdle, 384. The charms of youth, 723. That handkerchief, 94. The beams of light, 263. The cheerful birds, 76, 79. That happiness does still, 243. The bearded corn, 27. The chief I challenged, 651. That he should dare, iii. The bearing and the, 97. The chiefs about, 273. That horse that thou so often, 259. The beauties of this place, 64. The childlike faith, i69. That hot-mouth'd beast, 399. The beautifier of the dead, 556. The chiming clocks, 284. That I see thee here, 340. The beauty I beheld, 64. The choir, 370. That indecision marks, 584. The bee with honey'd thigh, 487. The chough, the sea-mew, 76. That kill the bloom, 242. The beech, the swimming alder, 568. The Christian princess, 156. That lie shall lie, 452. The bees have common cities, 289. The circling mountains, 524. That life is better life, 234. The bending scythe, 29. The circling streams, 404. That life is long, 305. The best, 237. The clanmorous viol, 78. That light you see, 225. The best he was, 295. The cleft tree, 80. That lord whose hand, 262. The best quarrels, 436. The clouds are still, 438. That loss is common, 137. The best, the dearest, 232.'The clouds consign, 439. That love alone, 324. The best way is to, 480. The clouds dispell'd, 538. That love which first, 310o. The bigger whale, 472. The clouds may drop, 648. That man lives greatly, x38. The billows fall, 382. The cloud-capp'd towers, 304, 696. That man must lead, 629. The billows swell, 552. The coast, 379. That man shall flourish, 567. The birch, the myrtle, 568. The cock, that is, 77, 36o. IJNDEX OfF FIRST L'IVNE S..77I The colour of the king, ios. The evening comes, i62. The French and we, 9r. The combat now by courage, 0og. The evil that men do, 162. The frequent errors, 200. The combat thickens, 437, 520. The example of the, 364. The fresh eglantine, i9o. The coming spring, 459. The expedition of my, 322. The friendly gods, 472. The commons, like an, 420. The face of things, 127. The friends I loved, 714. The conquer'd also, 481. The face that in the, 70. The friends thou hast, 211. The conscious wretch, 447. The face which, duly, 53r.. The friends who in, 2io. The constant tenor, 424. The fainting soul, 132. The friendships of the world, 208. The cook and sewer, I83. The fair, 67. The frugal housewife, 422. The country rings, 495. The fair blessing, 209. The fruits perish, 2I3. The courser paw'd the ground, 258. The fair example, 47.. The full sum of me, 675. The cowslips tall, 194. The fair-hair'd queen, 240. The fun'ral pomp, 216. The crafty boy, 328. The fair pomegranate, 2i3. The future few, 179. The crested bird, 72. The fairest action, 450. The gallant monarch, 77. The critic to his grief, 120. The fairest flowers, I94. The gallants dancing, 458. The crooked plough, 26. The faithful pencil, 388. The galley borne, 469. The crowdoth sing, 464. The fall of waters, io6. The game of life, 299. The crows and choughs, 77. The fame that a man, 172. The gamesome winds, 238. The cruel and the bitter, 68o. The famous painter, 389. The garden of Proserpine, 220. The cruel word, 257. The famous warriors, 618. The garden was inclosed, 2i9. The curious unthrift, 15I. The fanning wind, 485. The garlands fade, 317. The cry went once for thee, i74. The fashion, 153. The gaudy, hlabbing, 122, 262, 379. The daisy, primrose, 195. The fate of all extremes, 84. The gay, the wise, 329. The damsels they delight, 37I. The fate of love, 309. The genius and the mortal, 220. The dappled pink, 240. The fate which governs, 650. The gen'ral voice, 334. The dastard crow, 73. The Fates but only spin, 277. The gen'rous band, 93. The daughters of the flood, i9o. The father banish'd, 596. The gen'rous critic, 2I7. The dawn is overcast, 355. The father bore it, I41, 232. The gcn'rous god, 413, 65i. The day, 183. The father's grief, 232. The gentle shepherd, 220. The day approach'd, 87. The fault of others', 162. The gentle youth who, 7o0. The day begins to break, 122, 359- The fearful passenger, 563. The gentleness of all, 221. The day is done, 377. The feast was served, 185. The gentlest heart, 221. The day seems long, 249. The feather whence the, 55. The genuine sense, 562. The days of life, 305. The feeble old, 21. The giddy ship, 470. The dazzling roofs, 535. The few that pray, 425. The girl might pass, 696. The dead man's knell, 136. The field, 30, 284. The glad circle, 653. The dead tree, 571. The field is spacious, 26. The gleaners, 32. The debt immense, 228. The fields are ravish'd, 614. The glebe untill'd, 25. The deep of night, 489, 545. The fiend replied, 437. The glittering finny, 287. The deep recesses, 234. The fiend with necessity, 590. The glorious lamp, 538. The delighted.spirit, 51o. The fiery courser, 258. The glorious planet Sol, 54r. The detestation you express, 595. The fiery soul, 34. The glorious sun, 542. The devil can cite, 463. The fiery war-horse, 257. The glory dies not, 47. The devil was piqued, 453, 553. The fighting winds, 364. The glow-worm, 359. The dews of the evening, i6i. The finish'd garden, 220. The glowing dames, 66r. The dewy paths of meadows, io6. The fire of love, 320. The glowing garland, 240. The diamond is by, 355. The fire which choked, 322. The god a clearer space, 246. The diligence of trade, 376, 483. The fire will force, 391. The god constrains, 250. The discontented now, 142. The firm patriot, 395. The god of love himself, 3r9. The disease, that shall, 403. The firmest purpose, 188. The god of love retires, 318. The disk of Phoebus, 538. The first bringer, 376. The god of wit, 276. The doctors, tender, 405. The first fresh dawn, 492. The goddess, studious, 29t. The dog-star rages, 57. The first great work, 585. The goddess, with, 142. The doubled charge, 454. The first physicians, 404. The gods, 275. The doubts and dangers, 327. The first request, I5I. The gods are just, 408. The downward sun, 542. The first time I beheld, 525. The gods from heav'n, 352. The downy orchard, 2I5. The first tragedians, I45. The gods in bounty, 38, 595. The dread knight's sword, 241. The firstlings of the flock, 467. The gods shall to, 549. The dread ofsomething, 533. The fish had long, i87. The gods their shapes, 72. The dreadfil judgment, 123. The fishermen that walk. 472. The gods, who portion, 179. The drowsy frighted steeds; 487. The fix'd, unalterable, 288. The golden age, 442. The drowsy night, 378. The fixture of her eye, 166. The golden ewer, 205. The drying ip, 280. The flags of war, 618. The golden sun salutes, 360, 540. The dukle's unjust, 293. The flames ascend, 426. The good ]Eneas, 17i. The dull flat falsehood, I70. The flaming seraph, 181. The good Andronicus, 253. The dullest brain, 76. The fleece that has been, 9I. The good are better, I9, 503. The dumb shall sing, 479. The flies by chance, 236. The good he scorn'd, 37. The dureful oak, whose sap, 578. The flighty purpose, 727. The good man warn'd, 128. The dusky clouds o'erspread, 522. The flow'r which lasts, 29o. The good need fear no law, 290. The dust is old upon, 565. The flowers, call'd out, 189. The good shepherd, 468. The dying gales, 575. The flow'rs divine, 459. The good, the brave, 635. The eagle and the storlk, 75. The flow'rs she wore, 240. The good we have, 449. The eagle's fate, 8i. The flow'rs unsown, 29o. The gown with stiff, 252. The ear that budded, 3I. The flowers which it, 189. The Graces from the, 652. The early village cock, 77, 36o. The fly-slow hours, 359. The graces put not more, 253. The earth, I55. The flying rumours, 174. The grateful work is done, 6it. The earth, and each, I55. The folds stand empty, 32. The grave, where ev'n, 229, 449. The earth hath lost, 224. The fool hath planted, 42, 530, 685. The gravity and stillness, 720. The eloquent blood, 83. The fool whose wife, 339. The gray morn, 36I. Th' embroider'd suit, I52. The foolish and short-sighted, I24. The gray-eyed morn, 360. Th' encroaching ill, 552. The fools, my juniors, 237. The great Antilocus, 274. The end crowns all, 559. The force of that, 214. The great are privileged, 230. The envious clouds, 54I. The forest, Lord, 602. The great competitors, 614. Th' eternal art, 225. The forest trees, 572. The great controller, 26i. Th' eternal cause, 409. The formal stars, 520. The great in honoutir, 240. Th' eternal eye, 443. The fountain's, 525. The great King of kings, 292. Th' Eternal when, 207. The fowler, warn'd, 75. The great luminary, 539. Th' ethereal vigour, 508. The fragrant fruit, 213. The great man down, 212. The even mead, 294. The flame ofburnish'd, 98. The great mocking master, 583. 772 INVDEX OF FIRST LINES. The greatest and most cruel, 264. The judge corrupt, 276. The low'ring spring, 28. The greatest chief, 229. The judge, to dance, 275. The lunatic, the lover, 264. The greatest glory, 298. The juicy pear, 205. The lute neglected, 368. The greatest schemes, 558. The jury, passing, 293. The lute still trembles, 365. The Grecian phalanx, 604. The just is clearly, 528. The maid, 3T9. The Grecians rally, 6o. The just shall dwell, 278. The maid improves, 334. The Greek names, 45. The keen, clear air, 639. The main consents, 340. The green leaves quiver, 200. The kernel of a grape, 213. The man in graver, I44. The grottoes cool, 098. The kids with pleasure, 438. The man resolved, 278. The ground one year, 29. The kind oblation, 547. The man that blushes, 83. The grove of sycamore, 577. The kind refresher, 439. The man that hails you, 208. The growing tow'rs, 4I. The kindest and, 337. The man that has a tongue, 324. The hairs on his head, 238. The kindred arts, 388. The man that hath no music, 370 The Halcyon sleep, 485. The king, 524. The man that shiver'd, 477. The hand and head, 56, 409~ The Iking is come, 612. The man that sits, 409. The hand of fate, 277. The king is mad, 267. The man their hearty welcome, 260. The hand that slew, 725. The king-becoming graces, 228, 282. The man who builds, 250. The happy have whole days, 243. The king's name, 282. The man who consecrates, 6oi. The happy whimsey, 309. The kingly bird, 8o. The man who laugh'd, 290. The harmony of things, 364. The knowing artist, 245. The man whom heav'n appoints, 282. The harp, 366. The labouring bee, 460. The man whose hardy, 460. The hart hath hung, 5o4. The labour'd ox, 30.'The man's that resolute, 278. The harvest treasures all, 245. The lab'ring swain, 26. The marble tomb, 03I. The hasty multitude, 40. The ladies and the knights, 438. The marigold whose, I89. The haunts of meditation, 450. The ladies angling, 39. The mariner that on, 521. The hay is carried, 245. The ladies dress'd, i5o. The maskers come late, 067. The heart, 7o0. The ladies gasp'd, 534. The Master hath need, 727. The heart resolves, 595. The ladies, gayly, I50- The master's hand, 387. The heart unalter'd, 597. The ladies sought, 342.'The match, 340. The Heart! Yes, I wore it, 6o5. The lady of the leaf, 183. The meanest sculptor, 463. The heart's still, 452. The lamb thy riot, 440. The means that heaven, 385. The hearts, 420.. The land was beautiful, 563. The meat was served, o85. The hearts of princes, 282. The lapse of time, 556. The meeting points, 239. The heathen bards, 046. The lark begins, 358. The melancholy Philoniel, 79. The heavenly f/ther, 595. The lark still shuns, 8. The merchant from, 674. The heav'ns and all, 5x8. The lark, the messenger, 73. The merry birds, 79. The heav'ns have blest, 97. The lashing billows, 469. The merry cuck.oo, 79. The heavens themselves, 386. The last image, 248. The messenger approaching, 490. The heaviest muse, io6. The last link, 390. The messenger of death, 037. The heaving tide, 383. The last loud trumpet's, 449. The middle sort, 203. The hedge-sparrow, 78. The last, scarce ripen'd, 348. The midnight clock, 377, 426. The heedless lover, i66. The latter watch, 485. The mighty hopes, 257. The helm may rust, 296. The law hath judged thee, 293. The mighty master, 406. The helmned cherubim, 40o. The law hath yet another, 292. The mighty rivals, 615. The hemisphere of earth, -55. The law that settles all, 287. The mighty Stagyrite, 52. The herald of love's, 327. The laws are sinfully contrived, 288. The mighty trunk, 579. The hero William, 5o. The laws of God, 290. She mimici ape. 462. The heron, 79. The lazy glutton, 484. The mind and spirit, 350. The high-prancing steeds, 259, The leaf of eglantine, 094. The mind contracts, 343. The higher Nilus, 30. The leaves are rustling, 635. The mind doth shape, 350. The highest hill, 202. The leaves on trees, 570. The mind I sway by, iSi. The hills and dales again, 455. The lengthen'd night, 360. The mind, in metaphysics, 40I. The hoary fool, 502. The less had been, 467. The mind is its own place, 35t, 658. The hoary, wrinkled, 405. The liberal are secure, 92. The mind of man, 283. The hollow-whisp'-ing, 580. The lids are ivy, 463. The mind, say they, 350. The hollow wind, 439. The life did flit, 037. The mind, when turin'd, 393. The honour is overpaid, 253. The life thou gavest, 079. The minstrels play'd, 565. The honour'd gods, 279. The light coquettes, io5. The miserable have no, 257. The honours of a name, 36. The light of love, 62, 664. The modest virtues, 552. The hook she bore, 2i9. The light of midnight's, i64. The modest water saw, 609. Th' hour, 487. The lights and shades, 593. The moments past, 348. The hour of marriage, 337. The lines are weak, 51. The monarch oak, 569. The hovering rack, 46]. The lion's whelps, 97. The moon arose, 5i5. Th' humble shrub, 239. The liquid drops, 55o. The moon grows sickly, 356. Thle hungry judges, 275. The little babe, 8. The moon her monthly, 354. The hunt is uip, 262. The little children, 95. The moon in levell'd, 354. The husband's sullen, 338. The little courtiers, 406. The moon put on, 353. Th' indorsement of, 459.'T'he little ones are gone, 702. The moon i she is, 354. The ill-faced owl, 8o. The little shape, 096. The moon, the governess, 355, 403. Th' illiterate writer, 56. The little strong enmbrace, 97. The moon was up, 354. The ills of love, 3I. The lives of all who, 6io. The moon whose orb, 324. The image of a wicked, 447. The living few, I27. The more, 238. The impatient courser, 259. The long fun'rals, 216. The more effeminate, 072. The incessant care, 89. The long northern twilight, 589. The inmore I know, i8o. The incessant weeping, 504. The lopp'd tree in time, 560, 578. The more inform'd, II5. The infant flames, 308. The loud daw, 076. The more we have, 59. The instances that, 340. The love of gold, 6o. The morn is up again, 355. The instruments of darkness, 553, 582. The love of higher, 705. The morning cock, 77. The interruption of their, 62. The love of horses, 258. The morning lark, 357. The inventive god, 650. The love of liberty, 298. The morning lowers, 405. The isle Atea, 356. The love of praise, 425. The morning muses, 70. The isles of Greece, 47. The love that cheers, 628. The morning on her, 356. The jay, the rook, the daw, 80. The love-lorn nightingale, 75. The morning sun, 575. The jealous sects, 289. The lovely boy, 406. The morrow fair, 360. The joy unequall'd, 274. The lovely Thais, 87. The miossy fountains, 205. The joys of love, 327. The lovely young Lavinia, 205. The mother nightingale, 73. The joys of sense, 5o. The lover, frantic, 68. The mother plant, 2i4. The joyous nymphs, i68. The lover in the husband, 262. The mother's and her, 227. The judge, 296. The lover now, 307. The mountain trees in, 569. IN.DEX OF FIRST LINES. 7 73 The mourner yew and, 569. The phoenix' wings, 79. The robin-redbreast, 76. The mournful fair, 27.'The piece you think, ii6. The rolling billows, 384. The murmuring surge, 384. The pierced battalions, 6i. The Roman camp, 6ic. The murmuring wind, 49I. The plague of gold, 223. The roof with joy, 337. The muse whose early, ii8, 4Io. The plain good man, 50. The rook, who high, 80. The muses blush'd, I21. The plain the forests, 298. The root cut off, 4I5. The muses' friend, 120.'The planks, their pitchy, 474. The rose is fairest, 257, 549. The music of that, 456.'IThe pleasant'st angling, 39. The rose is fragrant, i89. The musket and the coyshet, 73. The pleasing poison, 269. The rosy-finger'd, 355. The narrow seas, 470. The Pleiades before him, 518. The rout and tragical, i45. The nations bleed, 6I4. The plenteous board, 284. The royal husbandman, 26. The nations far and near, 6ii. The ploughman leaves, 29. The rugged hair, 237. The native energy, 570. The poet and his theme, 413. The rugged metal, i8. The native hue, iio. The poet in his vigil, 6o3. The ruling passion, 392, 673. The needy poet, 423. The poet's eye, 424. The running streams, 467. The needy traveller, 452. The points of honour, 301. The rural seat, 580. The neighbours, 2i6. 1 he polish'd pillar, 464. The rustic honours, 6io. The neighb'ring plain, 609. The poor inhabitant, 223. The sacred ground, 458. The new-born Phoenix, 365. The poor shade, 477. The sacred influence, 305. The new dissembled eagle, 73. The poor sleep little, 423. The sacred sons, 275. The next I took to wife, 632. The poor, the rich, 22. The sacred sun, above, 54o. The next in place, 436, 533. The poor wren, 79, 390. The sad and solemn, 525.'The next thing, 322. The poorest of the sex, 667. The sad-eyed justice, 276.'The nicest eye, 277. The poring scholiasts, II7. The sailing Pine, 579. The night, 376. The portal shone, 388. The saint sustain'd it, i6o. The night has been unruly, 524. The pow'r appeased, 469. The same dew, 294. The night is come, 5x6. The pow'rs we both, 426. The same that left, 65. The night of sorrow, i66. The present point, 557. The same uneasiness, 300. The night restores, 246. The press, the pulpit, 229. The sap in fluent dance, 594. The night seems double, 376. The pride of nature, 649. The sappy boughs, 245. The nightingale, if she, 78. The priest let fall, 340. The Saracen, this hearing, 6s8. The nightingale is, 80. The priest on Skins, 247. The sauce to meat, 9o. The night's companion, 482. The priest was pretty well, 262. The Saviour Son, 444. The nodding statue, 463. The primal duties, 93. The scaly nations, 473.'he noise increases, 522. The prince by chance, 459. The scene, a wood, 579. The noisy geese, 74. The prince, who kept, 128. The scene of beauty, i8. The noon of night, 490. The princeps copy, 84. The sceptre, learning, I36. The Norman conquering, 288. The princes differ, 290. The scholars of, 401. The north is a noiance, 32. The printed part, 85. The scribbler, pinch'd, 56. The nurse's legends, 96. The pris'ner with, 72. The sea! the sea, 382. The nursling grove, 30. The private wound, 212. The seals of office, 425. The nymph did like, 335. The privilege that ancient, 58. The seaman, safe, 474. The nymph nor spun, 236. The proud he tamed, 429. The sea's our own, 385. The nymph surveys him, 66. The proverb holds, 3o0. The seas are quiet, 647, 697. The nymph the table, 284. The pure and radiant, 712. The seas retain, 382. The nymph, when nothing, 307. The pure, open, prosperous, 339. The season, prime, 464.'he nymphs with scorn, 296. The pure, the bright, 702. The season when, 479. The oak for nothing, 579.'The purest exercise, 263. The seasons alter, 458. The object I could first, 570. The purest treasure, 92. The second causes, 404. The obscure bird, 78. The purple garments, 295. The second room, 389. The old and new, 5x5. The purple morning left, 357. The secret wound, s6o. The old old friends, 703; The purple morning, rising, 359. The seed of Banquo, i79. The one as famous, 462. The quacks of government, 226. The seer, while zephyrs, 487. The one intense, 334. The quaint mazes, 285. The self-same sun, 537, 542. The one lives her age's, 397. The quality of mercy, 35o. The self-torturing sophist, 47. The only amaranthine, 583. The queen of night, 353. The sense of death, 135. The oppressor's wrong, 293. The question whose, 667. The senseless grove, 234. The orchard loves to wave, 30, 639. The quick'ning power, 82. The senseless plea, 417. The organ-sound, 364. The radiant sun, 538. The sentinel stars, 5x5. Th' other, whose gay train, 75. The rage ofjealousy, 27r. The setting sun, 539. The ousel cock, 78. The rainbow's lovely, 722. The setting siun now, 540. The owl shriek'd, 78. The rains arise, 5o5. The shadows of the evening, 590. The painful warrior, 627. The rapid current, 229. The sheeted dead, n34. The painted birds, 72. The rarer thy, 352. The shepherd bears, 467. The painted lizard, 72. The raven croak'd, 78. The shepherd swains, 468. The pale boy senator, 419. The raven himself, 78. The shepherd's homely, 468. The pale complexion, 320. The raven, used, 70. The shining sideboard, 285 The pale descending year, 59. Therays of wit, 652. The shooter eugh, 572. The paleness of this flow'r, I94. The ready cure to cool, 402. The show'ry arch, 438. The pamper'd colt, 258. The reason that I gather, 267. The sightless Milton, 55. The parted bosom, 249. The rebel knave, 443. The silent heart, 498. The partners of their crime, 565. The reconciling grave, I36. The silent hours, 36o. The passion you pretended, 94. The redbreast, sacred, 80. The silent vaults, 223. The passive gods, 395. The remnant of, 23. The silken fleece, n93. The past is all, 393. The repeated air, 423. The silver empress, 355. The path of sorrow, 5oo00. The reputation, 596. The silver Thames, 454. The path to peace, 597. The rest are vanish'd, 232. The sixth age shifts, 24. The paths which wound, 579- The rest, far greater, 446. The sky shrunk, 454. The patient show'd, 55. The rest to some, 48. The slenderfir, 572. The patriot virtues, 397. The restless spirit, 706. The slipp'ry tops, I77, 230. The peaceful peasant, 28. The rich brocaded, i5i. The slow-paced gout, 508. The peaceful pow'r, 323. The rich dale, 359. The smallest worm will turn, 592. The peacock not, 77. The rich, the poor, 229. The smell of grain, 107. The peacock's plumes, 74. The right divine, 428. The smoothest course, 505. The peasant, innocent, 28. The river of bliss, 238. The snow had begun, 638. The peasants were enjoin'd, 569. The river of life, 455. The snow is on the, 639. The people, free from cares, 88. The river pours along, 457. The snow-wvhite damask, 184. The people like a headlong, 399. The river Thames, 457. The soil untill'd, 245. The perverseness of my, 399. The robb'd that smiles, 233. The soil, with fatt'ning, 28. 774 INDEX OF FIRST I'NES. The soldier then, 44. The sweetest bird, 244. The very generations, 123. The solemn death-watch, 128. The sweetest cordial, 99, 225. The very thoughts, 433. The solemn fop, I97, 275. The sweetest tales, 544. The vigour of this arm, 6ii. The song too daring, 500. The sword, 43. The vile worm, 333. The soul, 44I. The sylphs through mystic, i68. T'he vilest dogg'rel, 4I1. The soul being first, 477. The tables in fair order, i84. The village all, 255. The soul, immortal, 509. The talents lost, 446. The vineyard must employ, 27. The soul in all hath, 506. The tallest pines, 572. The violence of either grief, 233. The soul of music, 467, 543. The tardy plants, 216. The virgin ent'ring, I47. The soul on earth, 509. The tear down childhood's, 96, 719. The virgin quire, 339. The soul, pure fire, 5o8. The tear which thou, 548. The virgins also, 339. The soul receives, 124. The teeming earth, 26. The virtuous mind, ioo. The soul, secure, 506. The tempest in my mind, 466, 523. The vision said, 247The soul, uneasy, 218. The tempest rages wild, 523. The visitation of the winds, 384. The soul's dark cottage, 25, 56o. The tender accent, 674. The voice of prayer, 604. The sound, 366. The tender blades, 5i2. The voice of the morning, 604. The sounds and seas, 187. The tender firstlings, 467. The vulgar i a scarce, 605. The southern wind, 524. The tender heart is peace, Io4. The vulgar boil, s85. The spider's most, 83. The term of life, 304. The vulgar thus, 297. The spirit of deep prophecy, 218. The thin chameleon, i86. The wakeful bird, 75. The spirit of man, 265. The thing of courage, ito, 543. The wakefid nightingale, 378. The spirits, 167. The third best absent, 290. The waking dawn, 357. The spirits perverse, 5Io. The third fair morn, 383. The walk, the words, 238. The spiteful stars, 45. The thorny point, 336. The wandering breath, 227. The spleen with sullen, 344. The thought, 497. The wand'ring streams, 525. The spreading branches, 570. The thoughtless wits, 650. The wanting orphans, 92. The sprightly horse, 258. The thoughts of gods, 5i. The warlike elf, 579. The sprightly Sylvia, 673.'The thriving plants, 2i9. The war's whole art, 606. The spring, like youth, 20. The throne a bigot, 652. The watchful sentinels, 465. The spring-scented buds, 5ii. The throstle with his note, 79. The watchful traveller, 563. The spring, the summer, 513. The throttling quinsey, 402. The Water! the Water, 620. The star that bids, 527. The thunder, 522. The waving harvest, 298. The starry Galilee, 47. The Tiber, 454. The ways of heaven, 246, 434. The stars are forth, 376. The Tiber, whose, 456. The weak low spirit, 203. The stars, no longer, 525. The time before the fire, 545. The wealthy spring, 289. The stars of midnight, 70.'he time draws near, 604. The weariest and, 135. The stars shall fade, 524, 700. The time was once, 32I. The wearisome, lone, 697. "The stars," she whispers, 520. The timely dew, 487. The weary sun hath made, 542. The stars which grace, 515. The timely noise, 259. The weary traveller wandering, 205. The startling steed, 258. The tim'rous maiden, i89. The weary traveller, who, 564. The starving chymist, 33, 224. The titmouse and, 74. The weighty bullion, 530. The stately-sailing swan, 8o. The toilet, nursery, 65. The weighty mallet, 43. The statesman, lawyer, io6. The tomb, with manly, 273. The welcome news, 297. The stealing shower, 439. The tongue moved gently, 65, 0o4. The well-fraught bowl, 272. The still returning, 22. The tongues of dying, I36. The well-informed philosopher, 637. The stone that labours, 314. The torrent roar'd, 384. The well-proportion'd shape, 64. The storm the dark, 522. The tract of everything, 1o4. The well-sung woes, 659. The stoutest vessel, 474. The train prepare, 224. The well-swoln ties, 175. The strange reverse, 406. The traitor's odious name, 565. The west as a father, 32. The strawy Greelks, 3r. The tree at once both, 568. The west yet glimmers, 565. The stream is so transparent, 454, 525. The tree of deepest root, 25. The whisp'ring breeze, 576. The string that jars, 369. The tree of knowledge, 283. The whole division, 43, 6o9. The strong through pleasure, 408. The tree that stood, 578. The whole world, 43. The strongest love, 68i. The trees, 577. The wicked with anxiety, 625. The suitor train, i85. The trees did bud, 79. The widow'd turtle, 74. The sum of all that makes, 630. The trees were unctuous, 569. The wife, 631. The summer, how, 533- The trembling lute, 365. The wild waves, 474. The summer, the divinest, 535. The trial hath endamaged, 252. The wild winds whistle, 523. The sun, i6i, 539, 542, 638. The Trojan chief, 237. The willing metal, 197. The sun deep-darting, 594. The Trojans mount, 470. The willows' and the, 574. The sun hath lost, 542. The trouble of my thoughts, 148. The wind that whistles, 484. The sun is in the heaven, 541. The truest characters, 264.'She wind-shaked surge, 524. The sun is set, 587. The truest hearts, 53. The winding ivy chaplet, 9i. The sun is still, 538. The truly brave, 86. The winding wood, 568. The sun, like this, 537. The trumpet's loud, 639. The winds are changed, 382. The sun more glad, 438. The trumpets, sackbuts, 370. The winds grow high, 523. The sun ne'er views, 540. The trumpets sleep, 398. The winds were hush'd, 71. The sun now rose, 537. The truth appears, 585. The winds, with wonder, 383. The sun of all, 2I7. The tumbler's gambols, 470. The winds within, 570. The sun shines hot, 32. The tumult of each sack'd, 622. The winglets of, 71. The sun was set; and Vesper, 516,535. The twilight is over, 589. The winter being over, 655. The sun was sunk, 588. The twilight is sad, 588. The wintry winds, 636. The sun's, 236. The twining jessamine, 93. The wise contriver, 38i. The sun's oppressive ray, 70. The two beneath the, 637.'The wise for cure, 163. The sunset hues are, 587. The two delinquents, 488. The wiser madman, 29. The supernal Judge, 276. The undistinguish'd seeds, 2I7. The wisest men are glad, I30. The surest road, 404. Th' unerring sun, 538. The wish-which ages, 298. The surly commons, 416. The unfallow'd glebe, 30. The wish to know, 283. The swain, in barren, 525. The unfolding star, 329. _'he wither'd frame, 39r. The swallow peeps, 80. The unhappy man, 56. The wits of the town, 652. The swallow skims, 73. Th' unletter'd Christian, I69, 446. The wits that dived, 33I. The swallow sweeps, 80. The unsought diamonds, 5i8. The woes to come, 659. The swallows, in their, 656. Th' unwieldy elephant, 352. The wolves have prey'd, 360. The swan with arched, 75. The vain coquette, 0o5. The women-who would, 275. The swan's down feather, 79. The vain endurances, 49. The wood, 299. The sweating steers, 26. The vanquish'd party, o103. The work the touchstone, 372. The sweet numbers, 41I. The varying year, 492. The world contains, 690. The sweet st ason, 513. The veins unfill'd, i85. The world goes whispering, 688. The sweet thoughts, 285. The verse in fashion, Ix5. The world has just begun, 302. INDEX OF FIRST INiVES. 775 The world is a great dance, 690. Their weapons only, 444. Then pray'd that she might, 426. The world is bright, 692, 7II. Their wildness lose, 43. Then, rising with, 414. The world is far too, 691. Them among, 343. Then rose from sea, 473. The world is grows so bad, 79. Them before the fry, 97. Then rose the captain, 625. The world is just as hollow, 687. Themselves at discord, 62. Then rose the seed, 378. The world is not thy friend, 292. Then a hand shall pass, 270. Then round our death-bed, I25. The world is too much, 697. Then a soldier, 495. Then sculpture and her, 464. The world knows nothing, 231. Then, after sage monitions, 42i. Then shall our names, 174. The world no longer, 689. Then all bad poets, x14. Then shall the British stage, 143. The world, so pleasant, 653. Then all this earthly, 130. Then shall the war, 6o8. The world that cannot deem, 189. Then appear'd, 58i. Then shall the yew, 571. The world, where lucky throws, 698. Then as a bee, 389. Then shall thy Craggs, 397. The world with calumny, 480. Then as an eagle, 73. Then ships of uncouth, 47I. The world's a bubble, 687. Then as they'gan, 85. Then shook the sacred, 305. The world's a hive, 695. Then at the last, 529. Then shun the ill, 320. The world's a lab'rinth, 688. Then Avarice'gan, 60. Then stay, my child, 522. The world's a stormy sea, 695. Then balmy sleep, 488. Then straight commands, 366. The world's a wood, 688. Then banish'd faith, I69. Then summer, autumn, 5i2. The world's all title-page, 263. Then bids prepare, i85. Then swell with pride, 431. The world's esteem, 689. Then, briny seas, 381. Then take repast, i62. The world's infectious, 698. Then came rich clothes, 369. Then they who brothers', 289. The worm of conscience, ior. Then came the iolly Somtenr, 535. Then those, whom form, 288, 565. The worm that gnaws, 3I. Then came the parting, 390o. Then thou, the mother, I3o. The worth of all men, 699. Then cease, bright nymph, 239. Then through my brain, 433. The wound of peace, 143. Then ceremony leads, 583. Then thus a senior, 40. The wreath of radiant, 360. Then change we shields, 6ii. Then thy straight rule, 442. The wretch is drench'd, 477. Then, Chloe, still, 462.. Then'tis our best, 125. The wretched have no country, 396. Then comes rosy health, 405. Then to her glass, 677. The wretched have no friends, 209. Then criticism the muse's, it6. Then to her new love, 152. The wretched slave, 481. Then crown my joys, 308. Then to his absent guest, 258. The yawning youth, 484. Then darklingly she pined, 653. Then to the well-trod stage, 144. The young minilia, 64. Then do not strike, 254. Then toils for beasts, 198. The young and gay, 330. Then doth th' aspiring, I24. Then unbeguile thyself, 37. The young are with us yet, 629. Then doth the wit, 649. Then vainly the philosopher, 268. The youngest in the morning, 300. Then down the precipice, 556. Then various elements, II3. The youngster, who at, 53. Then droop'd the fading, 19o. Then was your sin, 478. The youth, transported, 538. Then ease your weary, 470. Then, waving high, 609. The youth whose bark, 714. Then faith shall fail, i69. Then we must those, 99. The zephyrs floating, 439. Then fare thee well, 317. Then we talk'd, 544. Thee a ploughman, 31. Then fell upon the house, 129. Then when a fountain's, 620. Thee, bold Longinus, 52, II8. Then first adorn'd, 358. Then will I raise aloft, 194, 459. Thee I have miss'd, 25. Then, foaming tar, 259. Then with a second, 183. Thee shall each ale-house, 269. Then, fresh tears, 550. Then, with fire and hostile arms, 6t. Their airy limbs, 163. Then from the Mint, r84. Then, with no throbs, 129. Their ambush here, 295. Then, from the mountain, 47r. Then with some cordials, 405. Their angry hands, 99. Then from whate'er we can, II3. Then withdraw, 288. Their arms to the last, 609. Then future ages, 52. Then would be seen, 198. Their bulls they send, 29. Then'gan the Palmer, 393. Then, wrought into the soul, 6or. Their charms, if charms, 586. Then'gan triumphant, 37I. Then Youth came forward, 723. Their cheerful age, 407. Then grateful Greece, 463. Thence arts o'er all, 117. Their choice nobility, 43. Then grave Clarissa, 227. Thence shall come, 122. Their clattering arms, 612. Then, grown wanton, 330. Thence she them brought, 186. Their complot is to have, 397. Then,,happy low, 282. Thence to the famous, 156. Their copious stories, 544. Then happy those, 233. There a noble crew, 69. Their country's wealth, 621. Then he arriving, 220. There affectation, 19, 1o5. Their customs are by, 373. Then herbs of every leaf, i91. There are a crew, 403. Their difference to measure, 277. Then, higher, on the, 537. There are a kind of men, 489. Their discords sting, 49. Then horrid silence, 499. There are a sort, 646. Their feeble tongues, 270. Then, in filllage, 23. There are a thousand, 504. Their frugal father's, 666. Then, in plain prose, 6o. There are moments, 348. Their golden harps, 366. Then in the east, 539. There are more things, 401. Their heavenly harps, 365. Then is the soul a nature, 465. There are three things, 677. Their images, the relics, 473. Then is the soul from God, 508. There are to whom, 461. Their instruments were various, 365. Then laid him down, 574.'T'here are who, fondly, 30. Their king descending, 273. Then laughs the childish, i9o. There are, who to my, 5i. Their love in early, 96. Then, leaving in the fields, 260. There are, whom heav'n, 339. Their methods various, 197. Then let him, that my, 328. There, as they say, 376. Their minds are richly, 402. Then let me, fameless, o107. There at the toot, 497. Their morning milk, 28. Then let the greedy, 474. There, blest with health, 244. Their names inscribed, 173, Then let the learned, 219. There came wand'ring by, 241. Their navy swarms, 470. Then let.this dictate, 318. There can I sit alone, 142. Their number, counting, 515. Then let thy love, 321, 720. There Caxton slept, 84. Their only labour, 56o. Then let us fill, 299. There comes, 242. Their orators thou then, r57. Then let us pray, 698. There does a sable, 377. Their passions nmove, 196. Then, loathing life, 127. There doth my soul, 40. Their planetary motions, 45. Then might'st thou speak, 24I. There ev'ry eye, 48. Their prayers clad, 427. Then might'st thou tear tfiy hair, 233. There fall those, 286. Their purple majesty, 230. Then, mixing pow'rful, 338. There fields of light, 305. Their reason sleeps, 146. Then my days of dawning, 714. There fierce winds, 521. Their satire's praise, 461. Then no day, 407. There gentle sleep, 486. Their sickles reap, 31. Then none was-for a, 428. There grew a goodly, 215. Their standard, planted, 6i. Then, oh, you blessed, 394. There grew an aged, 579. Their steeds around, 258. Then old age, 23, 700. There groups of merry, 715. Their temples wreathed, I71. Then on a stately oak, 567. There grows, 6o. Their tribes adjusted, 8o. Then on to-morrow's, 274. There haply by the, x69. Their various cares, i86. Then party-colour'd flow'rs, i9o. There have been commissionls, 420. Their virtue, like their, 456. Then patient bear, 532. There have been wedlock's, 338. Their way, 199. Then peers grew proud, 259. There he stopp'd short, 57. Their weak heads, 466. Then pour out plaint, 82. There heroes' wits, 70. 776 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. There I'll rest, 247. There will I build him, 574- They around the flag, 6I3. There in close covert, 107. There will we sit, 74. They, as they move, 5I7. There in full opulence, I76. There youths and nymphs, 274. They at her coming, 192. There in the wondering, 579. Therefore if he needs, I24.- They bawl for freedom, 298. There, interspersed, 286. Therefore the poet, 370. They bore as heroes, 332. There is a calm for those, I3I. Therein he them, 26i. They bore him barefaced, 2I7. There is a calm, when Grief, 232. Therein she doth, 34I. They both'gan laugh, 679. There is a charm, 364. There's a dearth of wit, I43. They but preserve, 562. There is a God, 634. There's a hill by the, 567.'Ihey cannot read, 83. There is a history, 2i8, 646. There's joy when, 289. They cast to get, 273. There is a joy in worth, 698. There's matter in these, 504. They choose their magistrate, 276, There is a law, 293. There's merry laughter, 245. They closed beside the, 7I9. There is a lonely, 573. There's music in the forest leaves, 238. They comb, and then, 237. There is a mystery, 419. There's music, in the sighing, 364. They damn themselves, 1I5. There is a necessity, I78. There's no art, 92. They danced by starlight, 5I6. There is a pleasure in being, 267. There's no such thing as pleasure, 694. They dare not give, 209. There is a pleasure in the, 496. There's no such thing as that, 69. They did not leave, 4i8. There is a power, 40. There's no such thing in nature, 375, They do not love, 324. There is a Reaper, i29. 688. They drop apace,'2I3. There is a temple, 40. There's not a blessing, 8i. They empty head, I54. There is a tide, 205, 385. There's not a joy, 705. They ever do pretend, 699. There is a vice, 478. There's not a look, 239. They follow their, 6i. There is a vile, 662. There's nothing in this world, 304. They follow virtue, 597. There is a voice in the autumn, 605. There's some ill planet, 46. They gave and she transferr'd, 28I, There is a voice in the summer, 536. There's something in his soul, 345. They, gilding dirt, 400. There is a voice in the western, 5I4. There's such divinity, 282, 566. They give the reins, 400. There is a voice in the wintry, 642. Thereto when needed, 677. They give the scandal, Ix5. There is a wreath, 586. Theron, amongst his travels, 520. They give their bodies, 484. There is an art, 374- These are great maxims, 665. They gladly thither haste, 89. There is an evening, 588. These are my theme, 6io. I'hey go, commission'd, 398. There is betwixt, 35. These are nights, I67. They had no stomach, 429. There is no courage, 266. These are not dew-drops, 547. They had such firm, 434. There is no darkness, 232. These are the effects, 2I.'Ihey had th' especial, 202. There is no Death! I29. These are the labour'd, 409. They hail'd him father, 35. There is no flock, I29. These are the product, 339. They have, as who, 46. There is no future pang, 99. These are the realms, I77. They in most grave, 530. " There is no God," 500. These are they, 230. They in numbers, 539. There is no health, 245. These are thy glorious, 583. They in the scorner's, 276. There is no peace, 597. These are thy honours, 252. They know how fickle, i86, 309. There is no power, 292. These as thy guards, 44I. They lanced a vein, 402. There is none, 362. These be the sheaves, 25I. They leave the shady, 376. There.is none but he, 220. These black masks, 68. They left me then, I62. There is one within, 542. These blasted pines, 567. They list with women, 666. There is so hot a summer, 535. These both put by, 362. They long'd to see, 74. There is some soul, i62, 225. These bubbles of the shallowest, 667. They, looking back, 229. There is Strength, 20I. These delicacies, 75. They love the least, 321. There is such confusion, I57. These equal syllables, 684. They make marriage, 34I. There is thy gold, 224. These evils I deserve, 389. They may rail, 302. There lavish nature, 375. These external manners, 233. They meanly pilfer, 60. There let Hymen, 339. These eyes behold, I32. They might perceive his head, 241. There let the pealing, 367. These eyes that roll, 82. They mix a med'cine, 404. There, lives cannot, 586. These few. precepts, 349. They mock our scant, 30. There lives within, 32I. These great orbs, 5I9. They move, 366. There march'd the bard, 397. These hairs of age, 242. They never care how many, 607. There must be somewhere, 332. These hymns may, 649. They never taste, 545. There no dear glimpse, 537. These I wielded, 2a. They now assign, 38. There no vessel, 472. These, if the laws, 289. They often have reveal'd, IIo. There oft is found, 497. These, in two sable ringlets, 239. They often tread, 45I. There pause, 378. These kinds of knaves, 336 They open to themselves, 247. There rich varieties, 593. These leave the sense, II7. They parted as all lovers, 3X5. There Shakspeare, 47. These little things, 33x. They parted, ne'er to meet, 655. There shall be love, 356. These look like, 64. They pass their precious hours, 126o There shall he practise, 720. These now control, 4I9. They random drawings, 388. There she assembles, 52I. These outguards of the mind, 35I. They reason and conclude, 42. There should be hours, 489. These outward beauties, 309. They ring round, 529. There silver drops, 438. These plain characters, 92. They rise with fear, 282. There sits the shepherd, 54I. These pleasures, melancholy, 344. They roam, 624. There St. John mingles, 44I. These purple vests, I50. They rose as vigorous, 32. There stands a rock, 382. These reasons in love's, 44I. They said her cheek, 65. There stands a structure, 42. These redundant locks, 238. They sate recline, I9I. There stood a forest, i98. These scenes were wrought, ii6. They say best men, 445. There swims no goose, 339. These sentences to sugar, II9. They say this town, 2i8. There the coarse cake, i83. These signs have mark'd, 35. They seek that joy, 6I4. There the ever-blooming, i89. These spirits of sense, 246. They seem'd to fear, 382. There the snake throws, I68. These spiritual joys, 274. They set and rise, 377. There then we meet, 289. These thoughts he strove, 330o. They, short of succours, 6Io. There they shall, 4i8. These truths with his, 337. They sin who tell us, 326. There too, in living, 463. These violent delights, I40. They slept in peace, 426. There, too, my Paridel, 263. These, waving plots, I44. They smote the glistering armies, 6ii. There want not many, 577. These, when condensed, 437. They soon espoused, 337. There was a holy, 428. These, when death, I25. They spake not, 464. There was a soldier, 495. These when they praise, II7. They spied a country, Ic8. There was a time, 624. These will appear, 4I7. They steer'd their course, I32. There was a time in the, 72I. These, with the pride, II3. They sung no more, I72. There was a time when, 724. These women are, 675. They talk'd of virtue, 6oi. There was an ancient, 688. These wretched spies, II5. They that are to love, 329. There was on both sides, 276. They all our famed, 400. They that mean, 553. There were dark cedars, 568. They are as gentle, I94. They that on glorious, 36. There where the virgin's, 445. They are happy when, 508. They that stand high, 34, 23I. INDEX, OF FIRST LINZES. 777 They, the holy ones, 532. This dead of night, 378. This sov'reign passion, 34. They the tall mast, 47I. This discord is complete, 397. This stiff-neck'd pride, 430. They thought at first, 147. This distemper'd messenger, 550. This strength diffused, 238. They to the master-street, 2i6. This doctrine doth not, 372. This sun is set, 304. They touch'd their golden, 366. This done, our day, 340. This sweet intercourse, 316. They, vain expectants, 88. This done, she sung, 478. This the happy morn, 445. They varnish all their' errors, 262. This doth lead me, 68. This thin, this soft, 434. They view the windings, 453. This dream all-powerful, I47. This, this has thrown, 272. They ween'd, 34. This Duncan, 630. This three years day, 8i. They who reach, 57. This during winter's, 637. This'tis to have, 349. They will not stick, o58. This evening late, 0o7. This to rich Ophir's, 356. They wing'd their flight, 570. This fair defect, 629. This unhair'd sauciness, 607. They wish to live, 301. This fair vine, 575. This vast and solid, 333. They would assume, 98. This feather stirs, 304. This was the noblest. 397. They'll find i' the, 45. This fellow's wise enough, I97. This wavering world's, 690. They'll sit hy the fire, 341. This fond attachment, 249. This -woman, whom, 63I. They're fairies, x68. This foolish, dreaming, 049. This wonder of the, 463. They're pleased to hear, 275. This forced the stubborn'st, 287. This wond'red error, II4. They're thinking, hy his face, iio. This forehead, where, 67. This work goeth fast, 300. They've chose a consul, 299. This form before, 460. This world death's region, 029. Thicle around, 262. This fury fit, 608. This world I do renounce, 034. Thick as autumnal leaves, or, 99. This game the Persian, 95. This world is all, 694. Thick as autumnal leaves that, i99, This game, these carousals, 218. This world is but, 693. 574. This gentle knight, 512. This world is fiuil, 664. Thick woods and gloomy, 570. This grave advice, 526. This world,'tis true, 599. Thieves for their robbery, 276. This guest of summer, 78. This writer's want, 113. Thine be the laurel,'43. This heard, th' imperious, ixS. This yet I apprehend not, 290. Thine is a grief, 256. This heart shall break, 624. This yoke of marriage, 337. Thine is th' adventure, 203. This helm and heavy, 6io. This your all-licensed fool, 096. Things, 247. This hour is mine, I29. Thither shall all, 592. Things base and vile, 323. This hour's the very crisis, 302. Thither they bent, 470. Things done well, 89. This iron world, 352. Thither, where sinners, 449. Things not reveal'd, 223. This is an art, 375. Those closing skies, 232. Things of deep sense, 400. This is fair Diana's, 355. Those clouds that overcast, 50o. Things that love night, 523. This is folly, 96. Those comforts that, 2i8. Things thus set in order, 33. This is in thee, 345. Those drugs she has, 403. Things to their thought, 247. This is most strange, 425. Those enormous terrors, 456. Things without all remedy, 394, 446. This is not forgot, 20o. Those evening bells, 348. Think it not hard, 077. This is our thought, 504. Those eyes, i66. Think not,'cause men, 63. This is some fellow, 335. Those eyes, like lamps, i66. Think not my sense, 597. This is that very Mab, i68. Those eyes of thine, 550. Think not the good, 93. This is the curse, i62. Those fair ideas, 057. Think not thy friend, 306. This is the fairy land, i68. Those fierce inquisitors, II3. Think not to-morrow, I39. This is the great school, 527. Those fond sensations, 329. Think not, when woman's, 673. This is the night, 379. Those godlike men, 86. Think, O my sotul, 040. This is the state of man, 257, 333. Those governments which curb, 227. Think of all our miseries, 046. This is the utmost, 373. Those grateful groves, 455. Think of her worth, 35I. This is the very coinage, 264. Those green-robed senators, 572. Think on the storm, 520. This is the very ecstasy, 320. Those grizzled locks, 237. Think that the clearest gods, 253. This is the very painting, i8o. Those half-learn'd witlings, 652. Think then, my soul, 025. This is thy work, 436. Those happiest smiles, 494. Think, too, in what, 422. This is true glory, 278. Those heads, as stomachs, oi6. Think you a little dim, 545. This is what nature's, 400. Those just spirits, 479. Think you I bear, 079. This jest was first, 272. Those lazy owls, 75. Think you, if Laura, 47. This law, though custom, 373. Those lives they fail'd, 404. Thinklest thou, 307. This life is best, 3e4. Those loving papers, 425. Think'st thou existence, 556. This love'of theirs, 3`o, Those many had not dared, 293. Thirst and hunger, 303. This man is freed, 0o3. Those oft are stratagems, 50. This above all, 585. This man's brow, 85. Those other two, 073. This accident and flood, 204. This melancholy flatters, 344. Those rich perfiumes, 204. This act, 477. This might have been, 6i6. Those rules of old, 007. This advantage youth, 20. This mightier sound, 449. Those smiling eyes, i65. This also shall they gain, 290. This milky gentleness, 646. Those that by their deeds, 396. This Armado is a Spaniard, 85. This morning, lilke the, 360. Those that by their strict, 599. This aspect of mine, 323. This mournful truth, 422. Those that do teach, 95, 97. This attracts the soul, 509. This music crept, 369. Those that he loved, 033. This avarice, 60. This music mads me, 370. Those that I rev'rence, 646. This avarice of praise, 059. This my long-snffering, 227. Those that tame wild horses, 259. This battle fares, 360. This napkin; with his, 550. Those thousand decencies, 334. This bitter world, 692. This night, at least, 260. Those trifles wherein, 20. This bodes some strange, 420. This night shall see, 096. Those which only, 8i. This bond is forfeit, 292. This nightingale, their only, 7I. Those, with the fineness, 5Io. This bud of love, 322. This noble youth, 3II. Those with whom, 207. This busy power. 046. This not mistrust, 306. Those who aim, 453. This calls the church, 270. This nymph, to the, 239. Those who assert, 353. This calm'd his cares, 070. This only object. 033, 256. Those who have homes, 249. This carol they began, 304. This our life, io8. Those who to empire, 33. This casket India's, 273. This plant Latinus, 569. Those who wear the woodbine, 605. This cause detained me, 709. This pow'r is*ense, 465. Those who would never, 85. This city never felt, 075. This punishment pursues, 237' Those whom form of laws, 275. This civil war of wits, 85. This quell'd her pride, 303'. Thou, 130, 242. This clears the cloudy, 659. This royal fair, 70. Thou all-shaking, 523. This course of vanity, 593. This ring, 321. Thou almost mak'st, 5Io. This cursed quarrel, 629. This rudeness is a sauce, 335. Thou art a slave, 204. This day black omens, 079, 673. This sad experience, 063. Thou art an elm, 340. This day I breathed, 036. This seems to our, 645. Thou art bearing, 534. This day then let us, 25. This selected piece, 56i. Thou art pale, 526. This day's ensample, 82. This shadowy desert, 200. Thou art sworn, 465. This dead of midnight, 376. This sleep is soqnd, 488. Thou askest what hath, 669. 778 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Thou attended gloriously, I22. Though Heaven's inauspicious, 308. Through the verdant, i09. Thou, best of gold, 403. Tho' I am forced, i8. Through these sad shades, 345. Thou canst not be so pleased, 298. Though 1 am old, 270. Through this house, I68. Thou dost protest, 337. Though I cannot make, 616. Through threaten'd lands, 427. Thou dost the prayers, 428. Though its error, 53. Through various hazards, I97. Thou, faint god, 482. Though justice be thy plea, 279. Through whim (our critics), II4. Thou for the testimony, 584. Though learn'd, well bred, 297. Through winter streets, 637. Thou, full of days, 23. Though long the wanderer, 562. Through wise handling, 270. Thou, gentle Spring, 5I3. Though my heart's content, i66. Throughout the world, 686. Thou glorious mirror, 382. Though no stone tell, 125. Throw hither all, 192. Thou, happy creature, 27I. Though now this grained, 24. Thus affable and mild, 335. Thou hast a charmed, 668. Though plunged in ills, 202. Thus apple-trees, 214. Thou hast beat me out, I49. Though poets may of, 414. Thus are my eyes, i66. Thou hast been called, 49I. Though sages may, 406. Thus at half-ebb, 187. Thou hast by moonlight, 326, 355. Though short my stature, I73. Thus beginning, thus, 391. Thou hast deserved, 3I3. Though sight be lost, 82. Thus Bethel spoke, 554. Thou hast finish'd, I35. Though slaves, like birds, 55. Thus, born alike, 35. Thou hast given me, 322. Though sluggards deem it, 562. Thus boys hatch, 74. Thou hast made my curdled, 237. Though some of you, 478. Thus, by degrees, 230. Thou hast no faults, 308. Though sparing of his grace, 224. Thus children do, 79. Thou hast not youth, 23. Though sprightly, gentle, 331. Thus conscience does, 478. Thou hast prevaricated, 263. Though still some traces, 4Io. Thus critics of less judgment, IIr. Thou hast slain, 98. Though temptations, 552. Thus daily changing, 20. Thou heav'n's alternate, 357. Though the offending part, 283. Thus died, lamented, 627. Thou heedful of advice, 19. Though the same sun, 273. Thus do all traitors, 566. Thou hop'st with sacrifice, 28. Though the transient spring, 7I5. Thus done the tales, 486. Thou hung'st the solid, I13. Though they the lines, 120. Thus droops this lofty, 577. Thou in thy secrecy, 497. Though Tiber's streams, 456. Thus ever, when I, 495. Thou, Julia, thou hast, 322. Though train'd in arms, 3I5. Thus fame shall be achiev'd, I73. Thou king of horned floods, 28. Though triumphs were, 6I4. Thus fell the trees, 57I. Thou, Kneller, long, 387. Though truths in manhood, 516. Thus fights Ulysses, 61. Thou know'st a face, 308. Though various features, 227. Thus flourish'd love, 49. Thou know'st it is, 306. Though varying wishes, 394. Thus from the time, 645. Thou magic lyre, 568. Though well we may not, 292. Thus grief still treads, 337. Thou mak'st the night, 380. Though winds do rage, 525. Thus hath'the course, 349. Thou marry'st every year, 7I. Though wisdom wake, 644. Thus heavenly hope, 255. Thou mastful beech, 568. Though wond'ring senates, 26I. Thus her blind sister, 204. Thou may'st conceal, I02. Though you, and all, 25. Thus I clothe, 463. Thou more than stone, 223. Though you untie, 523. Thus in a circle, 464. Thou must outlive, 22. Thought following thought, 343. Thus in a sea, I96. Thou, nature, art my, 375. Thought in the mind, 554, 686. Thus in a starry night, 520. Thou oft hast seen me, 415. Thought, to the man, 554. Thus in soft anguish, 450. Thou on nly head, 715. Thoughtful of gain, 6;. Thus in my summer, 257. Thou open'st wisdom's, 645. Thoughtless as monarch oaks, 569. Thus it shall befall, 671. Thou runaway, iiI. Thoughts which at Hyde-park, 498. Thus Lamb, renown'd, 405. Thou say'st his meat, 341. Thousand'scapes of wit, I48. Thus let me hold, 449. Thou scorner of all cities, 694. Thousands there are, 609. Thus let me live, 498. Thou seest, we are not, 696. Thousands were there, 139. Thus long-succeeding, 292. Thou shalt not lack, 194. Three blust'ring nights, 473. Thus look'd he proudly, 287. Thou shalt not long, 518. Three crabbed months, 326. Thus man by his, 462. Thou shalt not see me, 246. Three glorious suns, 54I. Thus mean in state, I87. Thou'shalt secure, 338. Three hundred horses, 258. Thus nature gives us, 599. Thou sov'reign pow'r, 223. Three or four suits, I50. Thus, night, oft see, 357. Thou sparkling bowl, 269. Three poets, in three, 48, 412. Thus o'er the dying lamp, I23. Thou, stronger, may'st, 305. Three ships were hurried, 473. Thus of your heroes, i85. Thou sun! of this great, 539. Thrice call upon, I27. Thus on some silver, 73. Thou tell'st me, I65. Thrice from the banks, 457. Thus on the chill, 5II. Thou temptest me, 553. Thrice happy Duck, 54. Thus others we, 480. Thou that canst, 427. Thrice happy he who, 497. Thus out of season, 380. Thou that to passe, 564. Thrice happy he whose, 718. Thus pass'd the night, 357. Thou thinkest much, 523. Thrice happy if they know, 243. Thus peaceful rests, I59. Thou thought'st to help, I36. Thrice happy is that, 342. Thus Pegasus, a nearer, 4I0. Thou, thyself, thus, 481. Thrice happy they, io6. Thus pencils can, 387. Thou wast not born, 74. Thrice happy were, 403. Thus pleasures fade, 23. Thou weepest for a sister, 623. Thrice happy world, 248. Thus radiant from, 353. Thou wert my guide, 2Io. Thrice horse and foot, 363. Thus reputation is, 649. Thou who for me, 445. Thrice, oh, thrice, 468. Thus saved from death, 475. Thou whom avenging, I23. Thrice round the ship, 473. Thus solitary, and in, 499. Thou, with rebel, 443. Thrice the equinoctial, 377. Thus some retire, 656. Thou with scorn, 38. Thriftless ambition, 35. Thus states were form'd, 281. Thou wouldst be great, 35. Through all the air, 505. Thus sung the shepherds, 378. Thou:lt fall into deception, I38. Through all the changes, 697. Thus sting the uncouth, 358, Thou'lt say anon, 424. Through all the soil, 25. Thus tender Spenser, 50. Though absent, present, 5o8. Through cunning, 33. Thus the mercury, 332. Though all our ligaments, I25. Through days of sorrow, 557. Thus the sire of gods, 261. Though all things foul, 227. Through forests huge, 200. Thus the voluptuous, 183. Though at times, 256. Through groves of paint, 576. Thus the wise nightingale, 8I. Though bold in open field, 614. Through her flesh, 506. Thus then my loved, 21. Though cheats, yet more, 45. Through it the joyful, 469. Thus they joy on, 143Though cheerfulness and I, 366. Through knowledge we behold, II3. Thus think the crowd, 399. Though divine Plato, 407. Through nature, 227. Thus till the sun, 540. Though duller thoughts, 82. Through seas of knowledge, 283. Thus unlamented, 431. Though far above, 230. Through tatter'd clothes, I53. Thus unlamented pass, 216. Though fear should lend, i8o. Through the hall, I86. Thus we act, 256. Though few the days, 494. Through the hush'd air, 642. Thus we well left, I23. Though fools spurn Hymen's, 337. Through the mid seas, 47I. Thus weeping urges, 624. Though gay as mirth, 54.. Through the plains, 122. Thus while God spake, 222. Though he in all, 230. Through the shadow, 696. Thus while I wondering, 561. Though heav'n be shut, 247. Through the soft silence, 8o. Thus while the mute creation, 246. IrVDEX OF EkIRST JINES. 779 Thus wisely careless, 266. Till as the earthly, 133.'Tis in life, 388. Thus wisely she makes, 7Io. Till by one countless, 303.'Tis law, though custom, 289. Thus with imagined, 554. Till critics blame, 220.'Tis less to conquer, 398. Thus with the year, 82. Till fate shall with, 314.'Tis like the milky, 5I5. Thus woe succeeds, 657. Till from the straw, 582.'Tis listening fear, 525. Thus wore out night, 358. Till future infancy, 23.'Tis long disputed, 4i3. Thus yields the cedar, 577. Till grosser atoms, 246.'Tis long ere time, 232. Thus you may still, 104. Till length of years, 22.'Tis merry in greenwood, 577. Thy abundance wants, 2i4. Till, like ripe fruit, I30o.'Tis more to guide, 117. Thy arms pursue, I74. Till now thy soul, 503.'Tis morning, and the sun, 376. Thy beauty appears, 37. Till old experience, 163.'Tis most true, 343. Thy beauty,-not a fault, 238. Till taught by pain, 6i9.'Tis necessary he should, 35o. Thy better soul, 170. Till the day, 122.'Tis no less, 226. Thy blood and virtue, 6o0. Till the huge surge, 384.'Tis noon: against the, 576. Thy bones are marrowless, i65. Till the injurious, 41o.'Tis not a lip, 66. Thy constant quiet, 274, 449. Till the tears, 549.'Tis not amiss, 342. Thy corn thou there, 3o. Till then, a helpless, 206.'Tis not courage, 533. Thy country, Wilberforce, 725. Till thou canst rail, 292.'Tis not enough your counsel, 2I9, Thy cruel and unnatural, 34. Till through those clouds, 283. 334, 585. Thy death-bed is, I36. Time, by necessity comnpell'd, 248.'Tis not ever, 294. Thy downcast loolks, 177. Time doth transfix, 720.'Tis not from whom, 231. Thy due from me, 97. Time drives the flocks, 467.'Tis not in folly not, i97. Thy ear, inured to, 6o5. Time flies, death urges, 139.'Tis not in Hymen's, 629. Thy even thoughts, 530. Time flows from instants, 555.'Tis not in mortals, 53I. Thy eyes are seen, 164. Time glides with, 556.'Tis not indeed, 56. Thy eyes that were, I64. Time has made, 21.'Tis not my talent, 142, 262. Thy eyes' windows fall, I35. Time l I dare thee, 324.'Tis not the coarser tie, 294. Thy father's merit, 350, 389. Time, in advance, 561.'Tis not the Stoic's, 133. Thy first-fruits, 409. Time is like a, 559.'Tis not the trial, 676. Thy force alone, 382. Time is lost, 55-6.'Tis not the whole, 302. Thy forests, Windsor, 199. Time, place, and action, 220.'Tis not thy terrors, 643. Thy gen'rous fruits, i5S. Time rolls his ceaseless, 133.'Tis not to any, 597. Thy gentle eyes, 133. Time seems not now, 21, 556.'Tis not to cry, 445. Thy grandsire loved thee well, 121. Time sensibly all things, 558.'Tis not yet too late, 648. Thy grave shall with, 458. Time shall unfold, 263, 477.'Tis now the hour, 484. Thy hair so bristles, 237. Time still, as he flies, 671.'Tis now the very, 379. Thy hand, great Dalness, 154. Tinie, that changes, 508.'Tis our first intent, 24, 134. Thy hand o'er towns, 216. Time, the prime, 557.'Tis ours y craft. Thy hand strikes out, I"7. Time, thou anticipat'st, 39.'Tis plate of rare, 273. Thy heart no ruder, 37'. Time l thou destroyest, 555.'Tis pleasant safely, 407. Thy htumorous vein, 345. Time, though in eternity, 557.'Tis pleasant sure, 55. Thy husband commits, 262. Time! time! in thy, 555.'Tis pleasant through, 690. Thy husband is thy lord, 633. Time to me this truth, 685.'Tis policy, 565. Thy immortal rhyme, 409. Time wasted is existence, 56i.'Tis Reason's part, 440. Thy knotted and combined locks, 241. Time l where didst thou, 557.'Tlis remarkable, that they, o04. Thy life, Melantius, 566. Time, which made them, 47. "'Tis safer to be, 274. Thy little brethren, 95. Time's wing but seem'd, 557,'Tis slander whose, 480. Thy little sons, 192. Timely advised, 448.'Tis something for, 686. Thy locks uncomb'd, 237. Timon hath made, 384.'Tis spring-time, 514. Thy love, still arm'd, 315. Tired nature's sweet, 493.'Tis still the same, 409. Thy muse too long, 327.'Tis a common proof, 34.'Tis strange the miser, 60. Thy nags, the leanest, 259.'Tis a month before, 522.'Tis sweet, as year by year. 2i6. Thy name affrights me, 181'"lis a very good world, 694.'Tis sweet the blhshing, 357. Thy name, to Phoebus, 56.'Tis'all men's office, 394.'Tis sweet'to hear, 249. Thy noble shape,'333.'Tis an old maxim, 289, 593.'Tis the-Divinity, 16o. Thy numbers, Jealousy, 27I.'Tis beautiful to see, 574.'Tis the first sanction, 280. Thy place in council, 420.'Tis beauty truly blent, 68.'Tis the merry nightingale, 72. Thy place is here, 318.'Tis best sominetimes, ii9.'Tis the mind that makes, 152. Thy praise or dispraise, 424.'Tis better to be lowly, 503.'Tis the most certain, 690. Thy presence only, 449.'Tis better to have loved, 328.'Tis the procession of, 289, 629. Thy pride, 43I.'Tis burnt, and so is all, i85.'Tis the summer prime, 535Thy promises are like, 220.'Tis dangerous tampering, 422.'Tis the sunset oflife, 20. T'hy punishment, 444.'Tis disingenuous to accuse, 440.'Tis then that with delight, 319. Thy purpose firm, 226.'Tis distance lends enchantment, 254.'Tis these that early, 105. Thy relicks, Rowe, 52, i6o.'Tis done, and since, 38i.'Tis thine to curb, 668. Thy rise of fortune, 204.'Tis done! dread winter, 64I. Tis thine to ruin, 209. Thy shape's in ev'ry part, 463.'Tis easier for the generous, 201.'Tis thine, whate'er is, 434. Thy sight, which should, 55o.'Tis education forms, 156.'Tis time short, 407. Thy sin's not accidental, 477.'Tis ever common, 352.'Tis time to give them, 403, Thy songs are sweeter, 499.'Tis ever thus, Ioo.'Tis true (as the old proverb, 334. Thy statue, Venus, 463.''Tis every painter's art, 387.'Tis true, but let it not,'i66. Thy sumptuous buildings, 252.'Tis expectation makes, I63.'Tis true from force, 280. Thy thoughts to nobler, 228.'Tis fate that flings, 178.'Tis true no turbots, 187. Thy throne is darkness, 169, 222.'Tis from high life, 92.'Tis use alone, 33o. Thy tunefill voice, 478.'Tis fustian all, ii5.'Tis usual now, 214. Thy unoffending life, 227.'Tis gold so pure, 223.'Tis vain to call, 6oi. Thy unripe youth, 722.'Tis good for arable, 26.'Tis vain to think, 596. Thy words, 367.'Tis good to be merry, 350.'Tis virtue which, 598. Thy words had such, 257, 683.'Tis granted, and no, 707.'Tis well to give honour, 707. Thy words like music, 368.'Tis great,'tis manly, iio.'Tis Winter now, 635. Thy words shoot through, 306.'Tis greatly wise, 25, 343, 394.'Tis winter, yet, 637. Thy years want wit, 335.'Tis hard to say, 57, 229.'Tis wisdom to beware, 552. Thy younglings, Cuddy, 74.'Tis hard where dulness, 466.'Tis with our judgments, 277. Thyrsis? whose artful, 367, 479, 499.'Tis holyday, 182.'Tis with our souls, 242. Thyself but dust, 333.'Tis ill, though different, 6ii.'Tin you alone, 433. Tie uip the libertine, 185.'Tis immortality, 265.'Tis your graces, ioi. Tiger with tiger, 618.'Tis impotent, 393. To a mind, 353. Tigers and wolves, 250.'Tis in books the chief, 83. To add what wants, 671. Till all the hundred, 535.'Tis in her heart, 32o. To after-age, 529. 780 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. To all married men, 338. To me belongs, 480. To threats the stubborn, 349. To all obliging, 329. To me he came, 433. To thy husband's will, 631. To all their dated backs, 84 To me, more dear, 373. To thy wishes move, 126. To all, to each, I48. To me pertains, 3I9. To tongue or pudding, 297. To attain, 223. To me reproach, I42. To train the foliage, 678. To be furious, 77. To me (sad maid, IIo. To tyrants others, 417. To be imprison'd, I34. To me the cries, 6ii. To wail friends lost, 2I2. To be in love, 323. To me the meanest, 196. To wake the soul, 43. To be! or, Not to be, 533. To me the world's, 694. To weep with them, 503. To be resign'd, 449. To measure life, 302. To what base ends, 424. To be worst, 257. To-morrow, and to-morrow, I34, 56i. To what can I be, 22. To bear is to conquer, I77. To-morrow comes, 132. To what gulfs, 154. To bed, to bed, 490. To morrow, ere fresh, 358. To what new clime, 210. To believe his wiles, 584. To-morrow in the battle, 62, I4I. To worthiest things, 372, 596. To bliss unknown, 82. To-morrow you will, 56I. To write what may, 58. To boyhood hope, 7II. To my dear equal, 2II. To you I mourn, 479. To breed up the son, I55. To myself I owe, 3I3. To your glad genius, 220. To build, to plant, 3I, 374. To nearest ports, 469. Together let ius beat, 261. To Cato, Virgil paid, 53. To-night the poets, 412. Together out they fly, 585. To check the starts, 476. To-night the winds, 524. Tongued like the night-crow, 7I. To coxcombs averse, 387. To observations which, II9. Too curious man, 2I7. To crows he like, 72. To one who has been, I07. Too early seen, 323. To cure their mad, 34. To overcome in battle, 6I3. Too justly ravish'd, I26. To dally thus, 137. To part her time, 440. Too late I stay'd, 56o. To dare that death, I27. To pass the riper period, 89. Too many giddy, i96. To-day he puts forth, 83. To pass their lives, I67. Too much sadness, 460. To-day is ours, 56I. To peaceful Rome, 289. Too nicely Jonson, 47. To death I with, I25. To persevere, 233, 363. Too plain thy nakedness, 257. To die by thee, I34. To persist, 700. Too plenteous fountains, 205. To die is landing, I28. To'pothecaries, 404. Too secure, because; 130. To die-to sleep, I34. To pray'r, repentance, 427. Too truly Tamerlane's, 33. To distant lands, 563. To purchase heaven, 224. Tormented with a grief, 496. To do thee honour, 294. To quell the tyrant, 306. Torrents and loud, go. To dream once more, I48. To raw numbers, 528. Touch me with noble, 550o. To dress the vines, 28. To recount almighty, II2. Touch us gently, 556. To each his sufferings, 50I. To rest, the cushion, 430. Tough thistles choked, 27. To ease her cares, 49I. To rest the weary, 280.' Towers and battlements, 574. To ease the soul, 345. To rise i' th' world, 434. Towns, forests, herds, I33. To ease them of, 304. To roam, 562. Tow'rds him I made, 200. To elder years, 20. To scatter plenty, 396. Trade it may help, 224. To erase it with, 605. To see some radiant, I53. Trade which, like blood, 206. To every doubt, I42. To see the tears, 548. Traditions were a proof, 446. To every duty, i55. To sense'tis gross, 320. Tragedy should blush, I45. To failings mild, 246. To shake with laughter, i88. Trailing clouds of glory, 97. To famed Apelles, 464. To sharp-eyed reason, 44I. Tranio, I burn, 322. To fear the foe, I8o. To shun th' allurement, 552. Transported demi-gods, 22I. To fear thy pow'r, 647. To sicken waning, 354. Treading the path, 397. To feastful mirth, I84. To sing thy praise, 423. Treason and murder, 566. To feed were best, i86. To sleep I give, 49I. Treason doth never prosper, 565. To feel that we adore, 3I6. To sleep; perchance, 149. Treasons are acted, 565. To find a foe, 398. To so perverse a sex, 666. Trees both in hills, 581. To find an honest man, 25I. To some kind of men, 228. Trees on trees o'erthrown, 576. To fit my sullenness, 528. To some new clime, 596. Trees rudely hollow'd, 469. To follow foolish, 275. To sorrow abandon'd, 392. Trent shall not, 457. To full bowls, 269. To souls oppress'd, 37I. Triflers not ev'n, 582. To give religion, 287. To sounds of heav'nly, 368. Trifles, light as air, 272. To gloomy cares, 89. To sow a jangling, 529. Trifles themselves, 335. To glory some advance, 222. To speak one thing, 530. Triumph, to be styled, 6I3. To guide its actions, 646.,, " To speak truth, 392. Triumphant flames, 470. To happy convents, 215. To statesmen would you, 85. Triumphing tories, 421. To havereveal'd, 464. To study nature, 373. Troy flam'd, 224. To hear his soothing, 667. To Summer's dawn, 535. True be thy words, 62. To hear the lark, 75. To swear he saw, 288. True Christianity, 446. To hear thy rhymes, 479. To teach vain wits, 65I. True conscious honour, 266. To her grim death, I25. To tell them would, 651. True constancy, 3I4. To her laws, 294. To tell thy mis'ries, 2II. True courtiers, 407. To her the shady grove, Io7. To that dauntless temper, 592. True dignity, 252. To her the weeping, 3I2. To that great spring, 222. True earnest sorrows, soi. To him experienced, 502. To the great dons, 650. True ease in writing, 529. To him, to him'tis giv'n, 445. I'o the harness'd yoke, 32. True expression, 529. To him your orchard's, 225. To the infinitely Good, 222. True faith and reason, 442. To his county farm, 28. To the late revel, I48. True fortitude is seen, 20I. To his green years, 9go. To the limpid stream, 359. True friends appear, 2ii. To his laborious youth, 6i5. To the noble mind, 59I. True friendship's laws, 260. To his music, plants, 5I3. To the same notes, 487. True genius, but true, 663. To isles of fragrance, 193. To the soul time, 507. True happiness, 209. 1'o just contempt, 263. To the stage permit, 183. True happiness (if understood), 244. To keep that oath, 380. To the sylvan lodge, I9I. True happiness is not, 244. To kill man-killers, 288. To the well-lung'd, 243. True he it said, 327. To know, to esteem, 299, 390. To the world, 423. True hope is swift, 257. To lapse in fiulness, I70. To thee alone, 275. True love's a miser, 3I4. To laugh were want, 286. To thee I do commend, 428, 490. True piety without, 445. To leafless shrubs, 576. To them the deep, 690. True poets are, 4I4. To live uprightly, 30I. To these high pow'rs, 50o6. True poets empty, 4I3. To lose these years, 246. To this false foreigner, 4I7. True self-love, 465. To love an altar, 84. To this great fairy, i68. True to his charge, 252. To make baskets, i87. To this great loss, 552. True valour, 592. To make man mild, 299. To this sad shrine, i6o. True virtues, with, 600. To make the rough, 4I0. To those who know thee, 683. True wisdom must, 644. INAVDEX OF FIRST LINES. 781 True wit is everlasting, 648. Under this stone, I60. Vain, very vain, 82. True wit is nature, 650. Underneath this sable, 159. Valiant fools, 4I9. True Witney broadcloth, I5I. Underneath this stone, I59, 381. Valiant Talbot, 616. True worth shall gain, 666. Uneasy still within, 28. Vane, young in years, 418. Trumpet once more, I22. Unequal task, 200. Vanessa, though by, 328. Trust me, no tortures; IOQ. Unerring Nature, 374. Vanquish again, 221. Trust not a man, 332. Unfading hope, 254. Variety's the source, 593. Trust not my reading, 163. Unfit fdr greatness, 102. Various discussions, 554. Trust not the physician, 405. Unfledged actors, I44. Various of numbers, 529. Trust not those, 550. Unforced with punishment, 250. Various of temper, 593. Trust not to rotten, 472. Unfold, 509. Various the trees, 572. Trust not too much, 65, 67..- Unhappy Dryden, 5i. Vast and great, 384. Trust not yourself, 210. Unhappy, from whom, 342. Vast chain of being, 332. Trusting ill God, 668. Unhappy he, 498. Vast is my theme, 528. Trutlvand fiction, I86. Unhappy man, 288, 372. Vein-healing vervain, 343. Truth, and peace, 584. Unhappy sex, 666. Vengeance is in my heart, 594, Truth crush'd to earth, 5g3. Unhappy slave, 124.. Venitians do not more, 258. Truth forever on the scaffold, 700. Unhappy that I am, 32I. Vent all thy passion, 38I. Truth from his lips, 430. Unhappy wit, like, 650. Venture not rashly, 533. Truth is fair, 582. Unhelp'd I am, 406. Venus her myrtle, 186. Truth, like a single point, 585. United by this, 543. Venus! take my votive, 67. Truth, modesty, and shame, 583. Unjust eqnal, 418. Verse makes heroic, 4II. Truth needs no flowers, 585. Unjustly poets, 413. Verse sweetens toil, 409. Truth would you teach, 585. Unkind and cruel, 383. Verses are the potent, 4II. Try to imprison, 234. Unknit that threat'ning, 38. Vex not his ghost, 135. Tuck back thy hair, 240. Unlabour'd harvests, 245. Vexation almost stops, I34. T' unload the branches, 28. Unlearn'd, he knew, 529. Vexatious thought, 345. Tune your harps, 365. Unless a love, 460. Vex'd sailors curse, 439. Turn him to any, 420. Unless an age too late, 98. Vex'd with the present, 2i8. Turnus, for high descent, 227. Unless thou find occasion, 545. Vice is a monster, 595. Tuscan Valerius, I7I. Unlicensed to eternity, 533. View not this spire, 42, 142.'Twas a lovely thought, 19i. Unlike the niceness, 667. View the wide earth, i98.'Twas ebbing darkness, 356. Ulysses let no, 419. View well this tree, 570.'Twas fit, 654. Ulysses veil'd his pensive, 502. Vile is the vengeance, I58.'Twas grief no more, 232, 437.'Umbriel, a dusky, 345. Vile shrubs are shorn, 570.'Twas no false heraldry, 35. Unmindful of the crown, S98. Virgins visited, 38.'Twas not long, 9I. Unmuffle, ye faint stars, 377, 5I8. Virtue could see, 598.'Twas not the hasty, 644. Unnatural deeds, 447. Virtue, dear friend, 600.'Twas pretty, though a, 68, 325. Unnumber'd birds, 76. Virtue, disdain, 597.'Twas when the dog-star's, 535. Unnumber'd fruits, 215. Virtue given for lost, 598.'Twas you incensed, 420. Unpurchased plenty, i82. Virtue hath some, 399. Twelve long years, 562. Unripe fruit, 2I6. Virtue! how many, 596. Twelve mules, a strong, 32. Unsafe within the wind, 518. Virtue is bold, 600. Twelve swans behold, 74. Unsettled virtue, 596. Virtue is the roughest, 6or. l'were well with most, 83. Unskilful he, 430. Virtue itself'scapes not, 88.'Twere well your judgments, 144. Unskill'd in schemes, 45, 6o9. Virtue itself turns vice, 600. Twice ten tempestuous, 522. Unthinking fool, 66D. Virtue may be assail'd, 598. Twilight gray, 588. Until with subtle, 287. Virtue, not rolling suns, 25. Twilight's soft dews, 590. Untwisting all, 367. Virtue only makes, 599.'Twixt kings and tyrants, 28i. Unvex'd with thoughts, o02. Virtue she finds, 599. Two battles your, 6i. Unwilling I forsook, I78. Virtue sole survives, 6oi. Two deep enemies, 488. Unwilling then in arms, 6I5. Virtue, the strength, 596. Two eagles, 7I. Unworthy wretch, 222. Virtue, to crown, 6oo. Two fools that crutch, II5. Up a grove did spring, 80. Virtue which breaks, 598. Two gates the silent, 484. Up grew the twig, 578. Virtue without success, 53I. Two mnagnets, heav'n, 82. Up into the watch-tower, 88. Virtues like these, 372. Two neighbouring trees, 569. Up springs the lark, 8o. Virtuous and vicious, 92, 599. Two other precious drops, 548. Up starts a palace, i99. Visit by night, 370. Two paths lead upward, 592. Up then, Melpomene, 363. Visits, plays, 70. Two planets rushing, 46. Up, up! cries gluttony, I84. Vital powers'gan wax, 492.'Twould be some solace, 574. Up, utp, fair bride, 87. Voice after voice, i67. Tyrant custom, 221. Up, up, says Avarice, 59. Voice of the viewless, 602. T'ysiphone there keeps, 127. Upon her eyelids, 69. Volumes on shelter'd, 84, 439. Upon her face, 232. Voracious learning, 297. Upon his royal face, 6i6. Vouchsafe, bright moon, 355. U. Upon my knees, 322. Vouchsafe, illustrious, 63. Upon the deck, 6io. Vouchsafe the means, 594. Unbidden earth, 5I2. Uprose the virgin, 359. Vulgar parents cannot, 36. Unbind the charms, i86. Upward the noble bird, 76. Unblamed through life, 132. Urge him with truth, 645. Unblemish'd let me live, 173. Urge them, while, 447. W. Unbounded power, 28i. Urge your success, 320. Uncertain and unsettled, 84. Urged by thee, I turn'd, 599. Wait thou for Time, 557. Uncertain ways, I40. Use may revive, 685. Waiting till willing, 470. Uncertain whose, 439. Useful, we grant, 224. Waking in Eden, 667. Uncharitably withme, 257. Usher'd with a shower, 438. Walk thoughtful, 554. Uncomely courage, IIo. Utterers of secrets, 465. Waller was smooth, 53. Unconquer'd yet, 109. Walntuts the fruit'rer's, 224. Unconscious causes, 2II. Wand'ring from clime, 564. Under a tuft, 205. V. Wand'ring in the dark, 404. Under foot the violet, I9I. Waning moons, 353. Under heavy arms, 563. Vain are their hopes, 35. Want is a bitter, 422. Under his forming, 67I. Vain human kind, 333. Want sharpens poetry, 74. Under some concourse, 574. Vain man, forbear, 88. Wanting the scissors, 240. Under southern skies, 471. Vain man I to be so, 305. War, and luxury, 330. Under the colour, 322. Vain men, how vanishing, 33I. War brings ruin, 70. Under the cooling shadow, 567. Vain now the tales, 4I4. War, he sung, is toil, 6ix. Under the shadow, 89. Vain privilege, 666. War, horrid war, 6I4. Under the shady roof, 5i8. Vain show and noise, 593. War is honourable, 607. 782 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Warn'd by the sylph, 318. We shall be winnow'd, 225. Westward a pompous, 41. Wars have not wasted it, 616. We shall meet, 242. What a bright, blessed hour, 603. Wars, hitherto the only, 6I3. We shall use them, 350. What a point, 77. Wars'twixt you twain, 6I7. We shorten'd days, 328. What a state is guilt, 234. Was ever book, 85. We should profane, 2I7. What a world were this, I36. Was ever criminal, 289. We show our present, 274. What admir'st thou, 66. Was ever woman, 676. We sicken soon, 502. What aim'st thou at, I83. Was I for this, 475. We smile at florists, r96. What am I, i12. Was it his youth, 3Io; We sometimes wrangle, 42. What ambitious fools, 120. Was naught around, 492. We stand among the fallen, 575, 7I8. What and if, 503. Was never man who, 6i8. We still have slept, 2II. What are fears, 182. Was not thy father, 566. We system-makers, 306. What are husbands, 262. Was plighted faith, 3I3. We, that acquaint, 507. What are the falling rills, I07. Was this a face, 523. We, that are of purer, 5I7. What are these, 334. Waste in wild riot, 89. We that know, 427. What are thy rents, go. Waste sandy valleys, 576. We, that measure, 556. What armies conquer'd, 6I2. Wasting years that, 22. We thought our sires, 709. What art thou, Freedom, 207. Watch the disease, 402. We took up arms, 205. What art thou, thou, go. Watch thou, and wake, 42I. We toss and turn about, 243. What at first, 52I. Watching to banish, 49I. We trepann'd the state, 4I5. What avails it, 4I. Water and air, 364. We turn, 457. What awe did the, 2I7. Water in conduit-pipes, 6I9. We turn'd o'er many books, 85. What beauties does, 458. Wave rolling after, 383. We walk in dreams, 146. What besides, 501. Waving wide, 398. We were, 7I9. What better can we do, 389. WVayward beauty, 314. We were dead asleep, 490. What black magician, 93. We are but farmers, 122. We will be with you, 356. What bliss, what wealth, 89. We at the sad, I33. We work by wit, 652. What boots it to weep, 234. We bear it calmly, i9. We'll mutually forget, 20. What boots the oft-repeated, 607. We beseech yotu, 94. We'll no more meet, 97. What brought you, 383. We bid this be done, 436. We'll see what cates, 495. What but God, I13. We, by rightfiul, 444. We'll teach him to know, 79. What can atone, 19g. We can ne'er, 386. We're both love's, 313. What can ennoble fools, 699. We cannot fight, 676. We're not ourselves, 346. What can I pay thee, 229. We cannot hold, 134. We're not the first, 204. What can innocence, 290. We charge you, 398. Weak and irresolute, 594. What can thy imagery, 498. We conquer'd France, 44. Weak, foolish man, 332. What can thy mind, 563. We created with, 211. Weak soul, 246. What cause, x12. We debase, 4T9. Weak though'I am, 405. What clangs were heard, 6Io. We drove afield, 378. Wealth in the gross, 62I. What cloud is this, 686. We eat our meat, 149. Wearied, forsaken, Io9. What concern they, 233. We fairies that do run, i68. Weariness, 488. What controlling cause, 372. We find in sullen, 648. Wedded love is founded, 338. What could the head, 488. We follow fate, I78. Wedlock's a saucy, 342. What could thus high, 58. We found the hero, 248. Wee, modest, i89.. What courage tamely, IIo. We grant, although, 648. Weep not for him, I3I, 623. What crops of wit, 652. We happiness pursue, 244- Weep not for those, I31, 7I7. What crowds of patients, 404. We have all our, 595. Weep on, weep on, 623. What crowds of these, 414. We have been down, 149. Weep you no more, 623. What custom wills, 121. We have heard, 379. Weeping they bear, 614. What deem'd they of, 2I7. We have no such daughter, 97. Welcome, great Stagirite, 400. What delight to be, 545. We have strict statutes, 293. Welcome, thou pleasing, 483. What dext'rous thousands, 268. We hear this fearful, 523. Welcome, ye shades, 580. What did I not, 3I0. We, ignorant of, 428. Well-apparell'd April, 640. What did that greatness, 666. We implore thy, 94. Well-chosen friendship, 208. What differ more, 645. We in vain the, 674. Well didst thou, 477. What do thy vines, 613. We know, 232. Well do vanish'd, 316. What does not fade, 555. We know that town, 54. Well, heaven forgive, 478. What dost thou make, 470. We leave, 248. Well I deserved, 35. What dreadful pleasure, 473. We lived stipine, 485. Well I entreated her, I40. What dream'd my lord, I49. We look before and after, 286. Well I knew, I09, 709. What earth in her, 385. We lose the prime, 219. Well I know him, 269. What exhibitions various, 593. We loved him, 420. Well, I know not, 204. What fairer cloak, 336. We may again, I85. Well may dreams, I46. What fate a wretched, 209. We may know, 27. Well may he then, 3I3. What fates impose, 179.'We may not think, 278. Well may your hearts, 596. What find I here, 389. We may outrun, 439. Well must the ground, 2I9. What fire is in, 431. We may roam, 408; Well, on my terms, 88. What flatt'ring scenes, 431. We might have been, 347. Well-sounding verses, 410. What from Jonson's, 48. We must be free or die, 55. Well, Suffolk, 266. What fin'ral pomp, 454. We must not blame, 364. Well sung the Roman bard, 257. What further fear, 64. We must not make a scarecrow, 293. Well, the links, 674. What gem hath dropp'd, 547. We must not stint, go. Well, then, things handsomely, I85. What great despite, 69. We must resign, I38. Were he but less, 414. What greater curse, 127. We must those, 405. Were he not by law, 288. What greater ills, 504. We must trust, 45. Were I a drowsy judge, 275. What groans of men, 6ii. We need not fear, 435. Were I no queen, 2I. What happiness the rural, 102. We no other pains, 386. Were I, 0 God, I95. What have I done, 31I. We no solution, 68i. Were it good, 420. What have I lost, 36. We now can form, 25. Were it meant, 562. What health promotes, 245. We oft our slowly, 43. Were man, 478. What higher in her society, 316. We owe thee much, 229. Were men so dull, 679. What histories of toils, 248. We poetic folks, 4I0. Were now the, 444. What ho! thou genius, 485. We reason with, 442.. Were she as rough, 633. What honour that, 99. We resolutely must, 600. Were subjects so, 4I7. What hopes you had, 255. We sacrifice to dress, 50o. Were such things here, 267. What horror will invade, T23. We say that learning's endless, 296. Were the graced person, i86. What human kind, 46I. We see, though order'd, 698. Were virtue by descent, 35. What if all, go. We seem arn bitious, 342. Were we not better, 598. What if he hath decreed, 582. We send the graces, 41I. Wert thou that sweet-smiling, 584. What if I ne'er consent, 337. IiVDEX OF FIRST -LINES. 783 What if I please, I78. What she demands, 240. Whatsoever, 38. What if that light, 354. What she wills, 671. When a friend, 399. What if the sun, 539. What should I do, 298. When a gen'ral bids, 6I2. What, if within, 355. What should most, 3I8. When a good actor, I43. What in sleep, 486. What should we speak of, 24. When a man's life, 275. What indignation, 207. What sighs and tears, 6I3. When a statesman, 408. What infinite heart's ease, 282. What! since the praetor, 289. When a world, 675. What is a king, 28i. What so foolish, I75. When absent, 387. What is a man, 263. What so strong, 449. When all the blandishments, 533. What is an age, I72. What spreading virtue, I24. When anger rushes, 38. What is done, 448. What stars do spangle, 509. When any great design, 436, 644. What is faith, love, 553. What, start at this, 2i. When art and nature, i84. What is glory, 173. What stores my dairies, 467. When as night, 380. What is love, 39.a,, What story is not, 669. When as sacred light, 358. What is low raise, 435. What strains of compassion, 604. When as the day, 346. What is our duty here, 254. What stratagems, 436. When at first from virtue's, 235. What is the end of fame, I7I. What stronger breast-plate, IoI, 279. When Aurora leaves, 357. What! is the jay, 78. What studies please, I46. When beggars die, 136. What is the world, 689. What subtile witchcraft, 407. When Bishop Berkeley said, 47. What is the worst, 20. What succour can, i09. When black clouds draw, 52I. What is there in the vale, 627. What sullen fury, 38. When bounteous Autumn, 59. What is this little, 35I. What surety of the world, 282. When by impulse, 495. What is this world, 698. What the declined is, 212. When by just vengeance, 450. What is true passion, 320. What then is taste, 546. When by the gamut, 364. What is truth, 587. What then remains, 226, 274. When by their designing, 442. What is your sex's, 670. What then? What rests, 478. When casting up, 373. What is youth, 724. What thing so good, 244. When certain to o'ercome, 349. What! keep a week, I8. What thou art is mine, 339. When change itself, 320. What length of lands, 562. What thou art, resign, I34. When continued rain, 27. What life refused, 137. What thou biddest, 63I. When Crito once, I:6. What madness rules, 158. What thou wouldst highly, I70. When daisies pied, 194. What makes all physical, 374. What though his mighty, 43s. When dark December, 640. What man is he, 432. What though I be, 322. When death's form, 5o8. What, man! ne'er pull, 503. What though no bees, 86. When desperate ills, III. What man so wise, I39. What though no weeping, 464. When devils will, 553. What man who knows, 32I. What though the mast, 475. When did his muse, 48. What masks, what dances, I21. What time the groves, 237. When did his pen, 296. What may be hoped, 4II. What time would spare, 179. When did his wit, Ir5. What may be remedy, 446. What to the old can, 708. When dinner has opprest, 344. What may this mean, 379. What toil did honest, 40. When empire ill, 417. What memory of past, 502. What torments are, 533. When ev'n the flying, 470. What men could do, 266. What torment's equal, 233. When evening gray, 16i. What men of spirit, I44. What transport to retrace, 722. When every case, 292. What mighty ills, 672. What use of oaths, 38o. When factious rage, 63. What mists of providence, 434. What valiant foemen, 3I. When fair morn, 358. What mockery will it, 341. What verse can do, 594. When faith and love, 13I. What modes of sight, 374. What! we have many, 244. When famed Farelst, 388. What more miraculous, 98. What were unenlighten'd, 333. When fast asleep, 479. What more than madness, I83, 2I8. What, what is virtue, 63o. When fates among, 217. What muse but his, 65o. What will they, then, i69. When fiction rises, 583. What Nature, alas, 636. What winning graces, 67. When fired by passion, 3I9. What nature has denied, 197. What wisdom more, 647. When first, beloved, 630. What nature wants, 375. What woman in the city, I52. When first the sun, 540. What need a vermeil-tinctured, 66, What wonder, 247. When first young Maro, 53. 239. What wonder if, 44. When foes the hand, 668. What neede my Shakspeare, 50. What wonder then, 239. When for thy head, 240. What needs me tell, i86. What wondrous sort, 026. When fortune raiseth, 434. What nothing earthly, 274, 599. What world's delight, 504. When fortune sends, 202. What numerous volumes, 528. What would this man, 332. When from dewy, 359. What nymph soe'er, 602. What wouldst thou have, 307. When from his dint, 456. What obscured light, I35. What wretch. art thou, 423. When from the cave, 262. What other oath, 25I. What you keep by, 685. When from thee, 622. What passion cannot, 365. What you saw, i67. When fruitful Clydesdale's, 576. What passion hangs, 325. Whate'er befalls, 126. When gath'ring clouds, 521. What peaceful hours, 347. Whate'er betides, by destiny, i78. When God the new-made, 697. What people is, 4I7. Whatever crazy sorrow, I37. When graceful sorrow, 50I. What perils do environ, 6i. Whatever fortune, good, 583. When gratitudeno'erflows, 228. What pilot so expert, 471. Whatever God did say, 054. When Greek meets Greek, 612. What plague is greater, 232. Whatever nature, 431. When hard words, 27I. What planter will attempt, 579. Whatever near Eurota's, 456. When he had no poower, 293. What pleasure can, 407. Whate'er she meant, 620. When he knew his rival, 38. What poems think you, 309. Whatever spirit, careless, I68. When he shall hear, I-6. What poet would, 4I4. Whate'er the motive, 409. When he speaks, I57. What port can such, I78. Whate'er the passion, 103. When his fortune, 595. What power was that, 99. Whate'er these book-learn'd, 84. When holy and devout, 428. What precious drops, 547. Whatever truths, 56. When hope lies dead, 657. What profits us, 39I. Whate'er you are, 200. When Hopkins dies, 6f. What rein can hold, 625. What's a fine person, 334. When I am forgotten, 201. What reinforcement, 256. What's fame, I73. When I awoke, 504. What rests but that, 290. What's female beauty, 70. When I behold the, 254. What reverence he did, 335. What's gone, and what's past, 394. When I behold this, 12. What rhubarb, senna, 403. What's good doth open, 224. When I consider every, 720. What riches give, 453. What's Hecuba to him, 045. When I consider life, 300. What right, what true, 646. What's justice to a man, 287. When I did hear, i96. What says my counsel, 295. What's property, 29i. When I do count, 578. What scenes of misery, 474. What's the business, 488. When I have most, 212. What secret springs, 3II. What's the newest grief, 233, When I have seen, 559. What seem'd fair, 3I6. What's time, when on, 60o. When I spoke, II5. What, shall our feasts, 6I7. What's true beauty, 70. When I tell him, i88. 784 JNDEX OF; FIRST LINES. When I view the beauties, 65. When the rival winds, 521. Where justice grows, 279. When I was yet a child, 96. When the rosy-finger'd, 361. Where lawns extend, 455. When I was young, 709. When the soul is sunk, 368. Where lilies, in a lovely, 63. When icicles hang, 640. When the summer harvest, 534. Where lives the man, 352. When in hand, 372. When the sun begins to fling, 539, Where love once pleads, 66i. When in heav'n, 507. 574, 588. Where many a man, 338. When in the down, 492. When the sun'gins, 475. Where may the wearied, 229. When in th' effects, 507. When the sun sets, 344. Where mice and rats, 409. When in those oratories, 463. When the sun's orb, 522. Where none admire, 65. When int'rest calls, 2io. When the swinging signs, 438. Where none attends, 551. When kings grow stubborn, 28i. When the weary, 354. Where now, ye living, 305. When knaves and fools, 460. When the winds, 468. Where opening roses, 192. When liberty is gone, 298. When the winter, 642. Where pain of unextinguishable, 436. When liberty is lost, 299. When the world first, s12. Where rose the mountains, 372. When loud winds, 525. When the world's up, 696. Where seek retreat, 266. When love begins, 323. When the yellow hair, 237. Where sense with sound, 47. When love could teach, 325. When they see, 445. Where shall we find, 23i. When love so rumbles, 492. When this disease, 272. Where silver lakes, 285. When love was all, 281. When thou art gone, 390. Where smiling spring, 512. When love's well timed, 306. When thou canst truly, 644. Where social love exerts, 6oo. When Lucilius brandishes, 460. When thou, thy ship, 474. Where solar beams, I92. When men argue, 42. When, through tasteless, 26i. Where solid pains, 408, 695. When men in sickness, 402. When through the gloom, 523. Where statues breathed, 463. When men's intents, 235, 278. When thus the gather'd, 309. Where stray the muses, 456. When merry May, 362. When time has past, 346. Where such radiant lights, 63. When, more indulgent, i16. When time, which steals, 348. Where summer's beauty, 535. When Music, heavenly, 364. When trampling tyranny, 591 Where the bee sucks, 194. When musing on, 348. When true hearts lie, 23I. Where the brass knocker, I28. When my outward, 263. When twilight skies, 588. Where the old myrtle, 293. When nature cannot, 403. When tyrant custom, 276. Where the rude ox, 299. When nature ceases, 5To. When vice makes mercy, 305. Where the tender, 28. When nature's end, 546. When vice prevails, 251. Where the vales, 28. When noble benefits, 595. When was there ever, 445. Where, then, ah l where, 422. When now no more, 380. When watchfil herons, 73. Where there is advantage, 444. When obedient nature, 233. When water-drops, 382. Where though I mourn, 363. When ocean, air, 522. When we are well, 452. Where Tigris at the foot, 205. When often urged, 230. When we are wrong'd, 282. Where trumpets blow, 606. When once men reach, 25. When we behold, 37. Where vice prevails, 425. When once the poet's, 53. When we have mark'd, 490. Where village statesmen, 427. When others fell, 422. When we judge, 277. Where was then, 281. When our country's, 396. When we our betters, 659. Where, where, for shelter, 235. When our souls, 6o0o. When wealthy, show, 620. Where whole brigades, 618. When painters form, 387. When will the world, 299. Where you are liberal, 212. When Pedro does, 369. When winged deaths, 614. Whereat I waked, 148. When people once, 700. When winter frosts, 98. Wherever fountain, 205. When poor Rutilius, 283. When winter past, 533. Where'er I roam, 17, 563. Whence proceeds this, 480. When winter winds, 638. Wherever I shine, 541. When pronouncing sentence, 275. When with greatest art, 385, 545. Where'er my name, 353. When rage misguides, 408. When, with sounds, 458. Wherever sorrow is, 503. When reason, like the, 393. When with wood, 428. Where'er thou art, 222. When reason's lamp, 440. When yet was ever, 362. Where'er thy navy, 472. When rising spring, 5I2. When you the flow'rs, 293. Where'er you find, 420. When rosy morning, 359. When your good word, 480. Where'er you tread, I93. When sage Minerva, 156, 387. Whence, feeble nature, 406. Wherefore should not, 598. When Sappho writ, ii9. Whence, glaring oft, 355. Where's now that labour'd, 151. When satire flies, 46o. Whence has this, 690. Where's the man, i9. When scarce he had, io2. Whence is thy learning, 84. Wheresoe'er her conquering, 44. When she fotund her venom, 6fi. Whene'er we view, 42. Whereto serves mercy, 350, 428. When she from sundry arts, 288. Whenever Buckingham, 322. Whether, adopted to some, 5I5. When she rates, 440. Where, 463. Whether art it were, 24I. When shepherds pipe, 32, 78. Where all the bravery, 244. Whether she sprung, 474. When simple pride, i88. Where ambition of place, 33. Whether the darlken'd, 51. When some dreadful, 522. Where an equal poise, 256. Whether the sun, 539. When sorrows come, 503. Where any row, 225. Whether thy counter, 60. When souls that should, 340. Where are the mighty, 607. Whether thy hand, 388. When splitting winds, 523. Where are ye, merry voices, 603. Whether to deck, 424. When straight the people, 422. Where be the nosegays, 295. Whether we shall meet, 262. When streaming from, 540. Where beams of warm, 264. Whether we work, 300. When such paltry slaves, 565. Where can a frail, 449. Whether with particles, 222. When suddenly stood, 248. Where cities stood, 140. Which durst, with horses' hoof, 258. When swelling buds, 219. Where could they find, 650. Which gifts the capacity, ioi. When swords are gleaming, 606. Where do the words, 682. Which leader shall, 618. When that which we, 265. Where doth the world, 593. Which never more shall join, 239. When the black-letter'd, 633. Where doves in flocks, 76. Which of you shall we say, 86. When the bright summer, 720. Where dwells this sov'reign, 506. Which public death, 124. When the broad sea, 572. Where dwelt the ghostly, 80. Which sight my knowledge, 643. When the father is, 96. Where eldest Night, 377. Which to believe, 170. When the fiery suns, 26. Where else, 563. Which weep a loss, 552. When the following morn, I22. Where fires thou find'st, i68. Which when his pensive, 428. When the fretful stir, 697. Where full-ear'd sheaves, 215. While a moment, 562. When the hoary head, 21. Where go the poet's lines, 238 While black with storms, 381. When the hours of day, 588. Where grows, 243. While blooming youth, 728. When the last and dreadful, I22. Where honour or, 2o6, 287. While empiric politicians, 426. When the law shows, 294. Where in a plain, 525. While fancy brings, 42. When the merry bells, 121. Where is loyalty, 420. While fortune favour'd, 203. When the mind, 352. Where is our usual, 352. While Franklin's quiet, 395. When the morning sun, 540. Where is the horse, 259. While future realms, 248. When the night, 357. Where is the stoic, 395. While he survives, 226. When the Nile, 26. Where joy most revels, 233, While his falling tears, 547. EiVDEX OF EIRST LIN2ES. 785 While Hermes piped, 485. Who finds the partridge, 78. Whom Ancus follows, 592. While I listen to, I38. Who first taught; 418. Whom call we gay; 7I. While I this unexampled, 562. Who for so many benefits, 265 " Whom the gods love," 124. While in more lengthen'd, 368. Who for the poor renown, 653. Who's in or out, 4I5. While in the dark, 65. Who for thy table, 286. Whose causeway parts, 564. While in the radiant, 397. Who great in search, 373. Whose edge is sharper, 480. While lab'ring oxen, 3I. Who hath a ploughland, 26. Whose follies, blazed, i96. While life informs, 302. Who hath not heard it spoken, 247. Whose genius was, 4I7. While ling'ring rivers, 453. Who have before, 56. Whose glorious deeds, 6i6. While lull'd by sound, 648. Who, in all things, 207. Whose grievance is, 2c6. While Memory watches, 347, 706. Who in deep mines, 283. Whose honours with increase, I74. While no baseness, 35I. Who in the dark and, 229. Whose laughs are hearty, 286. While-O soft, 602. Who, in the spring, 542. Whose little intervals, 376. While others fish, 586. Who in want a hollow, 2I2. Whose little store, 203. While passions glow, 393. Who is sure he-hath, 508. Whose lofty trees, 579. While pensive poets, 423, 488. Who is the honest man, 25I. Whose rising forests, i99. While pray'rs and tears, 429. Who knows himself, 83. Whose tallest pines, 574. While resignation gently, 128. Who knows the joys, 2II, 695. Whose taste too long, 424. While she does her upward, 123. Who knows What adverse, i8i. Whose verses they deduced, 528. While the cock, 75, 358. Who knows which way, 667. Whose worth, 676. While the deathless, 410. Who lord of millions, 60. Whoso loves law, 290. While the fantastic, 193. Who love too much, 3I7. Why, all delights, 240, 408. While the fierce monk, 275. Who loves not more, 535. Why are our bodies, 675. While the fond soul, 83. Who loves, raves, 307. Why are we weigh'd, 505. While the heav'n, by the, 5I7. Who mix'd reason, 407. Why are you so fierce, 350. While the milkmaid, 30. Who most to shun, 2i0. Why asks he what, 6:. While the ploughman, 30. Who, not content, 428. Why did I write, 52. While the reaper, 29. Who now my matchless, 592. Why did my parents, I55, 297. While the steep horrid, i98. Who now reads Cowley, 5I. Why did she love him, 308. While the stars, 485. Who now shall give me, 42I. Why do disputes, 42. While there is life, 128. Who now shall rear, 292. Why do I weep, 249. While these limbs, 222. Who on this base, II3. Why do I yield, 24I. While thirst of praise, 67I. Who pants for glory, 221. Why do you keep, 363. While thus she rested, 48I. Who praises Lesbia's eyes, I87. Why does Antony, 34. While to high heaven, 427. Who reads, 439. Why does he wake, 355. While trees the mountain-tops, 570. Who reasons wisely, 441. Why does one climb it, I93. While true to its aim, 573. Who sat the nearest, 487.'Why dost thou call, 500. While warmer souls, 279. Who sees a soul, 65. Why dost thou cast out, 280. While we behold, 80o. Who sees pale Mammon, 60. Why dost thou let, 483. While we do admire, 54, 40I. Who sees these dismal, 6o8. Why dost thou shake, 482. While winds and storms, 230. Who sees with equal, 435.'Why dost thou weep, 22I. While words of learned, 296, 385. Who set the twigs, i99. Why doth not beauty, 649. Whilst all its throats, I44. Who shall believe, 253. Why earth or sun, 537. Whilst all the stars, 5I4. Who shall decide, 42, I43. Why, every fault's, 478. Whilst any trump, 6I7. Who shall dispute, I24. Why grow the branches, 97. Whilst from off the waters, i9i. Who shames a scribbler, 57, 1r8. Why has not man, 165, 332. Whilst she spake, i82. Who, should they steal, 92. Why, headstrong liberty, 299. Whilst the heavy ploughman, 489. Who, single combatant, 6I. Why heavenly truth, 586. Whilst they fly, 476. Who stands safest, 434. Why is a handsome wife, 633. Whilst you were here, 233. Who swelling sails, 384. Why is the hearse, 2i6, 592. Whisp'rings, heard, 7I7. Who taught the bee, 268. Why left you wife, 633. Whistling winds, 356. Who taught the nations, II3, 268. Why look you still, 145. White as a white sail, 254. Who taught-the parrot, 73. Why lose we life, 59. White seem'd her robes, I50. Who that define it, 213. Why love among, 309. Whither are they, 5II. Who that hath ever been, 302. Why, man, do such, 658. Who abuseth his cattle, 33. Who then shall blame, IoI. Why meet we thus, 295. Who alone suffers, 21I, 346. Who therefore seeks, 644. Why mourn I not, 547. Who are the wise, 646. Who think too little, 545. Why pique all mortals, 408. Who bid the stork, 435. Who thinks that fortune, 204. Why, rather, sleep, 489. Who blindfold walks, 454. Who this observes, 20. Why round our coaches, 70, I97. Who breathes, must suffer, 502. Who thus laments, 659. Why should calamity, 295, 503. Who brought green poesy, 412 Who to a woman, 668. Why should he despair, 141. Who brought me hither, I30. Who to the fill, 690. Why should not conscience, 287. Who builds a church, 98, 446. Who, too deep, 385. Why should not hope, 255. Who but must laugh, 5o. Who trusts himself, 672. Why should Rome, 4I5. Who but thyself, 58. Who want, while through, 466. Why should we, 5o0. Who by repentance, 448. Who was that just, 446. Why should we kill, 329. Who can all sense, 465. Who will sav the world, 693. Why should we sigh, 624. Who can cease, 26. Who with the weight, I23. Why should you, 648. Who can cloy, i85. Who would excel, II5. Why should'st thou try, 20. Who can impress the forest, 577. Who would lose, 302. Why sit we not, 569. Who can in memory, 35I. Who would not be, 395. Why sitt'st thou by, 559. Who can in reason, 206. Who would not, finding, 386. Why slander we, 555. Who can mistake, 553. Who would the miseries, I97. Why slumbers Pope, 55. Who can paint, 375. Who would the title, 393. Why so pale and wan, 328. Who can see, 422. Who would with care, i86. Why the changing oak, 576. Who cannot rest, 35I. Who wrote it, 647. Why then dost treat me, 500. Who cries out on pride, 432. Who'd be so mock'd, 2I2. Why, thou poor mourner, 658. Who dares think one, I70. Whoever doth to temperance, 305' Why, universal plodding, 527. Who did ever, in French, 58. Whoe'er excels, I56. Why was the sight, x65, Who dotes, yet doubts, 323. Whoe'er has travelled, 304. Why, what a wilful, 667. Who drinks, alas, 27o. Whoe'er offends, 453. Why, what should be the fear, IS. Who durst thy faultless, 399. Whoever thinks a perfect, 399. Why, what would you, 323. Who ever loved, 3I6. Whoe'er thou art, that, 383. Why, when the balm, I47. Who ever sees these, 445. Whoe'er thou art, whose, 49. Why, whilst we struggle, 38. Who fears not to do ill, 99. Whoe'er you are, not, 470. Why will you break, 22. Who feeds that almshouse, 93. Whole droves of minds, 38I. Why will you fight, 306. Who feels no ills,. 434. Whole rivers here, 453. Why wilt thou add, 264. Who finds not Providence, 435. Whole years ofjoy, 5oi. Why wouldst thou go, 223. 50 786 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Why wouldst thou urge, 306. With equal mind, s6o. With what a leaden, 557. Wide was his parish, 429. With equal rays, 5I. With what delights, I07. Wild dreams! but such, 54. With every change, 576. With what ease, 418. Will any freedom, I5i. With eyes upraised, 344. With what free growth, 567. Will ever acts, 649. With fairest flow'rs, i6o. With what strength, 20i. Will fortune never, 204. With fame, in just proportion, I75. With whate'er gall, 463. Will he for sacrifice, 502. With fates averse, 178. With whirlwinds, 470. Will he steal, 379. With fanning words, 327. With wind in poop, 470. Will holds the sceptre, 39I. With fingers weary, 668. With wisdom fraught, 647. Will no superior, 531. With flow'r inwoven, 239. With wonder seized, I40. Will she with huswife's, 338. With footsteps weary, 677. With your cost, 288. Will the falcon, 76. With greens and flow'rs, i90. Withers, adieu, 53. Will you again unknit, 6i6. With groundless fear, 27I. Within a thicket, 482. Will you be only, 340. With hairy springes, 39, 76. Within an ancient, io8. Will the pedant, 526. With hasty hand, 259. Within the brain's, 440. Will these moss'd trees, 578. With her hair flung back, 240. Within the hollow crown, 282. Will you not speak, 83. With her nimble quills, 7I. Within the infant rind, 194, 403. Will you thus dishonour, I42. With her the temple, 4I. Within this homestead, 72. Willing we sought, 6o5. With hearts affected, 404. Within this sober realm, 576. Wilt thou behold, 5oo. With here a fountain, 205. Within this wood, 525. Wilt thou not to a, 349. With high woods, i99. Without a genius, 296. Wilt thou repine, 30. With him enthroned, 377. Without her, follows, 136. Wilt thou thy idle, 442. With him she strove, 338. Without our hopes, 254. Wilt thou with pleasure, 494. With his gnarl'd old arms, 572. Without the worm, I54. Windows and doors, 42. With his other hand, 389. Witness for me, 29I. Winds murmured, I7, 95. With his pruning-hook, 570. Witness if I be, 424. Winds! on your wings, 426. With horns and trumpets, 368. Witness my son, i36. Wine is like anger, 268. With inauspicious love, 3I0. Witness this army, 6i6. Wines and cates, I85. With joy th' ambitious, 34. Witnesses, like watches, 287. Wings he wore, 75. With joy they view, 6i0. Wit's what the vicious, 65i. Winnow well his thought, II6. With just enough, 437. Wits and templars, 651. Winter binds, 64I. With late repentance, 532. Witty as Horatius Flaccus, 54. Winter giveth the fields, 638. With laxatives preserve, 402. Woe! for my vine-clad, 66o. Winter has a joy for me, 636. With lifted arms, 284. Woe to poor man, 233. Wisdom and eloquence, I33. With light's own smile, 273. Woe to that land, 419. Wisdom and fortune, 204, 647. With lightsome brow, 236. Woe to the man, 663. Wisdom had ordain'd, 644. With love's light wings, 321. Woe to the youth, I75. Wisdom he has, and to his, 53I. With manlier objects, 553. Woe! woe! eternal, 658. Wisdom married, 648. With me, 445. Woe worth the man, 6i8. Wisdom of what, 644. With mind averse, 426. Woeful shepherds, 154. Wisdom sits alone, 647. With mine own tongue, 155. Woes cluster; rare, 66i. Wisdom, slow product, 645. With mortal heat, 6Io. Wolves shall succeed, 430. Wisdom that scorns, 644. With much good will, 563. Woman and fool, 673. Wisdom, thou say'st, 646. With odorous oil, 237. Woman is the lesser, 678. Wisdom, though richer, 648. With one look she doth, 327. Woman! o'er whose, 66i. Wisdom's above suspecting, 647. With one virtuous touch, 539. Woman! when I, 669. Wisdom's self, 498, 645. With piercing eye, 375. Woman's faith and, 675. Wisdom's triumph, 646. With pity moved, 256. Woman's gentle brain, 675. Wise in his prime, 647. With plain heroic, 43. Woman's grief is, 66i. Wise leeches will not, 404. With pleasure Argus, 366. Women are made, 667. Wise legislators never, 288. With princely pace, 361. Women are soft, 676. Wise men love you, 313. With prudes for proctors, 242. Women, born to be, 678. Wise men ne'er wail, 659. With ringlets quaint, 238. Women, like princes, 670. Wise Plato said, 92. With roomy decks, 469. Women were made, 680. Wise poets, that wrap, 583. With shadowy verdure, 234. Women who marry, 670. Wisest and best men, 20I, 225. With shame and sorrow, 50I. Women will love, 676. Wish'd freedom I presage, 20o6. With sharpen'd sight, 40. Won by the charm, 329, 433. Wit and will, 649. With silent awe, 459. Wonder at my patience, 231. Wit, as the chieft 652. With slaught'ring guns, 76. Wonder not much, 69. Wit from the first, 65i. With slavish tenets, 584. Wonder not to see, 2,9. Wit, in northern, 650. With smiling aspect, 313. Woodman, spare that tree, 574. Wit like tierce claret, 649. With some sweet, 38i. Woods are lighter, 684. Wit, like wine, 54. With song and dance, 122, I67. Woods are like leaves, 684. With a shriek, 549. With stamnlering lips, 5c6. Words are the notes, 68i. With a swimmer's stroke, 236. With stays and cordage, 472. Words are the soul's, 683. With all my soul, 390. With store of vermeil, I95. Words are wings, 683. With all the assurance, 266. With studied argument, 42. Words learn'd by rote, I03. With anxious doubts, 392. With such a care, 459. Words so debased, 68I. With arts like these, 295. With such deceits, I38. Words that bring back, 682. With authors, stationers, 57. With such kind passion, 609. Words that wise Bacon, 50. With beating hearts, I79. With stLch sober, 39. Work without hope, 254. With better grace, 202. With superior boon, 32. Works may have more, 65I. With books and money, 294. With tears, 501. Worse than all, 4I2. With British bounty, i86. With that he gave, 259. Worse than the anarchy, 59I. With calumnious art, 88. With that malignant, i58. Worthiest by being good, 225. With candied plantains, 2i6. With the clamorous, 6i6. Worthy of great Phoebus, 58. With chalk I first, 5io. With the losers, 53I. Would I a house, 105. With cheerful step, 72I. With thee on Raphael's, 388. Would I had been, 45. With chymic art, I93. With these sometimes, I75. Would I had never, i88 With clouds and storms, 524. With too much knowledge, 332. Would one think, 306. With costly cates, 330. With two fair eyes, 32I. Would some part, 24. With curious art, 267, 35I. With uncouth rhymes, 463. Would the world now, 697. With dancing hair, 238. With unresisted might, 338. Would they think, 375. With deeper brown, 234. With untainted eye, 68. Would ye preserve, r87. With dumb pride, 43I. With varying vanities, 593. Would you both please, 104. With easy freedom, 320. With wanton heed, 479. Would you so dote, 3I2. With eloquence innate, i56, 429. With wars and taxes, 6io. Would you the advantage, 6i. With endless pain, 303. With watching overworn, 483. Wouldst thou be, 4I7. With equal justice, 29I. With what a graceful, 3c,6. Wouldst thou to honour, 25I. INDDE X Or ErzRST LINRES. 787 Wouldst thou unlock, I42. Yet mark the fate, 674. You, if your goodness, 260. Wouldst thou with, 183. Yet mark'd I where, 32i. You know that love, 320. Wounds by wider, 402. Yet, not superior, I77. You lack the season, 488. Wrath is a fire, 272. Yet not to earth are, 528. You laugh, half beau, I97. Wrath shall be no more, 274. Yet nothing still, 444. You love me for, 209. Wretched, 485. Yet, oh! the imperfect piece, 7og9. You maintain several factions, 616. Wrinkles undistinguish'd pass, 25. Yet, of manners mild, 336. You may as well forbid, 577. Write, 153. Yet proud of parts, I97. You may as well use, 120. Write till your ink, 550. Yet Providence, that, 436. You may my glory, 233. Writers say, as the most, 320. Yet reason frowns in wars, 612. You may neglect, 319. Writing is but just, 53. Yet shall the axe, 279. You meaner beauties, 520. Wrongs do not leave off, 699. Yet shall thy grave, I59. You misjudge, 32I. Wyndham like a tyrant, 63. Yet should some, 543. You modern wits, 85. Yet show some pity, 279. You must not think, 46i. Yet soft his nature, 461, 645. You must obey me, I78. Y. Yet some there be, r6i. You, my lord, 398. Yet some there were, i27. You needs must learn, 336. Ye are, 515. Yet sometimes nations, 298. You nymphs, call'd Nalads, 457. Ye are stars, 671. Yet still there whispers, 99. You perceive the body, 420. Ye brethren of the lyre, 365. Yet still thy fools, 56.. You pine, you languish, 30Io. Ye careful angels, 38. Yet, swimming in that, 82. You praise yourself, 277. Ye darksome pines, that, 576. Yet the stout fairy, 222. You promised, 94. Ye fair, 328. Yet then, from all, 425. You promised once, 289. Ye field-flowers, i89. Yet then this little, 28. You purchasepain, 386. Ye flowers that droop, 17. Yet there is a credence, I39. You range the pathless, i90. Ye fostering breezes, 439. Yet they in pleasing slumber, 250. You released his courage, 592. Ye friends to truth, 396. Yet this false comfort, 58. You sang the olden, 703. Ye glorious Gothic scenes, 40. Yet this mad chase, 7I1. You saw but sorrow, 5oi. Ye gods of quiet, 492. Yet time ennobles, 52. You say a long, 221. Ye heavens from high, 438. Yet time serves, 445. You scandal to the stock, 224. Ye know the spheres, 29I. Yet time, who changes all, 299. You season still, 2i. Ye lamps of heav'n, 5i6. Yet to augment, 4c6. You see me here, 24. Ye lofty beeches, 166. Yet truth will sometimes, 47. You seem not high, 228. Ye moon and stars, 209, 353. Yet unimpair'd, 2I. You shall be still, 28i. Ye myrtles brown, 215. Yet vainly most, 84. You shall die, 124. Ye noble few, 66_. Yet was she not profuse, 92. You shall put, 379. Ye quenchless stars, 5I8. Yet what avail, 372. You should be hunted, 288. Ye sacred Nine, io8. Yet what is wit, 466. You show us Rome, 42. Ye shepherds of this, 455. Yet why complain, 632. You sit above, 434. Ye sons of art, ii. Yet wide was spread, I74. You smile to see me, 603. Ye sylphs and sylphids, I68. Yet writers say, 320. You spotted snakes, I68. Ye vain 1 desist, 593. Yon flow'ry arbours, I92. You spurni'd me, iio. Ye vig'rous swains, 26I. Yon friendless man, 42I. You still, fair mother, 67. Ye watchful sprites, 662. Yon gentle hill, 64I. You strive in vain, 3c6. Years, following, 557. Yon gray lines, 360. You sunburnt sickle men, 31. Years of service past, 228. Yon light is not daylight, 379. You swim a-top, 372. "Yes, darling, let thenm go," 715. You, and all, 430. You tell your doctor, 405. Yes, every poet, 424. You are a worthy judge, 276. You tempt the fury, 275. Yes, gentle T'ime, 560. You are above, 336. You that are a sov'reign, 280. " Yes!" I answer'd, 433. You are already, 322. You that are king, 420. Yes, one-the first, 395. You are both fluid, 300. You thatcan search, 666. Yes, the last pen, 29i. You are good, 283. You that have promised, 677. Yes! when thy heart, 7II. You are mine enemy, 276. You think, no doubt, 688. Yes, while I live, 282. You are more clement, 350. You think this turbulence, 403. Yes, you despise the man, 84. You are nobly born, 253. You to your own Aquinuum, io6. Yet a few days, 709. You are not for obscurity, 538. You too proceed, 42. Yet ah! why should they, 264. You are old, 23. You, too weak, 38. Yet all combined, 64. You are too senseless, go. You use nie like a courser, 258. Yet are able only, 359. You are too young, 322. You violets, that first, i96. Yet, as immortal, 205. You beat your pate, 65v. You were to blame, 633. Yet, as in duty bound, 3Io. You by the help, 500. You were used, 202. Yet beauty, though injurious, 66. You can behold, i82. You who men's fortunes, 308. Yet better thus, i88. You can with single look, 70. You who supply the ground, 28. Yet Chloe sure, 92. You, carrying with you, 695. You, whose pastime,:62. Yet do I fear thy nature, 280. You cast th' event of war, 627. You with your foes, 436. Yet ere to-morrow's, I9go. You caution'd me, 94. You would not wish, 22o. Yet even her tyranny, i58. You come in such, 274. You write with ease, 230. Yet fearing idleness, 463. You curious chanters, 8r. You'd mollify a judge, 275. Yet first to those, 449. You dare patronage, I58. You'd see, could you, 668. Yet gracefiul ease, 67, 335. You do not give the cheer, i86, 260. You'll be no more, 69. Yet gracious charity, 93. You dote on her, 32I. You'll find a difference, 719. Yet green are Saco's, 581. You doubt not me, 312. You'll prove a jolly, 340. Yet grieve thou not, 704. You dread reformers, I45. You'll sometimes meet a fop, 238. Yet, guiltless too, 3r8. You exclaim as loud, 56. Young budding virgin, 68. Yet had his aspect, 584. You first came home, 563. Young I'd have him, 315. Yet hliath the morning, 356. You gain your point, 530, 685. Young men soon give, 20. Yet he at length, 448. You graced the several, 634. Young men to imitate, 59. Yet he was jealous, 27I. You have already quench'd, 565. Young mother! what can, 504. Yet hence the poor, 285. You have already wearied, 202. Young Pallas shone, 15I. Yet here and there, 87, 339. You have no more work, i67. Young though thou art, 720. Yet I doubt not, 722. You have scarce time, 428. Your author always, 58J Yet, if desire of fame, I7I. You have still your happiness, 243. Your Ben and Fletcher, 48. Yet if thou go'st by land, 563. You have such a February, 640. Your body I sought, 226. Yet in this agony, I75. You have too much, 696. Your boldness I with, i2o. Yet is'my truth yplight, 327. You have yourself, 280. Your brave and haughty, 221. Yet, it is love, 307. You, her priest, 273. Your breath first kindled, 617. Yet, lest you think, 423. You hoard not health, 245. Your brother is a forfeit, 293. Yetlet them look, 221. You humour me when, 261. Your cables burst, 476.'Yet looks he like a king, i66. You, if an humble husband, 262. Your cavalcade the fair, 312. 788 INDEX OF FIRST ~INE'S. Your change was, 45I. Your piety has paid, 216. Youth and its thousand, 723. Your children were vexation, 97. Your plea is good, 29I. Youth and the opening rose, 7II. Your cold hypocrisy, 262. Your poem sunk, 414. Youth, beauty, wisdom, 720. Your country, chief in arms, 29I. Your power you never use, 266. Youth, ere it sees, 526. Your dainty speakers, 295. Your reign no less assures, 33. Youth has spent his wealth, 714. Your daughter hath, 34I. Your sacred aid, 59I. Youth hath a strong, 703. Your defects to know, ii6. Your safety, more than, 473. Youth is ever apt, 7I2. Your dishonour, 277. Your scope is as mine own, 294. Youth is not rich, 56i. Your diver, 39. Your sex's glory'tis, 680. Youth lost in dissipation, 707. Your 6dicts some, i62. Your slighting Zulema, 426. Youth might be wise, 703. Your fair discourse, I04. Your soul's above, 3Io. Youth no less becomes, 24, 7I9. Your farm reulites, 28. Your steady soul, I6o. Youth on silent wings, 728. Your foes are such, 596. Your tears, a heart, 55I. Youth, that pursuest, 716. Your gift shall, 463. Your valour bravely, 592. Youth, that with joys, 709. Your hay it is mow'd, 27. Your very fear of death, 265. Youth, the more it is, 720. Your high-engender'd battles, 242. Your warrior offspring, 96. Youth, what man's age, 708. Your honour's players, 245. Your wedding-ring, 626. Youth with swift feet, 705. Your hopes without, 255. Your wit burlesque, II5. Youth's a soft scene, 723. Your ill-meaning politician, 87. Your wrongs are known, 4i6. You've too a woman's, 676. Your intention hold, II4. Your pictures out, 676. Ytene's oaks-beneath, 577. Your looks must alter, 336. Your wine lock'd, 184. Your love in a cottage, I09. Your words are like, 74. Your lute may wind, 369.,, Yours be the harvest, 265. Z. Your mind is tossing; 472. Yours is a soul, 509. Your oaths are past, 253. Yourself first made, 3Io. Zeal and duty are not slow, 727. Your passion bends, 393. Youth, 7I9. Zeal is that pure and, 727. THE END.