Chapter L: S. Noble

8. LADY.--By the _low cradle_ thou delight'st to sit
Of sleeping infants, watching their soft breath.

CHARLOTTE SMITH.

9. You like a _ring_, an ancient ring,
Of massive form, and virgin gold;
As firm, as free from base alloy
As were the sterling hearts of old.

G. W. DOANE.

10. There's a room you love dearly, the sanctum of bliss,
That holds all the comforts you least like to miss;
Where, like ants in a hillock, you run in and out,
Where sticks grace the corner, and hats lie about,
With book-shelves, where tomes of all sizes are spread,
Not placed to be look'd at, but meant to be read.

ELIZA COOK.

11. GENTLEMAN.--Ah, how glorious to be free,
Your good _dog_ by your side,
With _rifle_ hanging on your arm,
To range the forest wide.

E. PEABODY.

11. LADY.-- To look into the smooth
Clear glass,
Where as you bend to look, just opposite,
A shape within the polish'd frame appears
Bending to look on you.

MILTON, _modified_.

12. Your sociable piazza,--you prize its quiet talk,
When arm in arm with one you love you tread the accustom'd walk,
Or loll within your rocking-chair, not over nice or wise,
And yield the careless confidence where heart to heart replies.

MRS. GILMAN.

13. An eye that will mark
Your coming, and look brighter when you come.

BYRON.

14. Give you a slight _flirtation_,
By the light of a chandelier,
With music to fill up the pauses
And nobody very near.

N. P. WILLIS.

15. Give all things else their honor due,
But _gooseberry-pie_ is best.

SOUTHEY.

16. An ever _drizzling_ raine upon the lofte,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sownde
Of murmuring bees.

SPENSER--_Fairy Queen_.

17. Oh, sweeter than the marriage feast,
'Tis sweeter far to thee,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company.

COLERIDGE--_Ancient Mariner_.

18. The world below hath not for thee
Such a fair and glorious sight,
As a noble _ship_ on a rippling sea
In the clear and full moonlight.

ELIZA COOK.

19. GENTLEMAN.-- A _noble horse_,
With flowing back, firm chest, and fetlocks clean,
The branching veins ridging the glossy lean,
The mane hung sleekly, the projecting eye
That to the stander near looks awfully,
The finish'd head in its compactness free,
Small, and o'er-arching to the bended knee,
The start and snatch, as if he felt the comb,
With mouth that flings about the creamy foam,
The snorting turbulence, the nod, the champing,
The shift, the tossing, and the fiery tramping.

LEIGH HUNT--_Rimini_.

19. LADY.-- Your witless puss;
While many a stroke of fondness glides
Along her back and tabby sides,
Dilated swells her glossy fur,
And softly sings her busy pur;
As timing well the equal sound,
Her clutching feet bepat the ground,
And all their harmless claws disclose
Like prickles of an early rose,
While softly from her whisker'd cheek
The half-closed eyes peer mild and meek.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

20. The tall larch sighing in the _burial place_,
Or willow trailing low its boughs, to hide
The gleaming marble.

W. C. BRYANT.

21. The dance,
Pleasant with graceful flatteries.

MISS LANDON.

22. You rather look on _smiling faces_,
And linger round a _cheerful hearth_,
Than mark the stars' bright hiding-places,
As they peep out upon the earth.

MRS. WELBY.

23. Wreathy _shells_, with lips of red,
On a beach of whiten'd sand.

HOSMER.

24. When to the startled eye the sudden glance
Appears far south, _eruptive, through the cloud_,
And following slower, in explosion vast,
The _thunder_ raises his tremendous voice.

THOMSON--_Seasons_.

25. GENTLEMAN.--"'Tis heaven to lounge upon a couch," said Gray,
"And read new novels through a rainy day."
Add but the Spanish weed, the bard was right.

SPRAGUE.

25. LADY.--Your moralizing knitting-work, whose threads most aptly
show
How evenly around life's span our busy threads should go;
And if a stitch perchance should drop, as life's frail stitches
will,
How, if we patient take it up, the work will prosper still.

MRS. GILMAN.

26. 'Tis pleasant, by the cheerful hearth, to hear
Of tempests, and the dangers of the deep,
And pause at times, and feel that we are safe,
Then listen to the perilous tale again,
And with an eager and suspended soul
Woo terror to delight us.

SOUTHEY--_Madoc_.

27. The _moon_,
Which kisseth every where, with silver lip,
Dead things to life.

KEATS.

28. The _insect_, that when evening comes,
Small though he be, and scarce distinguishable,
Unsheaths his wings, and through the woods and glades
Scatters a marvellous splendor.

ROGERS--_Italy_.

29. When down the green lane come heart-peals of laughter,
For school has sent its eldest inmates forth,
And when a smaller band comes dancing after,
Filling the air with shouts of infant mirth.

MRS. SCOTT.

30. _A couch near to a curtaining_,
Whose airy texture, from a golden string
Floating, into the room permits appear
Unveil'd, the summer heaven, blue and clear.

KEATS.

31. Dear to your heart are the scenes of your childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view,
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
And every loved spot which your infancy knew.

WOODWORTH.

32. To seek the patient _fisher's_ silent stand,
Intent, your angle trembling in your hand;
With looks unmoved to lure the scaly breed,
And eye the dancing cork and bending reed.

POPE.

33. _Converse_, which qualifies for solitude,
As exercise for salutary rest.

YOUNG--_Night Thoughts_.

34. GENTLEMAN.--To follow, fleetest of the fleet,
The _red deer_, driven along its native plains,
With cry of _hound_ and _horn_.

WORDSWORTH.

34. LADY.--One wild-flower from the path of love,
All lowly though it lie,
Is dearer than the wreath that waves
To stern ambition's eye.

H. T. TUCKERMAN.

35. The laugh-provoking _pun_; absurd
Though it be, far-fetched, hard to be discern'd,
It serves the purpose if it shake our sides.

GRAHAME.

36. You have a wish, and it is this--that in some uncouth glen,
It were your lot to find a spot, unknown by selfish men,
Where you might be securely free, like eremite of old,
From worldly guile, from woman's wile, and friendships brief
and cold.

MOTHERWELL.

37. You love the fields, the woods, the streams,
The wild-flowers fresh and sweet,
And yet you love no less than these
The crowded city street;
For _haunts of men_, where'er they be,
Awake your deepest sympathy.

MARY HOWITT.

38. Sleep,--soft closer of our eyes,
Low murmurer of tender lullabies.

KEATS.

39. You love the sweet _Sabbath_, that bids in repose
The plough in its mid-furrow stand.

DR. GILMAN.

40. Pleasant it is when woods are green,
And winds are soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene,
Where, the long drooping boughs between,
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
Alternate come and go.

LONGFELLOW.

41. GENTLEMAN.--To beat the surges under you,
And ride upon their backs; to tread the water
Whose enmity you flung aside, and breast
The surge most swollen, that meets you; your bold head
'Bove the contentious waves keeping, and oar
Yourself with your good arms, in lusty stroke
To the shore.

_Tempest._

41. LADY.--Beside the dimness of the _glimmering sea_,
with a dear friend to linger,
Beneath the gleams of the silver stars.

SHELLEY.

42. To pluck some way-side flower,
And _press it_ in the choicest nook
Of a much-loved and oft-read _book_.

J. R. LOWELL.

43. A wheel-footed _studying-chair_,
Contrived both for toil and repose,
Wide-elbow'd, and wadded with care,
In which you both scribble and doze.

COWPER.

44. GENTLEMAN.--Hurrah for you! the wind is up, it bloweth fresh and
free,
And every chord, instinct with life, pipes out its fearless glee;
Big swell the bosom'd sails with joy, and they madly kiss the
spray,
As proudly through the foaming surge the sea-king bears away.

MOTHERWELL.

44. LADY.--To place your lips to a spiral shell,
And breathe through every fold;
Or look for the depth of its pearly cell,
As a miser would look for gold.

MISS H. F. GOULD.

45. GENTLEMAN.-- The soil to tread
Where man hath nobly striven,
And life like incense hath been shed
An offering unto heaven.

MRS. HEMANS.

45. LADY.--The old _study-corner_ by a nook,
Crowded with volumes of the old romance.

N. P. WILLIS.

46. Ay, 'tis to you a glorious sight
To gaze on _ocean's_ ample face;
An awful joy, a deep delight,
To see his laughing waves embrace
Each other, in their frolic race.

GEORGE LUNT.

47. You love the _pictures_ that you see
At times in some _old gallery_;
You love them, although art may deem
Such pictures of but light esteem.

MARY HOWITT.

48. GENTLEMAN.-- A brown cigar,
A special, smooth-skinn'd, real Havanna.

MOTHERWELL.

48. LADY.--Your quiet, pleasant _chamber_, with the rose-vine
Woven round the casement.

MISS MITFORD.

49. _Old books_ to read!
Ay, bring those nodes of wit,
The brazen-clasp'd, the vellum writ,
Time-honor'd tomes.

HENRY CAREY.

50. A _youthful mother_ to her infant smiling,
Who with spread arms, and dancing feet,
And cooing voice, returns an answer sweet.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

51. GENTLEMAN.--To be toss'd on the waves alone, or mid the crew
Of joyous comrades, now the reedy marge
Clearing, with strenuous arm dipping the oar.

WORDSWORTH.

51. LADY.--When the sail is slack, the course is slow,
That at your leisure, as you coast along,
You may contemplate, and from every scene
Receive its influence.

ROGERS.

52. An antique _chair_,
Cushion'd with cunning luxury.

N. P. WILLIS.

53. You love a hand that meets your own
With grasp that causes some sensation;
You love a voice whose varying tone
From truth has learn'd its modulation.

MRS. OSGOOD.

54. When each and all come crowding round to share
A cordial greeting, the beloved sight;
When welcomings of hand and lip are there,
And when these overflowings of delight
Subside into a sense of quiet bliss,
Life hath no purer, deeper happiness.

SOUTHEY.

55. Oh yes, the poor man's garden!
It is great joy to thee,
This little, precious piece of ground,
Beside his door to see.
For in the poor man's garden grow
Far more than herbs and flowers,
Kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind,
And joy for weary hours.

MARY HOWITT.

56. To be sad, and say nothing.

_As You Like It._

57. Sweet _poetry_, the alchymy
Which turneth all it toucheth into gold.

MRS. DANA.

58. GENTLEMAN.-- With a _swimmer's_ stroke
To fling the billows back from your drench'd hair,
And laughing from your lip the audacious brine;
----rising o'er
The waves as they arise, and prouder still
The loftier they uplift thee; then, exulting,
With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep
The long suspended breath, again to spurn
The foam which breaks around thee, and pursue
Thy track like a sea-bird.

BYRON--_The Two Foscari_.

58. LADY.--A _needle_, which though it be small and tender,
Yet it is both a maker and a mender,
A grave reformer of old rents decay'd,
Stops holes, and seams, and desperate cuts display'd;
And for your country's quiet, you would like
That womankind should use no other pike.
It will increase their peace, enlarge their store,
To use their tongues less, and their needles more.
The needle's sharpness profit yields and pleasure,
But sharpness of the tongue bites out of measure.

JOHN TAYLOR--_Needle's Excellency_.

59. _Infant charms_,
Unconscious fascination, undesign'd;
The orison repeated in your arms,
The book, the bosom on your knee reclined,
The low sweet fairy lore to con.

CAMPBELL--_Gertrude of Wyoming_.

60. With _Shakspeare's self_ to speak and smile alone,
And no intruding visitation fear
To shame the unconscious laugh, or stop your sweetest tear.

CAMPBELL--_Gertrude of Wyoming_.

FOR WHAT HAVE YOU A DISTASTE OR AVERSION?

"I do not like you, Dr. Fell--
"The reason why I cannot tell;
"But this I know full well,
"I do not like you, Dr. Fell."

FOR WHAT HAVE YOU A DISTASTE OR AVERSION?

1. GENTLEMAN.--Three loud talking women,
That are discoursing of the newest fashion.

JOHN TOBIN.

1. LADY.--Ye say, "There is naething I hate like the men,
But the deuce gae wi'm to believe me."

BURNS.

2. The banquet-hall, the play, the ball,
Have lost their charms for thee.

G. P. MORRIS.

3. It's hardly in a body's power
To keep at times frae being sour,
To see how things are shared;
How best o' chiels are whiles in want,
While coofs on countless thousands rant,
And ken na how to wair't.

BURNS.

4. Oh, it is sad to look upon
The play-place of our youthful hours,
And mark what _wasting change_ hath run
As fire amid its bowers,
And sear'd its greenwood tree, and left
A trunk all blacken'd and bereft!

J. W. MILLER.

5. Conversation, when reduced to say
The hundredth time what you have said before.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

6. You never speak the word _farewell_
But with an utterance faint and broken,
A heart-sick yearning for the time
When it shall never more be spoken.

BOWLES.

7. GENTLEMAN.--Now, my lord, as for tripe, it's your utter aversion.

GOLDSMITH--_Haunch of Venison_.

7. LADY.--An _exquisite_ of the highest stamp.

ALBERT PIKE.

8. To see
Things of no better mould
Than thou thyself art, greedily
In Fame's bright page enroll'd.

MOTHERWELL.

9. Weaving spiders.--
Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!

_Midsummer Night's Dream._

10. You have no taste for _pomp_ and _strife_,
Which others love to find;
Your only wish, that bliss of life,
A poor and quiet mind.

CLARE.

11. You like not this _phrenology_,
This system of unfolding
The secret of a man's desires
To every one's beholding.

R. M. CHARLTON.

12. The sullen passion, and the hasty pet,
The swelling lip, the tear-distended eye,
The peevish question, the perverse reply.

HAYLEY--_Triumphs of Temper_.

13. Nor do you love that common phrase of guests,
As, _we make bold_, or, _we are troublesome_;
_We take you unprovided_, and the like;
----nor that common phrase of hosts,
_Oh, had I known your coming, we'd have had_
_Such things and such_; nor blame of cook, to say,
_This dish or that hath not been served with care_.

THOMAS HEYWOOD AND RICHARD BROOME--_The Late Lancashire
Witches_.

14. Tales of love were wont to weary you;
I know you joy not in a _love-discourse_.

_Two Gentlemen of Verona._

15. 'Tis a dreary thing to be
_Tossing on the wide, wide sea_,
When the sun has set in clouds,
And the wind sighs through the shrouds,
With a voice and with a tone
Like a living creature's moan!

EPES SARGENT.

16. _To hear the French talk French_ around you,
And wonder how they understand each other;
To hearken, and find all attempts confound you
At guessing what they mean by all their pother.

BYRON--_Giuseppino_.

17. _Books!_ out upon them; faithless chroniclers
Mere wordy counsellors--cold comforters
In the hour of sorrow.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS.

18. Your curse upon the venom'd slang
That shoots your tortured _gums_ alang,
An' through your lugs gies mony a twang,
Wi' gnawing vengeance;
Tearing your nerves wi' bitter pang,
Like racking engines.

BURNS.

19. As for stupid _reason_,
That stalking, ten-foot rule,
She's always out of season,
A tedious, testy fool.

MRS. FOLLEN.

20. GENTLEMAN.--That most active member of mortal things,
A _woman's tongue_; something like a smoke-jack,
For it goes ever, without winding up.

JOHN TOBIN--_Honey Moon_.

20. LADY.--You would rather hear your dog bark at a crow,
Than a man swear he loves you.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

21. Age is dark and unlovely; it is like the glimmering light of the
moon when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist is on
the hills: the blast of the north is on the plain; the traveller
shrinks in the midst of his journey.

OSSIAN.

22. To have _odd quirks_ and remnants of _wit_ broken on you.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

23. Whenever a change is wrought,
And you know not the reason why,
In your own or an old friend's thought.

BARRY CORNWALL.

24. You are weary of the endless theme of Cupid's smiles and sighs,
You are sick of reading rigmaroles about "my lady's eyes;"
You cannot move, you cannot look around, below, above,
But men and women, birds and bees, are prating about love.

R. M. CHARLTON.

25. You hate _ingratitude_ more in man,
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

_Twelfth Night._

26. There are haughty steps that would walk the globe
O'er necks of humbler ones;
_You_ would scorn to bow to their jewell'd robes,
Or the beam of their _coin-lit_ suns.

MISS L. P. SMITH.

27. You'd rather hear a brazen candlestick turn'd,
Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree,
And that would set your teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as _mincing poetry_.

_Henry IV._

28. In your soul you loathe
All _affectation_. 'Tis your perfect scorn,
Object of your implacable disgust.

COWPER--_Task_.

29. GENTLEMAN.--To pick up fans and knitting-needles,
And list to songs, and tunes, and watch for smiles,
And smile at pretty prattle.

BYRON--_Werner_.

29. LADY.--An a lover be _tardy_, you had as lief be wooed of a
snail; for though the snail comes slowly, he carries his house on
his head.

_As You Like It._

30. That the _king_ should reign on a throne of gold,
Fenced round by his power divine;
That the _baron_ should sit in his castle old,
Drinking his ripe red wine;
While below, below, in his ragged coat,
The _beggar_ he tuneth a hungry note,
And the _spinner_ is bound to his weary thread,
And the _debtor_ lies down with an aching head.

BARRY CORNWALL.

31. Lighted halls,
Cramm'd full of fools and fiddles.

R. C. SANDS.

32. To hear
The roaring of the raging elements,
To know all human skill, all human strength
Avail not; to look round, and only see
The mountain wave, incumbent with its weight
Of bursting waters o'er the reeling bark;--
Oh, God, this is indeed a dreadful thing!
And he who hath endured the horror once
Of such an hour, doth never hear the storm
Howl round his home, but he remembers it,
And thinks upon the suffering mariner.

SOUTHEY--_Madoc_.

33. I perceive you delight not in _music_.

_Merry Wives of Windsor._

34. You hate the gold and silver which persuade
Weak men to follow _far-fatiguing trade_;
Who madly think the flowery mountain's side,
The fountain's murmur, and the valley's pride,
The river's flow, less pleasing to behold
Than dreary deserts, if they lead to _gold_.

COLLINS--_Eclogues_.

35. To climb life's worn and heavy wheel,
Which draws up _nothing new_.

YOUNG--_Night Thoughts_.

36. To tax a _bad voice_ to slander music. An he had been a dog that
should have howled thus, they would have hanged him.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

37. It moves you more perhaps than folly ought,
When some _green heads_, as void of wit as thought,
Suppose themselves monopolists of sense,
And wiser mens' ability pretence.

COWPER.

38. GENTLEMAN.--A _woman moved_, which like a fountain troubled
(Is) muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And in no wise is meet or reasonable.

_Taming of the Shrew._

38. LADY.-- The heavens preserve me
From that dull blessing, an _obedient husband_.

TOBIN--_Honey Moon_.

39. You're tired of _visits_, _modes_, and _forms_,
And _flatteries_ paid to fellow-worms;
Their conversation cloys.

DR. WATTS.

40. The _spider_, that weaver of cunning so deep,
Who rolls himself up in a ball to sleep.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

41. A _fly_ that tickles the nasal tip.

MISS H. F. GOULD.

42. _Man_ delights not thee; no, nor _woman_ neither.

_Henry IV._

43. Church-yards _unadorn'd with shades_
And _blossoms_----Naked rows of graves
And melancholy ranks of monuments;
----where the course grass between
Shoots up its dull green spikes, and in the wind
Hisses;
----where the neglected bramble
Grows near the dead.

BRYANT.

44. You all _punctilios_ hate,
Though long familiar with the great.

SWIFT.

45. That he who's right, and he who swerveth,
Meet at the goal the same,
Where no one hath what he deserveth,
Not even an empty name.

BARRY CORNWALL.

46. Wooing, wedding, and repenting.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

47. Soft-buzzing _slander_--silky moth that eats
An honest name.

THOMSON.

48. The blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
The light pump, and freckled feet--
Of the _musquito_.

BRYANT.

49. You do not like _but yet_;
_But yet_ is as a jailer to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor.

_Antony and Cleopatra._

50. GENTLEMAN.-- You'd rather
Ride a day's hunting on an outworn jade,
Than _follow in the train of a great man_
In his dull pageantries.

BYRON--_Werner_.

50. LADY.--Never yet did housewife notable
Greet with a smile a _rainy washing-day_.

MRS. BARBAULD.

51. Thou dread'st to see
The glowing summer sun,
And balmy blossoms on the tree
Unfolding one by one;
They speak of things which once have been,
But never more can be:
And earth all deck'd in smiles again
Is still a waste to thee.

SARAH H. WHITMAN.

52. Softest winds are dreary,
And summer sunlight weary,
And sweetest things uncheery,
You know not why.

J. R. LOWELL.

53. The _Guinea-hen_,
Which keeps a piercing and perpetual scream.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

54. Sleep, infested with the burning sting
Of _bug_ infernal, who the live-long night
With direst suction sips thy liquid gore.

ROBERT FERGUSON.

55. When you behold a spider
Prey on a fly, a magpie on a worm,
Or view a butcher, with horn-handled knife,
Slaughter a tender lamb as dead as mutton,
Indeed, indeed you're very, very sick!

HORACE AND JAMES SMITH--_Rejected Addresses_.

56. Where'er that place the priests ca' hell,
Whence a' the tones of misery yell,
And ranked plagues their numbers tell,
In dreadfu' row,
Thou, _toothache_, surely bear'st the bell
Amang them a'!

BURNS.

57. You scorn this hated scene
Of masking and disguise,
Where men on men still gleam
With falseness in their eyes,
Where all is counterfeit,
And truth hath never say,
Where hearts themselves do cheat,
Concealing hope's decay,
And, writhing at the stake,
Themselves do liars make.

MOTHERWELL.

58. You call the time misspent that is bestow'd
On loud-tongued orators, whose art it is
To launch their hearers upon passion's tide,
And drive them on by gusts of windy words.

CUMBERLAND--_Calvary_.

59. You do despise a _liar_ as you do despise one that is false, or
as you despise one that is not true.

_Merry Wives of Windsor._

60. _Songs and unbaked poetry_,
Such as the dabblers of our time contrive,
That has no weight, nor wheel to move the mind,
Nor indeed nothing but an empty sound.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--_The Elder Brother_.

WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR RESIDENCE?

The World was all before her, where to choose
Her place of rest, and Providence her guide.

MILTON.

The _mind_ is its own place, and of itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

MILTON.

WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR RESIDENCE?

1. Near some fair town you'll have a _private seat_,
Built uniform, not little, nor too great;
It shall within no other things contain,
But what are useful, necessary, plain;
A little garden grateful to the eye,
While a cool rivulet runs murmuring by.

_Pomfret's Choice._

2. Amongst the vines,
See'st thou not where thy _villa_ stands? The moonbeam
Strikes on the granite column, and mountains
Rise sheltering round it.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS.

3. Child of the _town_ and _bustling street_,
What woes and snares await thy feet!
Thy paths are paved for many miles,
Thy groves and hills are peaks and tiles.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

4. _A warm but simple home_, where thou'lt enjoy
With one, who shares thy pleasures and thy heart,
Sweet converse, sipping calm the fragrant lymph
Which neatly is prepared.

COWPER.

5. _Low in the glen_,
Down which a little stream hath furrow'd deep
'Tween meeting birchen boughs, a shelvy channel,
And brawling mingles with the western tide.
Far up the stream, almost beyond the roar
Of storm-bulged breakers, foaming o'er the rocks
With furious dash, your lowly dwelling lurks,
Surrounded by a circlet of the stream.
Before the wattled door, a greensward plat
With daises gay, pastures a playful lamb.
A pebbly path, deep-worn, leads up the hill,
Winding among the trees, by wheel untouch'd.
On every side it is a shelter'd spot,
So high and suddenly the woody steeps
Arise. One only way, downward the stream,
Just o'er the hollow, 'tween the meeting boughs,
The distant wave is seen, with now and then
The glimpse of passing sail; though when the breeze
Cresteth the distant wave, this little nook
Is all so calm, that on the limberest spray
The sweet bird chanteth motionless, the leaves
At times scarce fluttering.

GRAHAME--_Birds of Scotland_.

6. Neat is your house; each table, chair, and stool
Stands in its place, or moving, moves by rule;
No lively print or picture grace the room,
A plain brown paper lends its decent gloom.

CRABBE.

7. _A summer lodge amid the wild_,--
'Tis shadow'd by the tulip-tree, 'tis mantled by the vine;
The wild plum sheds its yellow fruit from fragrant thickets nigh,
And flowery prairies from the door stretch till they meet the sky.

BRYANT.

8. _Beside a public way_,
Thick strewn with summer dust, and a great stream
Of people hurrying to and fro.

SHELLEY.

9. Crowning a gradual hill, your mansion swells
In ancient English grandeur; turrets, spires,
And windows, climbing high from base to roof,
In wide and radiant rows, bespeak its birth
Coeval with those rich cathedral fanes,
(Gothic ill-famed,) where harmony results
From disunited parts; and shapes minute,
At once distinct and blended, boldly form
One vast majestic whole.

W. MASON--_The English Garden_.

10. In a _proud city_ and a rich,
A city fair and old,
Fill'd with the world's most costly things,
Of precious stones and gold;
Of silks, fine wool, and spiceries,
And all that's bought and sold.

MARY HOWITT.

11. I see, I see the _rustic porch_,
And close beside the door
The old elm, waving still as green
As in the days of yore.
I see the wreathing smoke ascend
In azure columns up the sky,
I see the twittering swallow
Around in giddy circles fly.

T. MCLELLAN.

12. A house, whence, as by stealth, you catch
Among the hills a glimpse of busy life,
That sooths, not stirs.

ROGERS.

13. In stately dwelling built of squared _bricke_.

SPENSER.

14. A _city_, that great sea whose ebb and flow
At once is deaf and loud.
In its depth what treasure--you will see.

SHELLEY.

15. In a fair and _stately mansion_, with old woods
Girdled around.

HOWITT.

16. A _low, Sweet Home_,
A Pastoral Dwelling With Its Ivied Porch,
And Lattice, Gleaming Through the Leaves.

HEMANS.

17. You shall dwell in some bright little isle of your own,
In a blue summer ocean far off and alone,
Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers,
And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers.

MOORE.

18. You scarce upon the borders enter,
Before you're at the very centre.
Though small your farm, it has a house
Full large to entertain a mouse;
But if it's enter'd by a rat,
There is no room to bring a cat.
Round your garden is a walk
No longer than a tailor's chalk;
One salad makes a shift to squeeze
Up through a tuft you call your trees,
And, once a year, a single rose
Peeps from the bud, but never blows.
In vain then you'll expect its bloom,
It cannot blow for want of room.
In short, in all your boasted seat
There's nothing but _yourself_ that's great.

SWIFT.

19. Your _island_ lies nine leagues away;
Along its solitary shore
Of craggy rock, and sandy bay,
No sound but ocean's roar,
Save where the bold, wild sea-bird makes her home,
Her shrill cry coming through the sparkling foam.

R. H. DANA.

20. Sweet sights, sweet sounds, all sights all sounds excelling;
Oh, 'tis a ravishing spot, form'd for a Poet's dwelling!

DRAKE.

21. _A city_
Where trade and joy in every _busy street_
Mingling are heard, and in whose _crowded ports_
The rising masts an endless prospect yield.

THOMSON.

22. A _valley_, from the river shore withdrawn,
Shall be your home--two quiet woods between,
Whose lofty verdure overlooks the lawn;
And waters, to their resting-place serene,
Come freshening and reflecting all the scene.

CAMPBELL.

23. Please step in
And visit roun' an' roun';
There's naught superfluous to gie pain
Or costly to be foun',
Yet a' is clean.

ALLAN RAMSAY--_Gentle Shepherd_.

24. A whitewash'd wall, a nicely sanded floor,
A varnish'd clock that clicks behind the door,
A chest contrived a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day;
While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show,
Ranged on the chimney, glisten in a row.

GOLDSMITH--_Deserted Village_.

25. How beautiful it stands,
Behind its elm-trees' screen,
With simple attic cornice crown'd,
All graceful and serene!

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

26. O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Your thoughts as boundless and your soul as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey your empire, and behold your _home_!

BYRON.

27. A _pastoral scene_ of your own land,
Groves darkly green, neat farms, and pastures gay
With golden flowers; brooks stealing over sand,
Or smooth-worn pebbles, murmuring light away;--
Blue rye-fields, yielding to the gentle hand
Of the cool west wind; scented fields of hay,
Falling in purple bloom!

PERCIVAL.

28. A pleasant aspect shall your _parlor_ wear,--
Pictures, and busts, and books, and flowers,
And a light hearth where one may sit for hours,
And feel the minutes in their rapid flight,
Yet never think to count them as they go;
The mind, in converse sweet, beguiled so.

MRS. A. M. WELLS.

29. A light commodious _chamber_
Looking out to the hills, and where the shine
Of the great sun may enter.

MARY HOWITT.

30. It is a _chosen plot of fertile land_,
Emongst wide waves sett, like little nest,
As if it had by nature's cunning hand
Bene choycely picked out from all the rest,
And laid forth for ensample of the best.

SPENSER.

31. A _mansion_, where _domestic love_
And truth breathe simple kindness to the heart;
Where white arm'd childhood twines the neck of age;
Where hospitable cares light up the hearth,
Cheering the lonely traveller on his way.

MRS. GILMAN.

32. Thine be a _cot beside the hill_:
A beehive's hum shall sooth thine ear;
A willowy brook that turns the mill
With many a fall, shall linger near.

ROGERS.

33. The dense city's roofs
Throng around thee, and the vertic' sun
Pours from those glowing tiles a fervid heat
Upon your shrinking nerves.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

34. A _lodge_ of ample size,
But strange of structure and device;
Of such materials, as around
The workman's hand has readiest found.

SCOTT.

35. Among the jumbled heap of murky buildings.

KEATS.

36. You will be blest as now you are with friends, and home, and all
That in the exulting joy of love your own you fondly call;
Beloved and loving faces, that you've known so long and well,
The dear familiar places where your childish footsteps fell,
Where you join'd with careless heart and free your playmates'
blooming band,
As happy still as now in this,--you'll _tread your native land_.

MRS. OSGOOD.

37. On the well-sloped banks arise trim clumps,
Some round and some oblong, of shrubs exotic;
While, at respectful distance, rises up
The red brick wall, with flues and chimney-tops
And many a leafy crucifix adorn'd.
The smooth expanse,
Well cropp'd, and daily, as the owner's chin,
Not one irregularity presents,
Not even one grassy tuft in which a bird
May find a home and cheer the dull domain.

GRAHAME--_Birds of Scotland_.

38. The city's gloom, that falls
Where the same window fronts the same dull walls;
To see new, weary idlers tread once more
The mud or dust, which crowds have trod before,
Or the gay chariot loiter to await
Some fool you scorn, or envious flirt you hate.

DR. BROWN--_Bower of Spring_.

39. A _lone dwelling_, built by whom, or how,
None of the rustic island people know.
The isle and house are thine.--
Nature, with all her children, haunts the hill;
The spotted deer bask in the fresh moonlight,
Before thy gate.--Be this thy home in life.

SHELLEY.

40. In a city vast and populous,
Whose thronging multitude
Sends forth a sound afar off heard,
Strong as the ocean flood;
A strong, deep sound of many sounds,
Toil, pleasure, pain, delight,
And traffic, myriad-wheel'd, whose din
Ceases not day and night.

MARY HOWITT.

41. A _simple home_,
A plain well-order'd household, without show
Of wealth or fashion.

PERCIVAL.

42. All day within your dreary house
The doors upon their hinge will creak,
The blue-fly sing in the pane, the mouse
Behind the mouldering wainscot creep,
Or from the crevice peer about.

TENNYSON.

43. _Upon a green bank side_,
Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river,
Whose waters seem unwillingly to glide,
Like parting friends, who linger ere they sever.

DRAKE.

44. Where _streets_ are _stifling_, _bustling_, _noisy_, _dry_;
Hot are the pavements as an oven floor;
Dingy-red brick grows tiresome to the eye.

MARY HOWITT.

45. _Refinement's chosen seat_,
Art's trophied dwelling, learning's green retreat.

SPRAGUE.

46. I know the spot;
The curtain'd windows half exclude the light,
Yet eager still to make their way,
A thousand elfin sunbeams bright,
Glittering about the carpet play.
But what attracts you chiefly there
Is _one_ who in a cushion'd rocking-chair
Doth sit and read.

MRS. A. M. WELLS.

47. The wild wind sweeps across your low damp floors,
And makes a weary noise and wailing moan;
All night you hear the clap of broken doors,
That on their rusty hinges grate and groan;
And then old voices, calling from behind
The worn and wormy wainscot, flapping in the wind.

THOMAS MILLER.

48. In simple _western_ style,
With all your chambers on the lower floor;
In fact, of stories you will boast no more
Than simply one. 'Tis at the river's side,
And near it grows a noble sycamore;
A velvet lawn of green, outspreading wide,
Slopes smoothly down, to meet the ever-rippling tide.

MRS. DANA.

49. It is a _home to die for_, as it stands
Through its vine foliage, sending forth a sound
Of mirthful childhood o'er the green repose
And laughing sunshine of the pastures round.

HEMANS.

50. Gay apartments,
Where mimic life beneath the storied roof
Glows to the eye, and at the painter's touch
A new creation glows along the walls.

ARTHUR MURPHY--_Orphan of China_.

51. Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way,
Where round the cot's romantic glade are seen
The blossom'd bean-field, and the sloping green.

CAMPBELL.

52. A _lonesome lodge_,
That stands so lowe in lonely glen.
The little windowe dim and darke
Is hung with ivy, brier, and yewe;
No shimmering sun here ever shone,
No halesome breeze here ever blewe.
No chair, no table may you spye,
No cheareful hearth, no welcome bed,
Naught save a _rope_ with running noose,
That dangling hangs up o'er your heade.

PERCY'S RELIQUES--_Heir of Linne_.

53. The mountains, the mountains! amidst them is your home;
To their pure and sparkling fountains impatiently you come;
Their bleak and towering summits invade the dark blue sky,
But o'er their rudest ridges your fancy loves to fly.

DR. S. H. DICKSON.

54. A lowly roof;
Thou know'st it well, and yet 'twill seem more low
Than it was wont to seem, for thou wilt be
A visitant of loftier domes and halls,
Meet for the feet of princes.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

55. Your house a _cottage more_
Than _palace_, and will fitting be
For all your use, not luxury.
Your garden painted o'er
With Nature's hand, not Art's, will pleasures yield
Horace might envy in his Sabine field.

COWLEY.

56. You'll think yourself superbly off, though rather cramp'd in bed,
If your garret keep the winter rain from dropping on your head.

ALBERT PIKE.

57. A snug thack house; before the door a green,
Hens on the midding, ducks in pools are seen.
On this side stands a barn, on that a byre,
A peat-stack joins, an' forms a rural square.
The house is yours,--there shall we see you lean
And to your turfy seat invite a frien'.

ALLAN RAMSAY--_Gentle Shepherd_.

58. It is a quiet picture of delight,
Your humble cottage, hiding from the sun
In the thick woods. We see it not till then,
When at its porch. Rudely but neatly wrought,
Four columns make its entrance; slender shafts,
The rough bark yet upon them, as they came
From the old forest----
----Prolific vines
Have wreath'd them well, and half obscured the rinds
Unpromising that wrap them. Crowding leaves
Of glistening green, and clustering bright flowers
Of purple, in whose cups throughout the day
The humming-bird wantons boldly, wave around
And woo the gentle eye and delicate touch.
This is the dwelling, and 'twill be to thee
Quiet's especial temple.

W. G. SIMMS.

59. That dear old home!
Something of old ancestral pride it keeps,
Though fallen from its early power and vastness!
The sunlight seems to thy eyes brighter there
Than wheresoever else.

FANNY KEMBLE.

60. In a vale with dwellings strown,
One is standing all alone;
White it rises mid the leaves,
Woodbines clamber o'er its eaves,
And the honeysuckle falls
Pendant on its silent walls.
'Tis a cottage small and fair
As a cloud in summer air.

PARK BENJAMIN.

WHAT IS YOUR DESTINY?

You unconcern'd
And calm, can meet your coming destiny,
In all its charming, or its frightful shapes.

DR. WATTS.

I have an ear that craves for every thing,
That hath the smallest sign or Omen in it.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

Let me deem that
Some unknown influence, some sweet oracle,
Communicates between us though unseen,
In absence, and attracts us to each other.

BYRON.

WHAT IS YOUR DESTINY?

1. Ye'll draw a bonny silken purse;
Ye'll ca' your coach, ye'll ca' your horse.

BURNS.

2. Of the present much is bright,
And in the coming years I see
A brilliant and a cheering light,
Which burns before thee constantly.

W. D. GALLAGHER.

3. A better cellar nowhere can be found;
The pantry never is without baked meat,
And fish and flesh, so plenteous and complete:
It snows within your house of meat and drink,
Of all the dainties that a man can think.

CHAUCER.

4. GENTLEMAN.--Thine never was a woman's dower
Of tenderness and love!
Thou who canst chain the eagle's power,
Canst never tame the dove.

E. C. EMBURY.

4. LADY.--Let me gaze for a moment, that ere I die
I may read thee, lady, a prophecy.
That brow may beam in glory awhile,
That cheek may bloom, and that lip may smile,
But clouds shall darken that brow of snow,
And sorrow blight thy bosom's glow.

MISS L. DAVIDSON.

5. The best establishment in the city,
Coaches and horses, hounds and liveried servants.

MARY HOWITT.

6. Thou seest only what is fair,
Thou sippest only what is sweet;
Thou wilt mock at fate and care,
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat.

R. W. EMERSON.

7. Ye build, ye build, but ye enter not in!

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

8. I'll warrant thee from drowning, though thy
Ship were no stronger than a nut-shell.

_Tempest._

9. The sea of ambition is tempest-toss'd,
And thy hopes may vanish like foam;
But when sails are shiver'd and rudder lost,
Then look to the light of _home_!

MRS. HALE.

10. Your life's a summer even,
Whose sun of light, though set
Amidst the clouds of heaven,
Leaves streams of brightness yet.

BOWRING.

11. In a narrow sphere,
The little circle of domestic love,
You will be known and loved; the world beyond
Is not for you.

SOUTHEY.

12. Thou dwell'st on sorrow's high and barren place,
But round about the mount an angel-guard--
Chariots of fire, horses of fire--encamp,
To keep thee safe for heaven!

MRS. ELLET.

13. To cheer with sweet repast the fainting guest,
To lull the weary on the couch of rest,
To warm the traveller, numb'd with winter cold,
The young to cherish, to support the old,
The sad to shelter, and the lost direct--
These are your cares, and this your glorious task;
Can heaven a nobler give, or mortals ask?

SIR WILLIAM JONES.

14. The sordid cares in which you dwell
Shrink and consume your heart.

BRYANT.

15. A wide future is before you;
Your heart will beat for fame,
And you will learn to breathe with love
The music of a name,
Writ on the tablets of that heart
In characters of flame.

J. O. SARGENT.

16. To grow in the world's approving eyes,
In friendship's smile, and home's caress,
Collecting all the heart's sweet ties
Into one knot of happiness.

MOORE.

17. Sorely harass'd, and tired at last with fortune's vain
delusions, O,
You'll drop your schemes like idle dreams, and come to this
conclusion, O,--
The past was bad, the future hid, the good and ill untried, O,
But the present hour is in your power, and so you will enjoy it, O.

BURNS.

18. You will be blest exceedingly; your store
Grow daily, weekly, more and more,
And peace so multiply around,
Your very hearth seem holy ground.

MARY HOWITT.

19. With steady aim your fortune chase,
Keen hope let every sinew brace,
Through fair, through foul, urge on your race,
And seize the prey;
Then cannie, in some cozie place,
Thou'lt close life's day.

BURNS.

20. In your dreams a form you'll view,
That thinks on you and loves you too;
You start, and when the vision's flown
You'll weep that you are all alone.

H. K. WHITE.

21. Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night, study and ease
Together mix'd, sweet recreation,
And innocence which most doth please,
With meditation.

POPE.

22. GENTLEMAN.--A gentle lover shalt thou be,
Sitting at thy loved one's side;
She giving her whole soul to thee,
Without a thought or wish of pride,
And she shall be thy cherish'd bride.

J. R. LOWELL.

22. LADY.--Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow,
Thou shalt not escape calumny.

SHAKSPEARE.

23. Every day
A little life, a blank to be inscribed
With gentle deeds, such as in after time
Console, rejoice, whene'er you turn the leaf
To read them.

ROGERS.

24. Through many a clime 'tis yours to go,
With many a retrospection cursed;
And all your solace is to know,
Whate'er betide, you've known the worst.

BYRON.

25. Rouse to some high and holy work of love,
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know,
Shalt bless the earth while in the world above;
The good begun by thee shall onward flow,
In many a branching stream, and wider flow.

CARLOS WILCOX.

26. You shall go down as men have ever done,
And tread the pathway worn by common tramp.

A. C. COXE.

27. Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn,
And blooming peace shall ever bless thy morn
Succeeding years their happy race still run,
And age unheeded by delight come on.

PRIOR.

28. GENTLEMAN.--She's fair and fause that caused your smart,
You will lo'e her mickle and lang;
She will break her vow, she will break your heart,
And ye may e'en go hang.

BURNS.

28. LADY.--Gay hope is yours by fancy led,
Less pleasing when possess'd,
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.

GRAY.

29. Single as a stray glove.

FANNY KEMBLE.

30. GENTLEMAN.--You will not waste your spring of youth
In idle dalliance. You will plant rich seeds
To blossom in your manhood, and bear fruit
When you are old.

HILLHOUSE.

30. LADY.--To shrine within your heart's core one dear image,
To think of it all day, to dream all night.

MARY HOWITT.

31. The duties of a wedded life
Hath heaven ordain'd for thee.

SOUTHEY.

32. To love,
Love fondly, truly, fervently, and pine
When you have told your love, and sue in vain.

WORDSWORTH.

33. Hope, and health, and "learned leisure,"
Friends, books, thy thoughts.

BARRY CORNWALL.

34. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing;
Each morn will see some task begun,
Each evening see it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Will earn a night's repose.

LONGFELLOW.

35. You will go east, you will go west,
To seek for what you will not find,--
A heart at peace with its own thoughts,
A quiet and contented mind.
You will seek high, you will seek low,
But your search will be in vain.

LANDON.

36. A course of days composing happy months,
And they as happy years; the present still
So like the past, and both so firm a pledge
Or a congenial future, that the wheels
Of pleasure move without the aid of hope.

WORDSWORTH.

37. You will tread the path of fame,
And barter peace to win a name.

S. G. GOODRICH.

38. Each hour, each minute of your life
Shall be a golden holiday; and if a cloud
O'ercast thee, 'twill be light as gossamer.

G. COLEMAN.

39. A little, and content;
The faithful friend, and cheerful night,
The social scene of dear delight,
The conscience pure, the temper gay,
The musing eve and busy day.

THOMAS WARTON.

40. Live where your father lived, die where he dies;
Live happy, die happy.

POLLOK.

41. You'll use up life in anxious cares,
To lay up hoards for future years.

GAY.

42. You think of all the bubbles men are chasing;
They dream them worlds, because they're bright and fair;
You sit down with your book, your fireside facing,
And laugh to think of the wealth to which you are heir.

CRANCH.

43. Impell'd with steps unceasing to pursue
Some fleeting good that mocks thee with the view.

GOLDSMITH.

44. You'll have a clear and competent estate,
That you may live genteelly, but not great;
As much as you can moderately spend,
A little more, sometimes, to oblige a friend.

_Pomfret's Choice._

45. Rich, hated; wise, suspected; scorn'd if poor;
Great, feared; fair, tempted; high, still envied more.

SIR H. WOTTON.

46. GENTLEMAN.-- You love
A blooming lady, a conspicuous flower,
Admired for beauty, for her sweetness praised,
Whom you have sensibility to love,
Ambition to attempt, and skill to win.

WORDSWORTH.

46. LADY.--I fain would give to thee the loveliest things,
For lovely things belong to thee of right.

J. R. LOWELL.

47. Oh, you will still enjoy the cheerful day,
Till many years unheeded by have roll'd;
Pleased in your age to trifle life away,
And tell how much you loved ere you grew old.

HAMMOND--_Love Elegies_.

48. Endless labor all along,
Endless labor to do wrong.

DR. JOHNSON.

49. A fearful sign stands in thy house of life,
An enemy;----a fiend lurks close behind
The radiance of thy planet:--Oh, be warn'd!

COLERIDGE.

50. Thy God, in the darkest of days, will be
Greenness, and beauty, and strength to thee.

BARTON.

51. You were not meant to struggle from your birth,
To skulk and creep, and in mean pathways range;
Act with stern truth, large faith, and loving will,
Up and be doing.

J. R. LOWELL.

52. GENTLEMAN.--To die 'midst flame and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,
And death-shots falling thick and fast
As lightning from the mountain cloud.

HALLECK.

52. LADY.-- Death shall come
Gently, to one of delicate mould like thee,
As light winds wandering through groves of bloom
Detach the delicate blossom from the tree.

BRYANT.

53. I know that pleasure's hand will throw
Her silken nets about thee,
I know how lonesome friends will find
The long, long days without thee;
But in thy _letters_ there'll be joy,
The reading, the replying;
They'll kiss each word that's traced by thee,
Upon thy truth relying.

BAYLEY.

54. Your life shall be as it has been,
A sweet variety of joys.

R. H. WILDE.

55. Neither poverty
Nor riches,
But godliness so gainful
With content.
No painted pomp nor glory that
Bewitches;
A blameless life is your best monument,
And such a life that soars a--
Bove the sky,
Well pleased to live, but better pleased to die.

HUGH PETERS.

56. A life you'll lead
Which hath no present time, but is made up
Entirely of to-morrows.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

57. GENTLEMAN.--I see Lord Mayor written on your forehead.

MASSINGER.

57. LADY.--A marriage in May weather.

LEIGH HUNT--_Rimini_.

58. You'll have never a penny left in your purse,
Never a penny but three;
And one is brass, and another is lead,
And another is white money.

PERCY'S RELIQUES--_Heir of Linne_.

59. You will double your life's fading space,
For he that runs it well, runs twice his race;
And in this true delight,
These unbought sports, this happy state,
You will not fear, nor wish your fate;
But boldly say each night,
"To-morrow let my sun his beams display,
"Or in clouds hide them; _I have lived to-day_."

COWLEY.

60. Yet haply there will come a weary day,
When, over-task'd at length,
Both Love and Hope beneath the weight give way.
Then with a statue's smile, a statue's strength,
Stands the mute sister Patience, nothing loth,
And both supporting, does the work of both.

COLERIDGE.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
The oe ligature (one occurrence) has been replaced by 'oe'.

Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources. Many missing periods
were added.

The number 1. has been inserted at the start of each section (covered
by an illustrated drop cap in the original book.)

Except for those changes noted below, misspellings by the author,
misquotations, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.

Pg 14. 'MACAULY' replaced by 'MACAULAY'.
Pg 43. Note: author George Lillo is not listed in 'Catalogue of Authors'
at the front of the book.)
Pg 61. 'MACAULEY' replaced by 'MACAULAY'.

End of Project Gutenberg's Oracles from the Poets, by Caroline Gilman