Chapter IX: Part 9

POLITICS.

The freeman casting, with unpurchased hand,
The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.
_Poetry_. O.W. HOLMES.

A weapon that comes down as still
As snowflakes fall upon the sod;
But executes a freeman's will,
As lightning does the will of God:
And from its force, nor doors nor locks
Can shield you;--'t is the ballot-box.
_A Word from a Petitioner_. J. PIERPONT.

What is a Communist? One who has yearnings
For equal division of unequal earnings.
_Epigram_. E. ELLIOTT.

Measures, not men, have always been my mark.
_The Good-natured Man, Act ii_. O. GOLDSMITH.

Coffee, which makes the politician wise,
And see through all things with his half shut eyes.
_Rape of the Lock, Canto III_. A. POPE.

Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not.
_King Lear, Act iv. Sc_. 6. SHAKESPEARE.

Here and there some stern, high patriot stood,
Who could not get the place for which he sued.
_Don Juan, Canto XIII_. LORD BYRON.

Get place and wealth; if possible, with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place.
_Epistles of Horace, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

O, that estates, degrees, and offices
Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
_Merchant of Venice, Act ii. Sc. 9_. SHAKESPEARE.

POSSESSION.

When I behold what pleasure is pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how full possession falls from this,
How fairer seem the blossoms than the fruit,--
I am perplext, and often stricken mute,
Wondering which attained the higher bliss,
The wingèd insect, or the chrysalis
It thrust aside with unreluctant foot.
_Pursuit and Possession_. T.B. ALDRICH.

Bliss in possession will not last;
Remembered joys are never past;
At once the fountain, stream, and sea,
They were, they are, they yet shall be.
_The Little Cloud_. J. MONTGOMERY.

But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

I die,--but first I have possessed,
And come what may, I _have been_ blessed.
_The Giaour_. LORD BYRON.

POVERTY.

I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient.
_King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act_ i. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye
Th' unfeeling proud one looks, and passes by,
Condemned on penury's barren path to roam,
Scorned by the world, and left without a home.
_Pleasures of Hope_. T. CAMPBELL.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.
_King Lear, Act_ iv. _Sc_. 6. SHAKESPEARE.

Take physic, Pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel.
_King Lear, Act_ iii. _Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

O world! how apt the poor are to be proud!
_Twelfth Night. Act_ iii. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

This mournful truth is everywhere confessed,
Slow rises worth by poverty oppressed.
_Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

And rustic life and poverty
Grow beautiful beneath his touch.
_Burns_. T. CAMPBELL.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor.
_King Richard II., Act_ ii. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

POWER.

Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame.
A mechanized automaton.
_Queen Mab, Pt. III_. P.B. SHELLEY.

Because the good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can.
_Rob Roy's Grave_. W. WORDSWORTH.

For what can power give more than food and drink,
To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
_Medal_. J. DRYDEN.

Patience and gentleness is power.
_On a Lock of Milton's Hair_. L. HUNT.

Some novel power
Sprang up forever at a touch,
And hope could never hope too much,
In watching thee from hour to hour.
_In Memoriam, CXI_. A. TENNYSON.

A power is passing from the earth.
_On the Expected Dissolution of Mr. Fox_. W. WORDSWORTH.

He hath no power that hath not power to use.
_Festus, Sc. A Visit_. P.J. BAILEY.

PRAISE.

The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art,
Reigns more or less, and glows in every heart.
_Love of Fame, Satire I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

One good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages.
_Winter's Tale, Act_ i. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

O Popular Applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
_The Task, Bk. II_. W. COWPER.

I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.
_Macbeth, Act_ v. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

To things of sale a seller's praise belongs.
_Love's Labor's Lost, Act_ iv. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

If matters not how false or forced,
So the best things be said o' the worst.
_Hudibras, Pt. II_. S. BUTLER.

Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise.
_Paradise Regained, Bk. III_. MILTON.

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.
_Iliad, Bk. X_. HOMER. _Trans. of_. POPE.

Not in the clamor of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
_The Poets_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

PRAYER.

Prayer moves the Hand which moves the world.
_There is an Eye that Never Sleeps_. J.A. WALLACE.

In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part
Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
_Hesperides: The Heart_. R. HERRICK.

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.
_As Down in the Sunless Retreats_. T. MOORE.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
_In Memoriam, XXXII_. A. TENNYSON.

Be not afraid to pray--to pray is right.
Pray, if thou canst, with hope; but ever pray,
Though hope be weak or sick with long delay;
Pray in the darkness, if there be no light.
_Prayer_. H. COLERIDGE.

Pray to be perfect, though material leaven
Forbid the spirit so on earth to be;
But if for any wish thou darest not pray,
Then pray to God to cast that wish away.
_Prayer_. H. COLERIDGE.

And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
_Exhortation to Prayer_. W. COWPER.

Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice.
_The Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

You few that loved me

* * * * *

Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
And lift my soul to heaven.
_King Henry VIII., Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

PREACHING.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honest in the sacred cause.
_The Task, Bk. II_. W. COWPER.

God preaches, a noted clergyman,
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I'm going all along.
_A Service of Song_. E. DICKINSON.

Skilful alike with tongue and pen,
He preached to all men everywhere
The Gospel of the Golden Rule,
The new Commandment given to men,
Thinking the deed, and not the creed,
Would help us in our utmost need.
_Tales of a Wayside Inn: Prelude_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Seek to delight, that they may mend mankind.
And, while they captivate, inform the mind.
_Hope_. W. COWPER.

The gracious dew of pulpit eloquence,
And all the well-whipped cream of courtly sense.
_Satires: Epilogues, Dialogue I_. A. POPE.

The lilies say: Behold how we
Preach without words of purity.
_Consider the Lilies of the Field_. C.G. ROSSETTI.

Sow in the morn thy seed,
At eve hold not thy hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed,
Broadcast it o'er the land.
_The Field of the World_. J. MONTGOMERY.

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought--
A living sermon of the truths he taught.
_Character of a Good Parson_. J. DRYDEN.

I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.
_Love breathing Thanks and Praise_. R. BAXTER.

PRESENT, THE.

Lo! on a narrow neck of land,
'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand.
_Hymn_. C. WESLEY.

This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
The past, the future, two eternities!
_Lalla Rookh: The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan_.
T. MOORE.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate,
All but the page prescribed, their present state.
_Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have lived to-day.
_Imitation of Horace, Bk. I. Ode_ 29. J. DRYDEN.

Defer not till to-morrow to be wise,
To-morrow's sun to thee may never rise.
_Letter to Cobham_. W. CONGREVE.

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
_Davideis, Vol. I. Bk. I_. A. COWLEY.

PRIDE.

Pride like an eagle builds amid the stars.
_Night Thoughts, Night V_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea?
_As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

'T is pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;
I think the Romans call it stoicism.
_Cato, Act i. Sc. 4_. J. ADDISON.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is pride, the never failing vice of fools.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. II_. A. POPE.

Where wavering man, betrayed by venturous pride
To chase the dreary paths without a guide.
As treacherous phantoms in the mist delude,
Shuns fancied ills, or chases airy good.
_The Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault)
Proceeds from want of sense or want of thought.
_Essay on Translated Verse_. W. DILLON.

Oft has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark.
_The Chameleon_. J. MERRICK.

Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk.
_Cymbeline, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Ask for whose use the heavenly bodies shine;
Earth for whose use? Pride answers,
'T is for mine!
_Essay on Man, Pt. I_. A. POPE.

PROGRESS.

From lower to the higher next,
Not to the top, is Nature's text;
And embryo good, to reach full stature,
Absorbs the evil in its nature.
_Festina Lente_. J.R. LOWELL.

Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone,
Not God's, and not the beast's;
God is, they are,
Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
_A Death in the Desert_. R. BROWNING.

Progress is
The law of life, man is not
Man as yet.
_Paracelsus, Pt. V_. R. BROWNING.

The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man,
And the man said, "Am I your debtor?"
And the Lord--"Not yet: but make it as clean as you can,
And then I will let you a better."
_By an Evolutionist_. A. TENNYSON.

Eternal process moving on,
From state to state the spirit moves.
_In Memoriam, LXXXIII_. A. TENNYSON.

PROMISE.

Promise is most given when the least is said.
_Musoeus of Hero and Leander_. G. CHAPMAN.

He was ever precise in promise-keeping.
_Measure for Measure, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.
_Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
_King Henry VIII., Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

There buds the promise of celestial worth.
_The Last Day, Bk. III_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens
That one day bloomed and fruitful were the next.
_King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.

QUARREL.

O, shame to men! devil with devil damned
Firm concord holds; men only disagree
Of creatures rational.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

O we fell out, I know not why,
And kissed again with tears.
_The Princess_. A. TENNYSON.

What dire offence from amorous causes springs,
What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
_Rape of the Lock, Canto I_. A. POPE.

Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in,
Bear 't that the opposèd may beware of thee.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Those who in quarrels interpose,
Must often wipe a bloody nose.
_Fables: The Mastiffs_.. J. GAY.

But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
When honor's at the stake.
_Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

I'm armed with more than complete steel,
The justice of my quarrel.
_Lust's Dominion, Act iii. Sc. 4_. C. MARLOWE.

RAIN.

The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effusion, o'er the freshened world.
_The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

Drip, drip, the rain comes falling,
Rain in the woods, rain on the sea;
Even the little waves, beaten, come crawling
As if to find shelter here with me.
_Waiting in the Rain_. J.H. MORSE.

The rain-drops' showery dance and rhythmic beat,
With tinkling of innumerable feet.
_The Microcosm: Hearing_. A. COLES.

And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.
_Midnight Mass for the Dying Year_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

See where it smokes along the sounding plain,
Blown all aslant, a driving, dashing rain;
Peal upon peal, redoubling all around,
Shakes it again and faster to the ground.
_Truth_. W. COWPER.

The thirsty earth soaks up the rain,
And drinks and gapes for drink again;
The plants suck in the earth, and are
With constant drinking fresh and fair.
_Anacreontiques_. A. COWLEY.

When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.
_Twelfth Night, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

RAINBOW.

Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky!
_Idylls of the King: The Coming of Arthur_. A. TENNYSON.

Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray,
Each in the other melting.
_The Evening Rainbow_. R. SOUTHEY.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky,
When storms prepare to part;
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art.
_To the Rainbow_. T. CAMPBELL.

What skilful limner e'er would choose
To paint the rainbow's varying hues,
Unless to mortal it were given
To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?
_Marmion, Canto VI_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Bright pledge of peace and sunshine! the sure tie
Of thy Lord's hand, the object of His eye!
When I behold thee, though my light be dim,
Distinct, and low, I can in thine see Him
Who looks upon thee from His glorious throne,
And minds the covenant between all and One.
_The Rainbow_. H. VAUGHAN.

READING.

I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out
Among the giant fossils of my past,
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
At this or that box, pulling through the gap,
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first. And how I felt it beat
Under my pillow, in the morning's dark,
An hour before the sun would let me read!
_Aurora Leigh, Bk. I_. E.B. BROWNING.

Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow.
_Titus Andronicus, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

He furnished me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
_Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

There studious let me sit,
And hold high converse with the mighty dead;
Sages of ancient time, as gods revered,
As gods beneficent, who blest mankind
With arts, with arms, and humanized a world.
_The Seasons: Winter_. J. THOMSON.

POLONIUS.--What do you read, my lord?
HAMLET.--Words, words, words.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

O Reader! had you in your mind
Such stores as silent thought may bring,
O gentle Reader! you would find
A tale in everything.
_Simon Lee_. W. WORDSWORTH.

And choose an author as you choose a friend.
_Essay on Translated Verse_. EARL OF ROSCOMMON.

When the last reader reads no more.
_The Last Reader_. O.W. HOLMES.

REASONS.

All was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels; for his thoughts were low;
To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds
Timorous and slothful: yet he pleased the ear,
And with persuasive accent thus began.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as
plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason
upon compulsion. I.
_King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.
_Julius Cæsar, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Whatever sceptic could inquire for,
For every why he had a wherefore.
_Hudibras, Pt. I_. S. BUTLER.

I was promised on a time
To have reason for my rhyme;
From that time unto this season,
I received nor rhyme nor reason.
_Lines on his Promised Pension_. E. SPENSER.

REGRET.

For who, alas! has lived,
Nor in the watches of the night recalled
Words he has wished unsaid and deeds undone?
_Reflections_. S. ROGERS.

Thou wilt lament
Hereafter, when the evil shall be done
And shall admit no cure.
_Iliad, Bk. IX_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ BRYANT.

The man who seeks one thing in life, and but one,
May hope to achieve it before life be done;
But he who seeks all things, wherever he goes,
Only reaps from the hopes which around him he sows
A harvest of barren regrets.
_Lucile, Pt. 1. Canto II_. LORD LYTTON (_Owen Meredith_).

O lost days of delight, that are wasted in doubting and waiting!
O lost hours and days in which we might have been happy!
_Tales of a Wayside Inn: The Theologian's Tale_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Calmly he looked on either Life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear:
From Nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfied.
Thanked Heaven that he had lived, and that he died.
_Epitaph X_. A. POPE.

RELIGION.

God is not dumb, that he should speak no more;
If thou hast wanderings in the wilderness
And find'st not Sinai, 't is thy soul is poor.
_Bibliotres_. J.R. LOWELL.

Religion, if in heavenly truths attired,
Needs only to be seen to be admired.
_Expostulation_. W. COWPER.

In religion,
What damnèd error, but some sober brow
Will bless it and approve it with a text.
_Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

I think while zealots fast and frown,
And fight for two or seven,
That there are fifty roads to town,
And rather more to Heaven.
_Chant of Brazen Head_. W.M. PRAED.

Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.
_The Church Militant_. G. HERBERT.

A Christian is the highest type of man.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Remote from man, with God he passed the days,
Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
_The Hermit_. T. PARNELL.

Religion's all. Descending from the skies
To wretched man, the goddess in her left
Holds out this world, and, in her right, the next.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

My God, my Father, and my Friend,
Do not forsake me at my end.
_Translation of Dies Irae_. EARL OF ROSCOMMON.

REMORSE.

What exile from himself can flee?
To zones though more and more remote
Still, still pursues, where'er I be,
The blight of life--the demon Thought.
_Childe Harold, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

Now conscience wakes despair
That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
_Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

MACBETH.--Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?
DOCTOR.-- Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
_Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't,
A brother's murder.
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

How guilt once harbored in the conscious breast,
Intimidates the brave, degrades the great.
_Irene, Act iv. Sc. 8_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

High minds, of native pride and force,
Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse!
Fear for their scourge, mean villains have,
Thou art the torturer of the brave!
_Marmion, Canto III_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Amid the roses, fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest; a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
_The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

There is no future pang
Can deal that justice on the self-condemned
He deals on his own soul.
_Manfred, Act iii. Sc. 1_. LORD BYRON.

REPUTATION.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
Who steals my purse, steals trash; 't is something, nothing;
'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Fear not the anger of the wise to raise,
They best can bear reproof who merit praise.
_Essay on Criticism_. A. POPE.

The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
_King Richard II., Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
Wherein thou liest in reputation sick.
_King Richard II., Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Convey a libel in a frown,
And wink a reputation down!
_Journal of a Modern Lady_. J. SWIFT.

After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption.
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
_King Henry VIII., Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then, must you speak
Of one that loved, not wisely, but too well:
Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
Perplexed in the extreme; of one, whose hand,

Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away,
Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued eyes,
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this.
_Othello, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

O God!--Horatio, what a wounded name,
Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.
_Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

RESIGNATION.

Behold, how brightly breaks the morning,
Though bleak our lot, our hearts are warm.
_Behold how brightly breaks_. J. KENNEY.

God is much displeased
That you take with unthankfulness his doing:
In common worldly things, 't is called ungrateful,
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
_King Richard III., Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Thus ready for the way of life or death,
I wait the sharpest blow.
_Pericles, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

What's gone and what's past help
Should be past grief.
_Winter's Tale, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

But hushed be every thought that springs
From out the bitterness of things.
_Addressed to Sir G.H.B_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below!
_King Lear, Act ii. Sc 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

'T is impious in a good man to be sad.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
_To an Afflicted Protestant Lady_. W. COWPER.

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
_Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced
That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction,--
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour
Serves but to brighten all our future days.
_Barbarossa, Act v. Sc. 3_. J. BROWN.

RESOLUTION.

Be stirring as the time: be fire with fire:
Threaten the threatener and outface the brow
Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviors from the great,
Grow great by your example and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
_King John, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

My resolution 's placed, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: now from head to foot
I am marble--constant.
_Antony and Cleopatra, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

When two
Join in the same adventure, one perceives
Before the other how they ought to act;
While one alone, however prompt, resolves
More tardily and with a weaker will.
_Iliad, Bk. X_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ BRYANT.

I pull in resolution, and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
That lies like truth: "Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane."
_Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

In life's small things be resolute and great
To keep thy muscle trained: know'st thou when Fate
Thy measure takes, or when she'll say to thee,
"I find thee worthy; do this deed for me"?
_Epigram_. J.R. LOWELL.

REST.

Take thou of me, sweet pillowes, sweetest bed;
A chamber deafe of noise, and blind of light,
A rosie garland, and a weary hed.
_Astrophel and Stella_. SIR PH. SIDNEY.

And to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts,
Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.
_The Excursion, Bk. IV_. W. WORDSWORTH.

The wind breathed soft as lover's sigh,
And, oft renewed, seemed oft to die,
With breathless pause between,
O who, with speech of war and woes,
Would wish to break the soft repose
Of such enchanting scene!
_Lord of the Isles, Canto IV_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Our foster-nurse of Nature is repose,
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
_King Lear, Act iv. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights; times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times.
_King Henry VIII., Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Who pants for glory finds but short repose;
A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.
_Epistles of Horace, Ep. I. Bk. I_. J. DRYDEN.

Where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. I_. MILTON.

Absence of occupation is not rest,
A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
_Retirement_. W. COWPER.

RETRIBUTION.

The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree
I planted--they have torn me, and I bleed;
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

We but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.
So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart.
_English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.

Remember Milo's end,
Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.
_Essays on Translated Verse_. W. DILLON.

REVENGE.

Souls made of fire and children of the sun,
With whom Revenge is virtue.
_The Revenge, Act V_. DR. E. YOUNG

And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power
Which could evade, if unforgiven,
The patient search and vigil long
Of him who treasures up a wrong.
_Mazeppa_. LORD BYRON

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
_Titus Andronicus, Act ii. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE

If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
_Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
_Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc_.. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But when I think on all my wrongs,
My blood is liquid flame.
_Marmion, Canto VI_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IX_. MILTON.

ROD, THE.

I pray ye, flog them upon all occasions.
It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
_Don Juan, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

Love is a boy by poets styled;
Then spare the rod and spoil the child.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.

Whipping, that's virtue's governess,
Tutoress of arts and sciences;
That mends the gross mistakes of nature,
And puts new life into dull matter;
That lays foundation for renown,
And all the honors of the gown.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.

ROMANCE.

Parent of golden dreams, Romance!
Auspicious queen of childish joys,
Who lead'st along, in airy dance,
Thy votive train of girls and boys.
_To Romance_. LORD BYRON.

He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
And banner waves, and trumpet sounds,
And ladies ride with hawk on wrist,
And mighty warriors sweep along,
Magnified by the purple mist,
The dusk of centuries and of song.
_Tales of a Wayside Inn: Prelude_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
_A Narrow Girdle of Bough Stones_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings.
There 's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?
_Don Juan, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

ROYALTY.

When beggars die there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
_Julius Cæsar, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

What infinite heart's ease
Must kings neglect, that private men enjoy?
And what have kings that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
_King Henry V., Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king.
_King Richard II., Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.
_Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength.
_King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

RURAL LIFE.

Far from gay cities and the ways of men.
_Odyssey, Bk. XIV_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

But on and up, where Nature's heart
Beats strong amid the hills.
_Tragedy of the Lac de Gaube_. R.M. MILNES, LORD HOUGHTON.

They love the country, and none else, who seek
For their own sake its silence and its shade.
Delights which who would leave, that has a heart
Susceptible of pity or a mind
Cultured and capable of sober thought?
_The Task, Bk. III_. W. COWPER.

God made the country, and man made the town;
What wonder then, that health and virtue, gifts
That can alone make sweet the bitter draught
That life holds out to all, should most abound
And least be threatened in the fields and groves.
_The Task, Bk. I.: The Sofa_. W. COWPER.

Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town.
_Summer_. C.G. ROSSETTI.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature.
_The Task, Bk. I_. W. COWPER.

At eve the ploughman leaves the task of day
And, trudging homeward, whistles on the way:
And the big-uddered cows with patience stand,
And wait the strokings of the damsel's hand.
_Rural Sport_. J. GAY.

Rustic mirth goes round;
The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart,
Easily pleased; the long loud laugh sincere;
The kiss snatched hasty from the sidelong maid,
On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep:
The leap, the slap, the haul; and, shook to notes
Of native music, the respondent dance.
Thus jocund fleets with them the winter night.
_The Seasons: Winter_. J. THOMSON.

As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
So in the eye of Nature let him die!
_The Old Cumberland Beggar_. W. WORDSWORTH.

O for a seat in some poetic nook,
Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook.
_Politics and Poetics_. L. HUNT.

I care not, Fortune, what you me deny:
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace.
_The Castle of Indolence, Canto II_. J. THOMSON.

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
_As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

SABBATH.

The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard,
Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice
Of one who from the far-off hills proclaims
Tidings of good to Zion.
_The Sabbath Bells_. C. LAMB.

The clinkum-clank o' Sabbath bells
Noo to the hoastin' rookery swells,
Noo faintin' laigh in shady dells,
Sounds far an' near,
An' through the simmer kintry tells
Its tale o' cheer.

An' noo, to that melodious play,
A' deidly awn the quiet sway--
A' ken their solemn holiday,
Bestial an' human,
The singin' lintie on the brae,
The restin' plou'man.
_A Lowden Sabbath Morn_. R.L. STEVENSON.

Bright shadows of true rest! some shoots of bliss:
Heaven once a week:
The next world's gladness prepossest in this;
A day to seek;
Eternity in time.
_Sundays_. H. VAUGHAN.

As palmers went to hail the nichèd seat
At desert well, where they put off the shoon
And robe of travel, so I, a pilgrim as they,
Tired with my six-days' track, would turn aside
Out of the scorch and glare into the shade
Of Sunday-stillness.
_The Resting Place_. M.J. PRESTON.

But chiefly man the day of rest enjoys.
Hail, Sabbath! Thee I hail, the poor man's day.
_The Sabbath_. J. GRAHAME.

Yes, child of suffering, thou may'st well be sure,
He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!
_Urania_.. O.W. HOLMES.

SATIRE.

Prepare for rhyme--I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
_English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.

Satire should, like a polished razor keen,
Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen.
_To the Imitator of the first Satire of Horace. Bk. II_.
LADY M.W. MONTAGU.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run amuck and tilt at all I meet.
_Second Book of Horace_. A. POPE.

Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel,
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
_Satires: Prologue_. A. POPE.

SCANDAL.

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike.
_Satires: Prologue_. A. POPE.

And there's a lust in man no charm can tame
Of loudly publishing our neighbor's shame;
On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly,
While virtuous actions are but born and die.
_Satire IX_. JUVENAL. _Trans. of_ G. HARVEY.

There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools.
If true, a woful likeness; and, if lies,
"Praise undeserved is scandal in disguise."
_Imitations of Horace, Epistle I. Bk. II_. A. POPE.

A third interprets motions, looks and eyes;
At every word a reputation dies.
Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,
With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that.
_Rape of the Lock, Canto III_. A. POPE.

Cursed be the verse, how well soe'er it flow,
That tends to make one worthy man my foe.
_The Satires: Prologue_. A. POPE.

SCHOOL.

The school-boy, with his satchel in his hand,
Whistling aloud to bear his courage up.
_The Grave_. R. BLAIR.

I do present you with a man of mine,
Cunning in music and the mathematics,
To instruct her fully in those sciences.
_Taming of the Shrew, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth....
... for, to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing up.
_Taming of The Shrew, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Grave is the Master's look: his forehead wears
Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:
Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,
His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.
Supreme he sits; before the awful frown
That binds his brows the boldest eye goes down;
Not more submissive Israel heard and saw
At Sinai's foot the Giver of the Law.
_The School-Boy_. O.W. HOLMES.

Besides they always smell of bread and butter.
_Manfred_. LORD BYRON.

You'd scarce expect one of my age
To speak in public on the stage;
And if I chance to fall below
Demosthenes or Cicero,
Don't view me with a critic's eye,
But pass my imperfections by.
Large streams from little fountains flow,
Tall oaks from little acorns grow.
_Lines written for a School Declamation_. D. EVERETT.

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

SCIENCE.

While bright-eyed Science watches round.
_Ode for Music: Chorus_. T. GRAY.

There live, alas! of heaven-directed mien,
Of cultured soul, and sapient eye serene,
Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of a day,
Spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay,

* * * * *

O Star-eyed Science! hast thou wandered there,
To waft us home the message of despair?
_Pleasures of Hope_. T. CAMPBELL.

One science only will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. I_. A. POPE.

By the glare of false science betrayed,
That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.
_The Hermit_. J. BEATTIE.

I value science--none can prize it more,
It gives ten thousand motives to adore:
Be it religious, as it ought to be,
The heart it humbles, and it bows the knee.
_The Microcosm: Christian Science_. A. COLES.

SCOLD.

Unpack my heart with words,
And fall a cursing, like a very drab,
A scullion!
Fie upon 't! Foh!
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Find all his having and his holding
Reduced to eternal noise and scolding,--
The conjugal petard that tears
Down all portcullises of ears.
_Hudibras_. S. BUTLER.

Abroad too kind, at home 't is steadfast hate,
And one eternal tempest of debate.
_Love of Fame_. DR. E. YOUNG.

SCULPTURE.

As when, O lady mine,
With chiselled touch
The stone unhewn and cold
Becomes a living mould,
The more the marble wastes
The more the statue grows.
_Sonnet_. M. ANGELO. _Trans. of_ MRS. H. ROSCOE.

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
Phantoms that seem to live.
_Michael Angelo_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

And the cold marble leapt to life a god.
_The Belvedere Apollo_. H.H. MILMAN.

Or view the lord of the unerring bow,
The god of life, and poesy, and light.--
The sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow
All radiant from his triumph in the fight;
The shaft hath just been shot,--the arrow bright
With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye
And nostril beautiful disdain, and might
And majesty, flash their full lightnings by,
Developing in that one glance the Deity.

But in his delicate form--a dream of love,
Shaped by some solitary nymph, whose breast
Longed for a deathless lover from above,
And maddened in that vision--are exprest
All that ideal beauty ever blessed
The mind within its most unearthly mood,
When each conception was a heavenly guest,
A ray of immortality, and stood,
Starlike, around, until they gathered to a god!
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

SEA.

Ocean! great image of eternity,
And yet of fleeting time, of change, unrest,
Thou vast and wondrous realm of mystery,
Of thy great teachings too is man possessed.
Type of God's boundless might, the here and there
Uniting, thou dost with a righteous fear
Man's heart ennoble, awe, and purify,
As in thy mighty, multitudinous tones echoes of God roll by.
_Nature and Man_. J.W. MILES.

What are the wild waves saying,
Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
I hear but their low, lone song?
_What are the Wild Waves Saying_? J.B. CARPENTER.

The land is dearer for the sea,
The ocean for the shore.
_On the Beach_. L. LARCOM.

Distinct as the billows, yet one as the sea.
_The Ocean_. J. MONTGOMERY.

There the sea I found
Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.
_The Revolt of Islam, Canto I_. P.B. SHELLEY.

And there, where the smooth, wet pebbles be,
The waters gurgle longingly,
As if they fain would seek the shore,
To be at rest from the ceaseless roar,
To be at rest forevermore.
_The Sirens_. J.R. LOWELL.

I am as a weed,
Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
_Don Juan, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

Watching the waves with all their white crests dancing
Come, like thick-plumed squadrons, to the shore
Gallantly bounding.
_Julian_. SIR A. HUNT.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more!
And the waves behind beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider.
_Don Juan, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him.
_The Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
_Luria, Act i_. R. BROWNING.

Thus, I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel, with gentle gale.
_The Spleen_. M. GREEN.

What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore,
Ships have been drowned, where late they danced before.
_Safety on the Shore_. R. HERRICK.

Through the black night and driving rain
A ship is struggling, all in vain,
To live upon the stormy main;--
Miserere Domine!
_The Storm_. A.A. PROCTER.

But chief at sea, whose every flexile wave
Obeys the blast, the aërial tumult swells.
In the dread Ocean undulating wide,
Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives before the favoring gales;
Now flirting at their length the streamers play,
And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.
_Sonnet XIX_. R. SOUTHEY.

Thou wert before the Continents, before
The hollow heavens, which like another sea
Encircles them and thee; but whence thou wert,
And when thou wast created, is not known,
Antiquity was young when thou wast old.
_Hymn to the Sea_. R.H. STODDARD.

Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows.
Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean.
_The Homeric Hexameter_. SCHILLER. _Trans. of_ COLERIDGE.

SEASONS.

SPRING.

So forth issewed the Seasons of the yeare:
First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowres
That freshly budded and new bloomes did beare,
In which a thousand birds had built their bowres
That sweetly sung to call forth paramours;
And in his hand a javelin he did beare,
And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures)
A guilt, engraven morion he did weare:
That, as some did him love, so others did him feare.
_Faërie Queen, Bk. VII_. E. SPENSER.

The stormy March has come at last,
With winds and clouds and changing skies;
I hear the rushing of the blast
That through the snowy valley flies.
_March_. W.C. BRYANT.

March! A cloudy stream is flowing,
And a hard, steel blast is blowing;
Bitterer now than I remember
Ever to have felt or seen,
In the depths of drear December,
When the white doth hide the green.
_March, April, May_. B.W. PROCTER (_Barry Cornwall_).

A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew,
A cloud, and a rainbow's warning,
Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue--
An April day in the morning.
_April_. H.P. SPOFFORD.

O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day!
_The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

When proud-pied April, dressed all in his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
_Sonnet XCVIII_. SHAKESPEARE.

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come.
_The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

But yesterday all life in bud was hid;
But yesterday the grass was gray and sere;
To-day the whole world decks itself anew
In all the glorious beauty of the year.
_Sudden Spring in New England_. C. WELSH.

When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers.
_The Fountains_. W.C. BRYANT.

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
_Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots_. R. BURNS.

Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Teaching barren moors to smile,
Painting pictures mile on mile,
Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths
Whence a smokeless incense breathes.
_May Day_. R.W. EMERSON.

Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
And golden locks in breezy play,
Half teasing and half tender, to repeat
Her song of "May."
_May_. S.C. WOOLSEY (_Susan Coolidge_).

For May wol have no slogardie a-night.
The seson priketh every gentil herte,
And maketh him out of his slepe to sterte.
_Canterbury Tales: The Knightes Tale_. CHAUCER.

When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight.
_Love's Labor's Lost, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

SUMMER.

Then came the jolly Sommer, being dight
In a thin silken cassock, coloured greene,
That was unlynèd all, to be more light,
And on his head a garlande well beseene.
_Faërie Queene, Bk. VII_. E. SPENSER.

All green and fair the Summer lies,
Just budded from the bud of Spring,
With tender blue of wistful skies,
And winds which softly sing.
_Menace_. S.C. WOOLSEY (_Susan Coolidge_).

From brightening fields of ether fair-disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth;
He comes, attended by the sultry Hours,
And ever-fanning breezes, on his way.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

From all the misty morning air, there comes a summer sound,
A murmur as of waters from skies, and trees, and ground.
The birds they sing upon the wing, the pigeons bill and coo.
_A Midsummer Song_. R.W. GILDER.

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
_The Bee_. E. DICKINSON.

Still as night
Or summer's noontide air.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn.
_A Christmas Carol_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July.
_A Corymbus for Autumn_. F. THOMPSON.

Dead is the air, and still! the leaves of the locust and walnut
Lazily hang from the boughs, inlaying their intricate outlines
Rather on space than the sky,--on a tideless expansion of slumber.
_Home Pastorals: August_. B. TAYLOR.

AUTUMN.

Then came the Autumne, all in yellow clad,
As though he joyèd in his plenteous store,
Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad
That he had banished hunger, which to-fore
Had by the belly oft him pinchèd sore;
Upon his head a wreath, that was enrold
With ears of corne of every sort, he bore,
And in his hand a sickle he did holde,
To reape the ripened fruit the which the earth had yold.
_Faërie Queene, Bk. VII_. E. SPENSER.

And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay
Gives it a sweet and wholesome odor.
_Richard III. (Altered), Act v. Sc. 3_. C. CIBBER.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn, wreathed with nodding corn.
_Brigs of Ayr_. R. BURNS.

Yellow, mellow, ripened days.
Sheltered in a golden coating
O'er the dreamy, listless haze,
White and dainty cloudlets floating;

* * * * *

Sweet and smiling are thy ways,
Beauteous, golden Autumn days.
_Autumn Days_. W. CARLETON.

While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on.
_The Seasons: Autumn_. J. THOMSON.

From gold to gray
Our mild sweet day
Of Indian summer fades too soon;
But tenderly
Above the sea
Hangs, white and calm, the hunter's moon.
_The Eve of Election_. J.G. WHITTIER.

The brown leaves rustle down the forest glade,
Where naked branches make a fitful shade,
And the lost blooms of Autumn withered lie.
_October_. G. ARNOLD.

The dead leaves their rich mosaics
Of olive and gold and brown
Had laid on the rain-wet pavements,
Through all the embowered town.
_November_. S. LONGFELLOW.

When shrieked
The bleak November winds, and smote the woods,
And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades
That met above the merry rivulet
Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still; they seemed
Like old companions in adversity.
_A Winter Piece_. W.C. BRYANT.

Dry leaves upon the wall,
Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape,
A single frosted cluster on the grape
Still hangs--and that is all.
_November_. S.C. WOOLSEY (_Susan Coolidge_).

WINTER.

Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frize,
Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill;
Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze,
And the dull drops that from his purple bill
As from a limbeck did adown distill;
In his right hand a tipped staff he held
With which his feeble steps he stayed still,
For he was faint with cold and weak with eld,
That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to weld.
_Faërie Queene, Bk. VII_. E. SPENSER.

Chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!
_Coriolanus, Act v. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Silently as a dream the fabric rose,
No sound of hammer or of saw was there.
Ice upon ice, the well-adjusted parts
Were soon conjoined.
_The Task: Winter Morning Walk_. W. COWPER

When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away?
_Cymbeline, Act iii. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train;
Vapors, and Clouds, and Storms.
_The Seasons: Winter_. J. THOMSON.

From snow-topped hills the whirlwinds keenly blow,
Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below,
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies.
_Inebriety_ G. CRABBE.

Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweep
The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep!
Though boundless snows the withered heath deform,
And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm,
Yet shall the smile of social love repay,
With mental light, the melancholy day!
And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er,
The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore,
How bright the fagots in his little hall
Blaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall!
_The Pleasures of Hope_. T. CAMPBELL.

Look! the massy trunks
Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray,
Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven,
Is studded with its trembling water-drops,
That glimmer with an amethystine light.
_A Winter Piece_. W.C. BRYANT.

Come when the rains
Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice,
While the slant sun of February pours
Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach!
The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps.
_A Winter Piece_. W.C. BRYANT.

O Winter, ruler of the inverted year.

* * * * *

I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st,
And dreaded as thou art!
I crown thee king of intimate delights,
Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness,
And all the comforts that the lowly roof
Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours
Of long uninterrupted evening, know.
_The Task: Winter Evening_. W. COWPER.

SECRET.

Two may keep counsel, putting one away.
_Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

If you have hitherto concealed this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

I have played the fool, the gross fool, to believe
The bosom of a friend will hold a secret
Mine own could not contain.
_Unnatural Combat, Act v. Sc_. 2. P. MASSINGER.

SHAME.

O shame, where is thy blush?
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Here shame dissuades him, there his fear prevails,
And each by turns his aching heart assails.
_Metamorphoses: Actaeon, Bk. III_.
OVID. _Trans. of_ ADDISON.