Chapter VII: Part 7

Man at home, within himself, may find
The Deity immense, and in that frame
So fearfully, so wonderfully made,
See and adore His providence and power.
I see, and I adore! O God most bounteous!
O Infinite of goodness and of glory!
The knee that Thou hast shaped, shall bend to Thee;
The tongue which Thou hast tuned, shall chant Thy praise.
And Thine own image, the immortal soul,
Shall consecrate herself to Thee, for ever!
_Christopher Smart._

_Devotion_, when lukewarm, is un_devout_;
But when it glows, its heat is struck to heaven:
To human hearts her golden harps are strung;
High Heaven’s orchestra chants Amen to man.
_Young._

DEW.

Therefore God give thee of the _dew_ of heaven, and the fatness of the earth, and plenty of corn and wine.--Genesis, xxviii. 28.

My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the _dew_.--Deuteronomy, xxxii. 2.

As the _dew_ of Hermon, and as the _dew_ that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.--Psalm cxxxiii. 3.

O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee? O Judah, what shall I do unto thee? For your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early _dew_ it goeth away.--Hosea, vi. 4.

See how the orient _dew_,
Shed from the bosom of the morn,
Into the blowing roses,
Yet careless of its mansion new,
For the clear region where ’twas born,
Round in itself incloses:
And in its little globe’s extent,
Frames as it can its native element.
How it the purple flower does slight!
Scarce touching where it lies;
But gazing back upon the skies,
Shines with a mournful light,
Like its own tear,
Because so long divided from the sphere.
Restless it rolls and insecure,
Trembling lest it grow impure,
Till the warm sun pities its pain,
And to the skies exhales it back again.

So the soul, that drop, that ray
Of the clear fountain of eternal day,
Could it within the human flower be seen,
Remembering still its former height,
Shuns the sweet leaves and blossoms green.
And recollecting its own light,
Does in its pure and circling thoughts express
The greater heaven in an heaven less.
In how coy a figure wound,
Every way it turns away;
So the world excluding round,
Yet receiving in the day;
Dark beneath but bright above,
Here disdaining, there in love:
How loose and easy hence to go;
How girt and ready to ascend;
Moving but on a point below,
It all about does upwards bend,
Such did the manna’s sacred _dew_ distil,
White and entire although congeal’d and chill;
Congeal’d on earth; but does dissolving run
Into the glories of the Almighty sun.
_Andrew Marvell._

The starlight _dews_
All silently their tears of love instil,
Weeping themselves away, till they infuse,
Deep into nature’s breast, the spirit of her hues.
_Byron._

Within these leaves the holy _dew_
That falls from heaven, hath won anew
A glory--in declining.
_Miss Barrett._

Those verdant hills now bathed in morning _dews_,
Whose every drop outvies Golconda’s gem.
Lo! one hangs glittering on yon blade of grass:
Spurn not that lucid trembler, but admire
Its glorious hues, and trace them to their source;
The nice arrangement of its particles.
Draw nigh;--through microscopic lens inspect
That single drop’s profound elaborateness--
Most delicate, and wonderfully wrought.
Is it a work of chance? It is a world
Replete with life, and love, and feud. Its crowds
Dart swift from verge to verge (their ocean depths.)
How nervous and minute each supple fin!
What made that film-like hinge on which it plays?
What hand, what eye, save God’s could fashion it?
_T. L. Merritt._

_Dews_ of the morning! wherefore were ye given?
--To shine on earth, then rise to heaven.
_J. Montgomery._

See how the _dewdrops_ in the morning flowers
Stand glistening, brighter than the precious gem
Whose worth exalts the kingly diadem!
Clear, tiny droplets, which some April showers
Born of big, listed clouds, did weep o’er them,
In their pure joy that summer’s rosy bowers
Were bursting into bloom. Oh! _dewdrops_ pale,
How bountiful His hand, who sends the blessing
Of your surpassing coolness to th’ oppressing
Thirst of the dying flowers, whose juices fail
(But for such timely aid) ’neath noontide’s sun.
There is no storm-wind with its rushing wail,
There is no storm-cloud lowers o’er the vale,
But scatters blessings as it passeth on.
_G. J. O. Allmann._

But, ah! what numbers still are dead,
Though under means of grace they lie!
The _dew_ still falling round their head,
And yet their heart untouched and dry.
Dear Saviour! hear us when we call,
To wrestling pray’r an answer give;
Pour down thy _dew_ upon us all,
That all may feel, and all may live.
_John Newton._

One morn I mark’d two _dewdrops_ bright,
Impendent on a thorny spray:
The gems had caught my roving sight,
Gay glittering in the sunny ray.

A sudden breeze pass’d o’er the ground,
And shook their faithless resting-place;
They trembled--waver’d--with a bound,
Commingled in a kind embrace,

’Tis thus, thought I, with loving hearts,
When adverse storms sweep o’er their sky,
In closer union, each imparts
To each, aid, comfort, soothing joy.

The mingled _dewdrops_ by the sun
Were cherish’d, then exhaled together:
Thus virtuous love, on earth begun,
Renew’d in Heaven, exists for ever.
_George Taylor._

DISTRESS.

Let us arise, and go up to Bethel; and I will make there an altar unto God, who answered me in the day of my _distress_, and was with me in the way which I went.--Genesis, xxxv. 3.

I called upon the Lord in _distress_: the Lord answered me, and set me in a large place.--Psalm cxviii. 5.

There shall be great _distress_ in the land, and wrath upon this people.--Luke, xxi. 23.

Through all the changing scenes of life,
In trouble and in joy,
The praises of my God shall still
My heart and tongue employ.

Of His deliverance I will boast,
Till all who are _distrest_
From my example comfort take,
And charm their griefs to rest.
_Brady and Tate._

He can, He will, from out the dust,
Raise the blest spirits of the just;
Heal every wound, hush every fear,
From every eye wipe every tear;
And place them where _distress_ is o’er,
And pleasures dwell for evermore.
_Bishop Mant._

Lo! through the gloom of guilty fears,
My faith discerns a dawn of grace;
The Sun of Righteousness appears
In Jesus’ reconciling face.

My suffering, slain, and risen Lord!
In deep _distress_ I turn to Thee--
I claim acceptance in thy word,
My God! my God! forsake not me!
_James Montgomery._

Teach me in times of deep _distress_
To own Thy hand, my God!
And in submissive silence learn
The lessons of Thy rod.
_Heginbotham._

DOUBT.

And when they saw him, they worshipped him: but some _doubted_.--Matthew, xxviii. 17.

Then came the Jews round about Him, and said unto Him, How long dost thou make us to _doubt_? If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly.--John, x. 24.

Now when the high priest and the captain of the temple, and the chief priests heard these things, they _doubted_ of them whereunto this would grow.--Acts, v. 24.

Attempt the end, and never stand to _doubt_;
Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out.
_Herrick._

But desperate is their doom whom _doubt_ has driven
To censure fate, and pious hope forego;
Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven,
Perfection, beauty, life, they never know,
But frown on all who pass, a monument of woe.
_Beattie._

Ah! thou knowest not the war of struggling thought
That agitates my soul. I find in all
Some peril still to dread. I choose, and then
My choice repent; and then again regret
Having repented; while protracted _doubt_
Wearies her mind, so that the ill from good
No longer I distinguish; till at length
The flight of time impels me to the worst!
_From the Italian of Pietre Metastasio._

_Doubt!_ anarch old, that staggers all--
The mighty vulgar as the small,
Claims from all hearts th’ allegiance won,
Yet satisfaction gives to none;

And still resisted, still must reign,
Dreaded, abhorred, reviled in vain;
Sole tyrant he, that still must thrive,
While any of his subjects live;

The stoutest arm he fastest binds,
Still strongest in the strongest minds;
Who struggles hardest, suffers most;
And tightens bands be cannot burst.
_C. C. Colton._

DREAD--DREADFUL.

Shall not his excellency make you afraid? and his _dread_ fall upon you?--Job, xiii. 11.

Withdraw thine hand far from me: and let not thy _dread_ make me afraid.--Job, xiii. 21.

They were so high, that they were _dreadful_.--Ezekiel, i. 18.

I am a great King, saith the Lord of hosts, and my name is _dreadful_ among the heathen.--Malachi, i. 14.

Next saw we _Dread_, all trembling, how he shook,
With foot uncertain, proffer’d here and there;
Benumb’d with speech; and with a ghastly look,
Search’d every place, all pale and _dread_ for fear;
His cap borne up with starting of his hair;
’Stoun’d and amazed at his own share for _dread_,
And fearing greater dangers than was need.
_Sackville._

Thou attended gloriously from Heaven,
Shall in the sky appear, and from thee send
The summoning archangels to proclaim
Thy _dread_ tribunal.
_Milton._

Who the Creator love, created might
_Dread_ not; within their tents no terrors walk.
_Coleridge._

As if a lark should suddenly drop dead
While the blue air yet trembled with his song,
So snapped at once that music’s golden thread,
Struck by a nameless fear, that leapt along
From heart to heart, and like a shadow sped
With instantaneous shiver through the throng;
So that some glanced behind, as half aware
A hideous shape of _dread_ were standing there.

As when a crowd of pale men gather round,
Watching an eddy in the leaden deep,
From which they deemed the body of one drowned
Will be cast forth; from face to face doth creep
An eager _dread_, that holds all tongues fast bound,
Until the horror, with a ghastly leap,
Starts up, its dead blue arms stretched aimlessly,
Heaved with the swinging of the careless sea.
_J. R. Lowell._

DUST.

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for _dust_ thou art, and unto _dust_ shalt thou return.--Genesis, iii. 19.

All flesh shall perish together, and man shall turn again unto _dust_.--Job, xxxiv. 15.

All go unto one place; all are of the _dust_, and all turn to _dust_ again.--Ecclesiastes, iii. 20.

Then shall the _dust_ return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.--Ecclesiastes, xii. 7.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to _dust_.
_Shakspere._

Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame,
Earth’s highest station ends in “here he lies;”
And “_dust_ to _dust_” concludes her noblest song.
_Young._

What is this passing scene?
A peevish April day!
A little sun--a little rain,
And then night sweeps along the plain,
And all things fade away.
Man (soon discussed,)
Yields up his trust,
And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the _dust_.

Then, since this world is vain,
And volatile and fleet,
Why should I lay up worldly joys,
When _dust_ corrupts, and moth destroys,
And cares and sorrows eat?
Why fly from ill
With anxious skill,
When soon the hand will freeze, the throbbing heart be still?
_H. K. White._

DUTY.

Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole _duty_ of man.--Ecclesiastes, xii. 13.

So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our _duty_ to do.--Luke, xvii. 10.

Who shall, O God! ascend thy holy hill?
Ev’n he whose hands are clean, whose heart is pure,
Faithful of Word, and _dutiful_ of Will.
_J. A. Heraud._

Between ourselves and our desires, too oft,
We build a wall impassable. We mar
By futile artifice what honest skill
In either would alone effect.--Straight on,
And up the mountain, heavenwards aloft,
Should be the chosen path; however far
The goal may be; to reach it wants but will
To trust in God, and prudent courage drawn
From honourable purpose. Hard may be
The track, and steep to climb, but walls are none
To scale, nor ladders lack we, ’midst the chill
Of mental Alps, but only eyes to see
These words of truth light-written in the sun--
“The path of _duty_ aye runs up the hill.”
_Calder Campbell._

Rugged strength and radiant beauty--
These were one in nature’s plan;
Humble toil and heavenward _duty_--
These will form the perfect man.
_Mrs. Hale._

Stern daughter of the voice of God!
O _Duty_! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou who art victory and law
When empty terrors overawe,
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice.
_Wordsworth._

DWELL--DWELLING.

Depart from evil, and do good; and _dwell_ for evermore.--Psalm xxxvii. 27.

My people shall _dwell_ in a peaceable habitation, and in sure _dwellings_, and in quiet resting-places.--Isaiah, xxxii. 18.

No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God _dwelleth_ in us, and his love is perfected in us.

Hereby know we that we _dwell_ in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit.--I. John, iv. 12, 13.

I prais’d the sea, whose ample field
Shone glorious as a silver shield;
I prais’d the earth in beauty seen,
With garlands gay of various green;
And earth and ocean seem’d to say,
“Our beauties are but for a day.”

I prais’d the sun, whose chariot roll’d
On wheels of amber and of gold:
I prais’d the moon, whose softer eye
Gleam’d sweetly through the summer sky;
And moon and sun in answer said,
“Our days of light are numbered.”

O God! O good beyond compare!
If thus thy meaner works are fair;
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruin’d earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be,
Where thy redeem’d shall _dwell_ with thee.
_Bishop Heber._

O, come and _dwell_ with me,
Spirit of power within,
And bring the glorious liberty
From sorrow, fear, and sin.
_Wesley._

Think on th’ eternal home
The Saviour left for you;
Think on the Lord most holy, come
To _dwell_ with hearts untrue.
So shall ye tread untired his pastoral ways,
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise.
_Keble._

EARTH.

And God called the dry land _Earth_.--Genesis, i. 10.

The _earth_ is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.--Psalm xxiv. 1.

The _earth_, O Lord, is full of thy mercy.--Psalm cxix. 64.

The _earth_ shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.--Isaiah, xi. 9.

The _earth_ also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.--II. Peter, iii. 10.

Unconstant _Earth_! why do not mortals cease
To build their hopes upon so short a lease?
Uncertain lease, whose term but once begun,
Tells never when it ends till it be done:
We dote upon thy smiles, not knowing why,
And whiles we but prepare to live, we die:
We spring like flowers for a day’s delight,
At noon we flourish, and we fade at night:
We toil for kingdoms, conquer crowns, and then
We that were Gods, but now, now less than men.
If wisdom, learning, knowledge, cannot dwell
Secure from change, vain bubble _earth_, farewell.
_Francis Quarles._

_Earth’s_ cup
Is poisoned; her renown, most infamous;
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust;
Her titles, slanderous names; her praise, reproach;
Her strength, an idiot’s boast; her wisdom, blind;
Her gain, eternal loss; her hope, a dream;
Her love, her friendship, enmity with God;
Her promises, a lie; her smile, a harlot’s;
Her beauty, paint, and rotten within; her pleasures,
Deadly assassins masked; her laughter, grief;
Her breasts, the stings of death; her total sum,
Her all, most total vanity.
_Pollok._

And had _earth_, then, no joys? no native sweets,
No happiness, that one who spoke the truth,
Might call her own? She had, true native sweets,
Indigenous delights, which up the Tree
Of Holiness, embracing as they grew,
Ascended, and bore fruit of Heavenly taste.
_Pollok._

Lean not on _earth_; ’t will pierce thee to the heart:
A broken reed at best, but oft a spear:
On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires.
There’s nothing here but what as nothing weighs;
The more our joy, the more we know it vain;
And by success are tutored to despair.
Nor is it only thus, but must be so.
Who knows not this, though grey, is still a child;
Loose then from _earth_ the grasp of fond desire,
Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore.
_Young._

_Earth_, thou great footstool of our God
Who reigns on high; thou fruitful source
Of all our raiment, life, and food,
Our house, our parent, and our nurse.
Mighty stage of mortal scenes,
Drest with strong and gay machines,
Hung with golden lamps around,
And flowery carpets spread the ground--
Thou bulky globe, prodigious map,
That hangs unpillared in an empty space,
While thy unwieldly weight hangs in the feeble air,
Bless that Almighty word that fix’d and holds thee there.
_Watts._

A puff of honour fills the mind,
And yellow dust is solid good;
Thus, like the ass of savage kind,
We snuff the breezes of the wind,
Or steal the serpent’s food.
Could all the choirs
That charms the poles
But strike one doleful sound,
’T would be employed to mourn our souls;
Souls that were formed of sprightly fires
In floods of folly drowned.
Souls made of glory seek a brutal joy;
How they disclaim their heavenly birth,
Melt their bright substance down with drossy _earth_,
And hate to be refined from that impure alloy.
_Watts._

There are wondrous things on the aged _earth_; ’tis speeding
to its close;
From the very heart of the prosperous world the prophet-thunder
grows;
And as this sphere whirls round and round upon its endless way,
And as the laws of the universe from their boundless centres sway,
From the everlasting hills of heaven look down a seraph-race,
And gaze upon the mighty change that speaks aloud through space:
With joy they hymn the Eternal, in whose embrace they live,
And strike the harp to him who loves to pity and forgive.

Stands the archangel Lucifer on a stormy planet near,
And the hollow sound of his mighty voice fills many worlds with
fear;
“Vain _earth_,” he said, “thy pigmy lords may strive from
thee to rise,
May gasp their hopes in frequent verse, they half philosophize,
Build temples to the monarch steam, be victors o’er the sea--
Their pride, their power shall disappear at one dark glance from
me!
O for the fierce wild rapture of that fast approaching day,
When man and his brief dwelling in the storm are swept away.”

Far in the centre of all space burns the eternal throne,
Where God, unseen, ineffable, dwells in his light alone.
“My Son,” the one existence saith, “_earth_ speeds its course
to thee,
And soon beneath thy rule of love its kingdoms shall be free.
The demons dream of fury, of swift, consuming fire,
Dream that the spirit of the Lord is stern resentful ire:
But the whole universe shall know that mercy is divine--
Beloved Son! Men, angels, friends, for evermore are thine.”
_Carrera._

I believe this _earth_ on which we stand
Is but the vestibule to glorious mansions,
Through which a moving crowd for ever press.
_Joanna Baillie._

As trees beneath the soil must shoot,
Before they form the grove,
So man in _earth_ must spread his root,
That hopes to bloom above.
_Thomas Ward._

_Earth_ hath of thee had glimpses, shaped to suit
The contemplative Spirit, suffering
From occultation of the absolute,
The shadow of the spiritual thing
That passing, veils the Truth. Let it pass on!
Shine forth, O Sun! the universal King,
Intelligible God. Thy steadfast Throne
For ever is immovable, and _Earth_
Light from thine aspect borrows, and, anon,
In constant revolution, giveth birth
To darkness, not forsaken: for the Moon
And Stars reflect thy glory faintly forth,
In night, most holy night, in whose high noon
Majestic Heaven itself alone reveals
To faith,--a starry spell,--a visible tune,--
Until thy reappearing opes the seals
Of the mysterious Tome, and supersedes
Their borrowed lights--their spirit-motioned wheels.
Yet are they God’s! how happy he who reads
Their office rightly;--oracles _Earth_ hears
In visionary slumber, hears and heeds;
The Deities of darkness, on the spheres
Enthroned, Angels of Night, whose choral gleams
Echo the word unto the worlds He cheers.
_J. A. Heraud._

ELEMENTS.

Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the _elements_ of the world.--Galatians, iv. 3.

But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly _elements_, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage?--Galatians, iv. 9.

But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the _elements_ shall melt with fervent heat.--II. Peter, iii. 10.

I cavilled at the _elements_--what is earth?
A huge congestion of unmethodized matter
With but a skin of life--a mighty solid,
Which nature’s prodigal of space provides
For superficial uses; and what air?
A motion and a pressure; fire? a change;
And light? the language of the things called dumb.

Last came the troubled question--what am I?
A blade, a sapling of the growth of life
Wherewith the outside of the earth is covered;
A comprehensive atom, all the world
In act of thought embracing; in the world
A grain scarce filling a particular place.
_Henry Taylor._

Father, I know my frame is all composed
Of _elements_ that perish; and I know
The bondage whereunto my grovelling soul
Still turns, in spite of higher aspirations.
Oh, grant me strength to burst the chains of sense!
That in the _elemental_ wreck to come,
I may not perish utterly, but live
To praise and bless Thee for my great salvation.
_Egone._

Let every _element_ rejoice;
Ye thunders, burst with awful voice
To Him who bade you roll.
His praise in softened notes declare,
Each whispering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the soul.
_Ogilvie._

ENVY.

Be not thou _envious_ against evil men, neither desire to be with them.--Proverbs, xxiv. 1.

Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous; but who is able to stand before _envy_?--Proverbs, xxvii. 4.

But Pilate answered them, saying, Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews?

For he knew that the chief priests had delivered him for _envy_.--Mark, xv. 9, 10.

For where _envying_ and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work.--James, iii. 16.

And next to him malicious _Envy_ rode
Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw
Between his cankered teeth a venomous tode,
That all the poison ran about his jaw:
But inwardly he chawed his own maw
At neighbour’s wealth that made him ever sad,
For death it was when any good he saw;
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had;
And when he heard of harme he waxed wondrous glad.
_Spenser._

I _envy_ not their hap
Whom favour doth advance;
I take no pleasure in their pain
That have less happy chance.

To rise by others’ fall
I deem a losing gain;
All states with others’ ruin built,
To ruin run amain.
_Southwell._

Here are no false entrapping baits,
To hasten too, too hasty fates;
Unless it be
The fond credulity
Of silly fish, which, worldling like, still look
Upon the bait, but never on the hook:
Nor _envy_, unless among
The birds, for prize of their sweet song.
_Sir Walter Raleigh._

For every thing contains within itself
The seeds and sources of its own corruption;
The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel;
The moth frets out your garment, and the worm
Eats its slow way into the solid oak:
But _Envy_, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever,
Saps and consumes the heart in which it works.
_Cumberland._

_Envy_’s a sharper spur than pay,
And, unprovok’d,’t will court the fray.

* * * * *

Fools may our scorn, not _envy_, raise,
For _envy_ is a kind of praise.

* * * * *

Canst thou discern another’s mind?
What is’t you _envy_? _Envy_’s blind.
Tell _Envy_, when she would annoy,
That thousands want what you enjoy.
_Gay._

The lion craved the fox’s art;
The fox the lion’s force and heart;
The cock implored the pigeon’s flight,
Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light;
The pigeon strength of wing despised,
And the cock’s matchless valour prized.
The fishes wish’d to graze the plain;
The beasts to skim beneath the main.
Thus, _envious_ of another’s state,
Each blam’d the partial hand of fate.
_Gay._

Slander’d in vain, enjoy the spleen of foes;
Let these from _envy_ hate--from interest those!
Guilt, like the first, your gratitude requires,
Since none can _envy_ till he first admires;
And nature tells the last his crime is none,
Who to your interest but prefers his own.
_Aaron Hill._

What made the man of _Envy_ what he was,
Was worth in others, vileness in himself,
A lust of praise, with undeserving deeds,
And conscience poverty of soul; and still
It was his earnest work and daily toil,
With lying tongue, to make the noble seem
Mean as himself.
_Pollok._

ERROR.

Who can understand his _errors_? cleanse thou me from secret faults.--Psalm xix. 12.

For the vile person will speak villany, and his heart will work iniquity, to practise hypocrisy, and to utter _error_ against the Lord.--Isaiah, xxxii. 6.

Beware lest ye also, being led away with the _error_ of the wicked, fall from your own stedfastness.--II. Peter, iii. 17.

A good that never satisfies the mind,
A beauty fading like the April flowers,
A sweet with floods of gall that runs combined,
A pleasure passing ere in thought made ours,
An honour that more fickle is than wind,
A glory at opinion’s frown that lowers,
A treasury which bankrupt time devours,
A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind;
A vain delight our equals to command,
A style of greatness, in effect a dream,
A swelling thought of holding sea and land,
A servile lot, decked with a pompous name;
Are the strange ends we toil for here below,
Till wisest death makes us our _errors_ know.
_Drummond._

Swifter than feathered arrow in the wind,
Than winged vessel on the yielding tide,
Than river shooting down the mountain side,
Than foot o’er champaign of the slender hind,
To _error’s_ flowery vale, the headlong mind
Is prone, without a curb, to fly aside;
Neither by dangers of the path untried,
Nor roughest road, nor highest Alp confined.
But if the way of truth upon the right
It follows, like slow worm, or bird unfledged,
At every twig it checks, and stone, and rill.
Great guide! make strong my pinions for the flight
In that true course; by every other hedged,
And lift and bring me to thy holy hill!
_From the Italian of Tarsia._

“But what is _error_?--Answer he who can!”
The Sceptic somewhat haughtily exclaimed:
“Love, Hope, and Admiration--are they not
Mad Fancy’s favourite vassals? Does not life
Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin,
Guides to destruction? Is it well to trust
Imagination’s light when Reason’s fails,
The unguarded taper where the guarded faints?
--Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare
What _error_ is; and of our _errors_, which
Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats
Of power, where are they? Who shall regulate,
With truth, the scale of intellectual rank?”
_Wordsworth._

Thus _error’s_ monstrous shapes from earth are driven;
They fade, they fly--but truth survives their flight;
Earth has no shades to quench that beam of heaven;
Each ray that shone, in early time, to light
The faltering footsteps in the path of right,
Each gleam of clearer, brightness, shed to aid
In man’s maturer day his bolder sight,
All blended, like the rainbow’s radiant braid,
Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot fade.
_W. C. Bryant._

_Error_ is a hardy plant; it flourisheth in every soil;
In the heart of the wise and good, alike with the wicked and
foolish:
For there is no _error_ so crooked, but it hath in it some
lines of truth:
Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some wholesome
use:
And the just man, enamoured of the right, is blinded by the
speciousness of wrong,
And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is content to overlook
the harm.
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God,
Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of
corruption:
And if _error_ cometh in like a flood, it mixeth with the streams
of truth;
And the adversary loveth to have it so, for thereby many are
decoyed.
_Martin F. Tupper._

ESTATE.

O give thanks unto the God of Gods: for His mercy endureth for ever.

Who remembered us in our low _estate_: for His mercy endureth for ever.--Psalm cxxxvi. 2, 23.

And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord,

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded the low _estate_ of His handmaiden.--Luke, i. 46, 47, 48.

Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low _estate_.--Romans, xii. 16.

Go, miser! go; for lucre sell thy soul;
Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole,
That men may say, when thou art dead and gone,
See what a vast _estate_ he left his son.
_Dryden._

Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er _estate_,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do,
For the Lord on whom I wait.
_Ann L. Waring._

Oh yes! I have a goodly heritage,
A vast _estate_ is mine;
My title deeds are on the sacred page,
Writ by a hand divine.

The land is fruitful, yielding all things good,
An overflowing store;
To satisfy the utmost wish, nor could
My spirit ask for more.

’Tis in a pleasant country--this _estate_--
Of ever-new delight;
No storms are there to chill and devastate,
There comes no gloomy night.

My tenor is inviolate; for death
Signs, seals, and opes the door,
That me into possession ushereth,
There to dwell evermore.
_Egone._

ETERNITY.

For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth _eternity_, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place.--Isaiah, lvii. 15.

For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, _eternal_ in the heavens.--II. Corinthians, v. 1.

Of that same time when no more change shall be,
But stedfastly rest all things, firmly stayed
Upon the pillars of _eternity_,
That is contraire to mutability;
For all that moveth doth in change delight;
But thenceforth all shall rest _eternally_,
With Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight.
_Spenser._

Him, blessed Shepherd,
His flocks shall follow through the maze of life,
And shades that tend to day spring from on high;
And as the radiant roses, after fading,
In fuller foliage, and more fragrant breath,
Revive in smiling spring, so shall it be
With those that love Him: for sweet is their savour,
And all _eternity_ shall be their spring.
_Smart._

Man, (mortal creature,) fram’d to feel decays,
Thine unresisted power at pleasure sways,
Thou say’st return, and parting souls obey,
Thou say’st return, and bodies fall to-day.
For what’s a thousand fleeting years with Thee?
Or Time compared with long _eternity_?
Whose wings expanding infinitely vast,
O’erstretched its utmost ends of first and last.
_Parnell._

We strive with earthly imagings,
To reach and understand
The wondrous and the fearful things
Of an _eternal_ land.

But soon the doubt, the toil, the strife
Of earth shall all be done,
And knowledge of our endless life
Be in a moment won.
_Otway Curry._

Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
’Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates _eternity_ to man.
_Addison._

The _Eternal_ Life, beyond the sky,
Wealth cannot purchase, nor the high
And proud estate;
The soul in dalliance laid,--the spirit
Corrupt with sin,--shall not inherit
A joy so great.
_Longfellow, from the Spanish._

Our better nature pineth--let it be!
Thou human soul--earth is no home for thee;
Thy starry rest is in _eternity_.
_Miss Landon._

He of the lion-voice, the rainbow-crowned,
Shall stand upon the mountains and the sea,
And swear by earth, by Heaven’s throne, and Him
Who sitteth on the throne, there shall be Time
No more, no more! Then veiled _Eternity_
Shall straight unveil her awful countenance
Unto the reeling world, and take the place
Of seasons, years and ages. Aye and aye
Shall be the time of day!
_Miss Barrett._

Time! whither dost thou flee?
--I travel to _eternity_,
_Eternity!_ what art thou?--say!
--Time past--time present--time to come--to-day.
_J. Montgomery._

See, how beneath the moonbeams’ smile
Yon little billow heaves its breast,
And foams and sparkles for awhile,
And murmuring then subsides to rest.

Thus man, the sport of bliss and care,
Rises on time’s eventful sea;
And having swelled a moment there,
Thus melts into _eternity_.
_Moore._

EVENING.

_Evening_, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and he shall hear my voice.--Psalm lv. 17.

It shall come to pass, that at _evening_ time it shall be light.--Zechariah, xiv. 7.

Abide with us: for it is toward _evening_, and the day is far spent.--Luke, xxiv. 29.

Now came still _evening_ on, and twilight grey
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird--
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests--
Were shrunk, all but the wakeful nightingale:
She all night long her beauteous descant sung:
Silence was pleased. Now glow’d the firmament
With living sapphires. Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil’d her peerless light,
And o’er the dark her silver mantle threw:
When Adam thus to Eve, “Fair consort, the hour
Of night, and all things now retired to rest,
Mind us of long repose, since God has set
Labour and rest, as day and night to men
Successive, and the timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft cumbrous weight, inclines
Our eyelids. Other creatures all day long
Rove idle unemployed, and less need rest:
Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of heaven on all his ways,
While other animals inactive range,
And of their doings God takes no account.”
_Milton._

Then is the time
For those whom wisdom, and whom nature charm,
To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd,
And soar above this little scene of things;
To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet,
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace,
And woo lone quiet in her silent walks.
_Thomson._

The sun hath sunk behind the hill,
But over earth, and sky, and air,
_Eve’s_ crimson tints are glowing still,
And tidings of to-morrow bear.

Thus hope, when sinks life’s happiness,
Upon our night of sorrow glows,
Promising brighter, endless bliss,
After our pilgrimage of woes.

The longing heart, whose wishes spring
To fond foreboding’s unknown land,
Borrows imagination’s wing,
Though fettered here in reason’s band.

Presumptuous! whither would’st thou fly?
Earth’s vapours mock thine eye of clay.
Mark crimson _evening’s_ golden sky,
And hope the morrow’s promised day.
_From the Swedish of Ingelgren._

Few bring back at _eve_,
Immaculate, the manners of the morn.
Something we thought is blotted; we resolved,
Is shaken; we renounced, returns again.
_Young._

Sweet after showers, ambrosial air,
That rollest from the gorgeous gloom
Of _evening_, over brake, and bloom,
And meadow, slowly breathing bare

The round of space, and rapt below
Through all the dewy-tassell’d wood,
And shadowing down the horned flood
In ripples, fan my brows and blow

The fever from my cheek, and sigh
The full new life that feeds thy breath
Throughout my frame, till doubt and death,
Ill brethren, let the fancy fly

From belt to belt of crimson seas
On leagues of odour streaming far,
To where in yonder orient star
A hundred spirits whisper “Peace.”
_Tennyson._

Pleasantly comest thou,
Dew of the _evening_, to the crisp’d up grass;
And the curl’d corn-blades bow,
And the light breezes pass,
That their parch’d lips may feel thee, and expand,
Thou sweet reviver of the fever’d land.

So, to the thirsting soul,
Cometh the dew of the Almighty’s love;
And the scathed heart, made whole,
Turneth in joy above,
To where the spirit freely may expand,
And rove, untrammelled, in that better “land.”
_W. D. Gallagher._

Behold the western _evening_-light!
It melts in deepening gloom;
So calmly Christians sink away,
Descending to the tomb.

The winds breathe low; the withering leaf
Scarce whispers from the tree;
So gently flows the parting breath,
When good men cease to be.

How beautiful on all the hills
The crimson light is shed!
’Tis like the peace the Christian gives
To mourners round his bed.

How mildly on the wandering cloud
The sunset beam is cast;
’Tis like the memory left behind,
When loved ones breathe their last.

And now above the dews of night,
The yellow star appears;
So faith springs in the heart of those
Whose eyes are bathed in tears.

But soon the morning’s happier light
Its glory shall restore,
And eyelids that are seal’d in death.
Shall wake, to close no more.
_Peabody._

EXAMPLE.

If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet: ye also ought to wash one another’s feet.

For I have given you an _example_, that ye should do as I have done to you.--John, xiii. 14, 15.

Be thou an _example_ of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.--I. Timothy, iv. 12.

Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an _example_ of suffering affliction, and of patience.--James, v. 10.

Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an _example_, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.--Jude, i. 7.

Taught this by his _example_, whom I now
Acknowledge my Redeemer, ever blest!
_Milton._

Since great _examples_ justify command,
Let glorious acts more glorious acts inspire,
And catch from breast to breast the noble fire.
_Pope, from Homer._

His faults, that in a private station sits,
Do mainly harm him only that commits:
Those placed on high a bright _example_ owe,--
Much to themselves, more to the crowd below.

A paltry watch, in private pocket borne,
Misleads but him alone by whom ’tis worn:
But the town-clock that domes or towers display,
By going wrong, leads half the world astray.
_C. C. Colton._

Ye who look for great _examples_
O’er the wide historic page:--
Teachers, who with good ensamples
Would the thoughts of youth engage!
To the sacred record turning,
There behold the perfect man!
There the light, for ever burning;
Match its lustre, if you can!
Imitate the Great _Example_,
Humbly as a Christian should,
Ever like that bright ensample,
Speaking well and doing good.
_Egone._

FAITH.

For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from _faith_ to _faith_: as it is written, the just shall live by _faith_.--Romans, i. 17.

So then _faith_ cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.--Romans, x. 17.

By grace are ye saved through _faith_.--Ephesians, ii. 8.

The shield of _faith_, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.--Ephesians, vi. 16.

Now _faith_ is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.--Hebrews, xi. 1.

But without _faith_ it is impossible to please Him: for he that cometh to God, must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.--Hebrews, xi. 6.

For as the body without the spirit is dead, so _faith_ without works is dead also.--James, ii. 26.

If bliss had lien in art or strength,
None but the wise and strong had gained it;
Where now, by _faith_, all arms are of a length;
One size doth all conditions fit.

A peasant may believe as much
As a great clerk, and reach the highest stature;
Thus dost thou make proud knowledge bend and crouch,
While grace fills up uneven nature.

_Faith_ makes me any thing, or all
That I believe is in the sacred story;
And when sin placeth me in Adam’s fall,
_Faith_ sets me higher in his glory.
_George Herbert._

From purer manners to sublimer _faith_,
Is nature’s unavoidable ascent;
An honest deist, where the gospel shines,
Matured to nobler, in the christian ends.
_Young._

If weak thy _faith_, why choose the harder side?
We nothing know but what is marvellous;
Yet what is marvellous, we can’t believe.
So weak our reason, and so great our God,
What most surprises in the sacred page,
Or full as strange, or stranger, must be true.
_Faith_ is not reason’s labour, but repose.
_Young._

O ye, whom, struggling on life’s craggy road,
With obstacles and dangers, secret foes
Supplant, false friends betray, disastrous rage
Of elements, of war, of civil broil
Brings down to Poverty’s cold floor, while grief
Preys on the heart, and dims the sinking eye;
Faint not! There is, who rules the storm, whose hand
Feeds the young ravens, nor permits blind chance
To close one sparrow’s flagging wing in death.
Trust in the rock of ages. Now, even now
He speaks, and all is calm. Or if, to prove
Your inmost soul, the hurricane still spread
Its licensed ravages. He whispers hope,
Earnest of comfort; and through blackest night
Bids keen-eyed _Faith_ on heaven’s pure sunshine gaze,
And learn the glories of her future home.
_Gisborne._

The pious man
In this bad world, when mists and couchant storms
Hide heaven’s fine circlet, spring aloft in _faith_
Above the clouds that threat him, to the fields
Of ether, where the day is never veiled
With intervening vapours, and looks down
Serene upon the troublous sea, which hides
The earth’s fair breast; that sea whose nether face
To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all,
But on whose billowy back, from man conceal’d
The glowing sunbeams play.
_H. K. White._

Through _Faith_ on earth, man holds a life sublime,
And in the past and future, as he lists,
Expatiates, and confers with every clime.
Through _faith_ he knows whereby the frame subsists,
Of the expanded universe, by whom
Created, and whereto it yet exists;
A stranger and a pilgrim till the tomb
Opens the way to the celestial land,
Where God prepares a city, as a womb.
So hopeful o’er the grave the _faithful_ stand,
Wherein their brethren in the dust repose,
Grasped in the Father’s Omnipresent hand.
_J. A. Heraud._

I saw in visions of still thought reveal’d,
Two silent forms before me; both were fair,
But yet how much unlike that voiceless pair,
Except in outward beauty. One appeal’d
To all, save hearts by pride and passion steel’d,
With meek-eyed gentleness; and seem’d to wear
Mixt with each human charm, an heavenlier air,
To which humanity had wisely kneel’d.
Beautiful was the other’s speechless shade,
And called herself Philosophy; but proud,
Cold, statue-like, she look’d upon the crowd,
Who to the lovelier spirit homage paid--
Her name was Scepticism! That gentler maid
Was titled _Faith_ by acclamation loud!
_B. Barton._

Behold the chamber where the Christian sleeps,
And where, from year to year, he prays and weeps;
Whence, in the midnight watch, his prayers arise
To those bright mansions where his treasure lies,
How near it is to all that _Faith_ can see;
How short and peaceful may his passage be!
One beating pulse, one feeble struggle o’er,
May open wide the everlasting door;
Yes, for that bliss unspeakable unseen,
Is ready, and the veil of flesh between
A gentle sigh may rend, and then display
The broad full splendour of an endless day.
--This bright conviction elevates his mind,
He presses forward, leaving all behind.
Thus from his throne the tyrant foe is hurl’d--
This is the _Faith_ that overcomes the world.
_Jane Taylor._

Thou ask’st why Christ so lenient to the deed,
So sternly claims the _Faith_ which founds the creed;
Because, reposed in _Faith_, the soul has calm;
The hope a haven, and the wound a balm;
Because the light, dim seen in Reason’s dream,
On all alike, through _faith_ alone, could stream.
God willed support to weakness, joy to grief,
And so descended from His throne, BELIEF!
_Sir E. B. Lytton._

To reason less is to imagine more;
They most aspire, who, meekly, most adore--
Therefore the God-like Comforter’s decree--
“His sins be loosened who hath _faith_ in me.”
_Sir E. B. Lytton._

O, thou that rearest with celestial aim
Thy future seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice holy _Faith_! whatever thorns I meet,
As on I totter with unpractised feet,
Still let me stretch my arms, and cling to thee,
Meek nurse of souls, through my long infancy!
_Coleridge._

As evening’s pale and solitary star
But brightens while the darkness gathers round;
So _Faith_, unmoved amid surrounding storms,
Is fairest seen in darkness most profound.

However deep be the mysterious word,
However dark, she disbelieves it not;
Where reason would examine, _Faith_ obeys,
And “It is written” answers every doubt.
_Caroline Fry._

Lo, when dangers closer threaten,
And thy soul draws near to death;
When assaulted sore by Satan,
Then present the shield of _Faith_:
Fiery darts of fierce temptations,
Intercepted by thy God,
Then shall lose their force in patience,
Sheathed in love, and quenched in blood.
_Hart._

Redeemed from fear, and washed from lustful blot,
By _Faith_ we then might rise above our lot;
And like Thy chosen few, restored within,
By hearts, as morning pure, might conquer sin.

* * * * *

_Faith_, Hope, and Love, together work in gloom;
What _Faith_ believes, Hope shapes in form and bloom,
And Love sends forth to daylight from the tomb.
_John Sterling._

O thou of little _faith_, lift up thine eyes!
Are the ten thousand glorious stars of night
But a vain dream, because thy feeble sight
May not behold them in the noon-day skies?
_Mary Howitt._

The steps of _Faith_
Fall on the seeming void, and find
The Rock beneath.
_J. G. Whittier._

Lady, there is one star, and one alone,
That tells the future. Its interpreter
Is in man’s heart, and is called Conscience:
The star, True _Faith_; the future that it shows
Is beyond human life.
_G. P. R. James._

_Faith_ is the Spirit’s sweet control,
From which assurance springs,
_Faith_ is the pencil of the soul,
That pictures heavenly things.

_Faith_ is the conq’ring host that storms
The battlements of sin,
_Faith_ is the quick’ning fire that warms
The trembling heart within.

O Rock of Ages, Fount of Bliss,
Thy needful help afford,
And let our constant prayer be _this_--
“Increase my _faith_, O Lord.”
_J. Burbidge._

We walk by _faith_, and not by sight,
Along this vale of tears,
’Till our wrapt souls shall wing their flight
To Heaven’s unclouded spheres.

Triumphant then o’er sin and death,
We’ll praise our living head,
And, looking back, behold the path,
Through which we have been led.
_W. J. Brock._

FALL.

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.

Though he _fall_, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand.--Psalm xxxvii. 23, 24.

And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:

And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it _fell_: and great was the _fall_ of it.--Matthew, vii. 26, 27.

And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the _fall_ and rising again of many in Israel.--Luke, ii. 34.

Poor race of men! said the pitying Spirit,
Dearly ye pay for your primal _Fall_--
Some flowerets of Eden ye still inherit,
But the trail of the serpent is over them all!
_Thomas Moore._

Alas--the evil that we fain would shun
We do, and leave the wished-for good undone;
Our strength to-day
Is but to-morrow’s weakness, prone to _fall_;
Poor, blind, unprofitable servants, all,
Are we alway.
_J. G. Whittier._

Grim-hearted world, that look’st with Levite eyes
On those poor _fallen_ by too much faith in man,
She that upon thy freezing threshold lies,
Starved to more sinning by thy savage ban,--
Seeking that refuge because foulest vice
More godlike than thy virtue is, whose span
Shuts out the wretched only,--is more free
From all her crimes than thou wilt ever be.
Thou wilt not let her wash thy dainty feet
With such salt things as tears, or with rude hair
Dry them, soft Pharisee, that sit’st at meat
With him who made her such, and speak’st him fair,
Leaving God’s wandering lamb the while to bleat
Unheeded, shivering in the pitiless air:
Thou hast made prisoned virtue shew more wan
And haggard, than a vice to look upon.
_James R. Lowell._

FAME.

So the Lord was with Joshua; and his _fame_ was noised throughout all the country.--Joshua, vi. 27.

And the _fame_ of David went out into all lands; and the Lord brought the fear of him upon all nations.--I. Chronicles, xiv. 17.

And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people.

And his _fame_ went throughout all Syria.--Matthew, iv. 23, 24.

But _Fame_, alarmed, o’er Libya’s cities flies:
_Fame_, the most fleet of mischief’s progenies:
Who gathers speed from every passing hour;
Grows as she moves, and travels into power.
Timid and small at first, at length she shrouds,
While treading on the ground, her forehead in the clouds.
Offended at the gods, great parent Earth,
’Tis said, in vengeance gave the monster birth,
Of all her giant family the last;
A swift-wing’d portent, foul, deform’d, and vast,
Beneath each numerous plume, that lifts her flight,
An active eye extends her scope of sight.
As many ears, and mouths, and tongues she moves,
To catch and spread the rumours as she roves.
Midway ’twixt heaven and earth, through night she flies
Clanging, nor bathes in dewy sleep her eyes.
By day she keeps on watch, and takes her stand
On some high roof or tower of wide command;
And thence, alike for truth or falsehood loud,
She shakes the city and distracts the crowd.
_Symmons, from Virgil._

Let _fame_, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live register’d upon our brazen tombs,
And then grace us in the disgrace of death;
When, spite of cormorant-devouring time,
The endeavour of his present death may buy
That honour, which shall bate his scythe’s keen edge,
And makes us heirs of all eternity.
_Shakspere._

Then straight thro’ all the world ’gan _fame_ to fly;
A monster swifter none is under sun;
Increasing, as in waters we discry
The circles small, of nothing that begun,
Till of the drops, which from the skies do fall,
The circles spread and hide the waters all.
_Sackville._

_Fame_ is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble minds)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
_Fame_ is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
Nor in the glittering foil,
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies.
_Milton._

For _fame_ the wretch beneath the gallows lies,
Disowning every crime for which he dies,
Of life profuse, tenacious of a name,
Fearless of death, and yet afraid of shame.
Nature has wove into the human mind
This anxious care of names we leave behind.
To extend our narrow views beyond the tomb,
And give an earnest of a life to come;
For, if when dead, we are but dust or clay,
Why think of what posterity shall say?
Her praise or censure cannot us concern,
Nor ever penetrate the silent urn.
_Soame Jennins._

All _fame_ is foreign, but of true desert;
Plays round the head, but comes not near the heart;
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs
Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas;
And more true joy Marcellus exil’d feels,
Than Cæsar with a senate at his heels.

* * * * *

And what is _fame_? the meanest have their day;
The greatest can but blaze, and pass away.
_Pope._

I hate this _Fame_, false avarice of fancy,
The sickly shade of an unsolid greatness!
The lying lure of pride that Europe cheats by.
_Hill._

Absurd! to think to overreach the grave,
And from the wreck of names to rescue ours:
The best concerted schemes men lay for _fame_,
Die fast away; only themselves die faster.
_Blair._