The World's Best Poetry -- Volume 10

Part 5 out of 10

I thought that she bade me return.
_A Pastoral_. W. SHENSTONE.

He turned him right and round about
Upon the Irish shore,
And gae his bridle reins a shake,
With Adieu for evermore,
My dear,
With Adieu for evermore.
_It was a' for our Rightfu' King_. R. BURNS.

And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit, that we shake hands and part.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Fare thee well;
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort!
_Antony and Cleopatra, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Alas, and farewell! But there's no use in grieving,
For life is made up of loving and leaving.
_Written in an Album_. R.W. RAYMOND.


Ill husbandry braggeth
To go with the best:
Good husbandry baggeth
Up gold in his chest.
_Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, Ch. LII_. T. TUSSER.

Ye rigid Ploughmen! bear in mind
Your labor is for future hours.
Advance! spare not! nor look behind!
Plough deep and straight with all your powers!
_The Plough_. R.H. HORNE.

Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.
_Windsor Forest_. A. POPE.

When weary reapers quit the sultry field,
And, crowned with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield.
_Summer_. A. POPE.

Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn!
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn!
_The Corn-Song_. J.G. WHITTIER.

The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising:
There are forty feeding like one!
_The Cock is Crowing_. W. WORDSWORTH.


Fashion--a word which knaves and fools may use,
Their knavery and folly to excuse.
_Rosciad_. C. CHURCHILL.

The fashion wears out more apparel than the man.
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt,
A fool in fashion, but a fool that's out;
His passion for absurdity's so strong
He cannot bear a rival in the wrong.
Though wrong the mode, comply: more sense is shown
In wearing others' follies than our own.
_Night Thoughts, Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nothing is thought rare
Which is not new, and followed; yet we know
That what was worn some twenty years ago
Comes into grace again.
_The Noble Gentleman: Prologue_. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
And entertain some score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body.
_King Richard III., Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Let's do it after the high Roman fashion.
_Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 15_. SHAKESPEARE.


Success, the mark no mortal wit,
Or surest hand, can always hit:
For whatsoe'er we perpetrate,
We do but row, we're steered by Fate,
Which in success oft disinherits,
For spurious causes, noblest merits,
_Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.

Fate holds the strings, and men like children move
But as they're led: success is from above.
_Heroic Love, Act v. Sc. 1_. LORD LANSDOWNE.

Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
_A Fable: Moral_. W. COWPER.

With equal pace, impartial Fate
Knocks at the palace, as the cottage gate.
_Bk. I. Ode IV_. HORACE. _Trans. of_ PH. FRANCIS.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are overthrown;
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
_King Henry VI., Pt. IV. Act iv. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate,
_Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb,
Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn.
_The Minstrel, Bk. I_. J. BEATTIE.

No living man can send me to the shades
Before my time; no man of woman born,
Coward or brave, can shun his destiny.
_The Iliad, Bk. VI_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ BRYANT.

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to Heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull
Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull.
_All's Well that Ends Well, Act i. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

I'll make assurance doubly sure,
And take a bond of Fate.
_Macbeth, Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Men at some time are masters of their fates;
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
_Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Man is his own star, and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man
Commands all light, all influence, all fate.
Nothing to him falls early, or too late.
_Upon an Honest Man's Fortune_. J. FLETCHER.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
_Hamlet, Act v. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults.

Men still had faults, and men will have them still;
He that hath none, and lives as angels do,
Must be an angel.
_On Mr. Dryden's Religio Laici_. W. DILLON.

Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault.
_Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

And oftentimes excusing of a fault
Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse,
As patches, set upon a little breach,
Discredit more in hiding of the fault
Than did the fault before it was so patched.
_King John, Act iv. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemned ere it be done.
Mine were the very cipher of a function,
To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.
_Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Imagination frames events unknown,
In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin,
And what it fears creates.
_Belshazaar, Pt. II_. H. MORE.

Imagination's fool and error's wretch,
Man makes a death which nature never made;
Then on the point of his own fancy falls;
And feels a thousand deaths, in fearing one.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

A lamb appears a lion, and we fear
Each bash we see's a bear.
_Emblems, Bk. I.-XIII_. F. QUARLES.

Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

His fear was greater than his haste:
For fear, though fleeter than the wind,
Believes 't is always left behind.
_Hadibras, Pt. III. Canto III_. S. BUTLER.

His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
_Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Such a numerous host
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep,
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
_King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe.
_King Richard II., Act in. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Stared in her eyes, and chalked her face.
_The Princess, IV_. A. TENNYSON.

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature. Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

LADY MACBETH. Letting _I dare not_ wait upon _I would_
Like the poor cat i' the adage.
MACBETH. Prythee. peace:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
_Verses written on a Window in Scotland_. A. HILL.

Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall.
_Written on a Window Pane_. SIR W. RALEIGH.

If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all.
_Written under the Above_. QUEEN ELIZABETH.


Sweet sensibility! thou keen delight!
Unprompted moral! sudden sense of right!
_Sensibility_. H. MORE.

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden.
_Evangeline, Pt. II. Sc. 2_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

'Twere vain to tell thee all I feel,
Or say for thee I'd die.
_'Twere Vain to Tell_. J.A. WADE.

And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift,
Is quick and transient,--comes, and lo! is gone,
While Northern thought is slow and durable.
_Luria, Act v_. R. BROWNING.

Great thoughts, great feelings came to them,
Like instincts, unawares.


True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun.
_Song_. B. BOOTH.

But faithfulness can feed on suffering,
And knows no disappointment.
_Spanish Gypsy, Bk. III_. GEORGE ELIOT.

To God, thy countrie, and thy friend be true.
_Rules and Lessons_. H. VAUGHAN.

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honor clear;
Who broke no promise, served no private end,
Who gained no title, and who lost no friend.
_Epistle to Mr. Addison_. A. POPE.


O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?
_Sonnets: The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit_. L. HUNT.

Our plenteous streams a various race supply.
The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye,
The silver eel, in shining volumes rolled,
The yellow carp, in scales bedropped with gold,
Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains,
And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
_Windsor Forest_. A. POPE.


No adulation; 'tis the death of virtue;
Who flatters, is of all mankind the lowest
Save he who courts the flattery.
_Daniel_. H. MORE.

O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
_Timon of Athens, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

They do abuse the king that flatter him:
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin.
_Pericles, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
But poisoned flattery?
_Henry V., Act iv. Sc 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

But flattery never seems absurd;
The flattered always take your word:
Impossibilities seem just;
They take the strongest praise on trust.
Hyperboles, though ne'er so great,
Will still come short of self-conceit.
_The Painter who pleased Nobody and Everybody_. J. GAY.

'Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery's the food of fools;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
_Cadenus and Vanessa_. J. SWIFT.

He loves to hear
That unicorns may be betrayed with trees,
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
He says he does, being then most flattered.
_Julius Caesar, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Was flattery lost on Poet's ear:
A simple race! they waste their toil
For the vain tribute of a smile.
_Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Why should the poor be flattered?
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning.
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for 's power to thunder.
_Coriolanus, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.


No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd,
No arborett with painted blossoms drest
And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd
To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
_Faerie Queene, Bk. II. Canto VI_. E. SPENSER.

"Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:"
And since, methinks. I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
_King Richard III., Act ii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old
When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight,
And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.
_Field Flowers_. T. CAMPBELL.

Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
_Scene on the Banks of the Hudson_. W.C. BRYANT.

Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere;
Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough;
Sweet is the eglantine, but sticketh here;
Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough;
Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough;
Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill;
Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough;
And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.
_Amoretti, Sonnet XXVI_. E. SPENSER.

And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
_Lines written in Early Spring_. W. WORDSWORTH.


Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold,
Through the brown mould
Although the March breezes blew keen on her face,
Although the white snow lay in many a place.
_Daffy-Down-Dilly_. A.B. WARNER.

Darlings of the forest!
Blossoming alone
When Earth's grief is sorest
For her jewels gone--
Ere the last snowdrift melts, your tender buds have blown.
_Trailing Arbutus_. R.T. COOKE.

Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose,
A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring!
The stooping boughs above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the elm-tree for our king!
_Wishing: A Child's Song_. W. ALLINGHAM.

Mild offspring of a dark and sullen sire!
Whose modest form, so delicately fine,
Was nursed in whirling storms,
And cradled in the winds.
Thee when young spring first questioned winter's sway,
And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight,
Thee on his bank he threw
To mark his victory.
_To an Early Primrose_. H.K. WHITE.

O Proserpina!
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall
From Dis's wagon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength.
_The Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.
_My Nannie's Awa'_. R. BURNS.

A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him.
And it was nothing more.
_Peter Bell_. W. WORDSWORTH.

The loveliest flowers the closest cling to earth,
And they first feel the sun: so violets blue;
So the soft star-like primrose--drenched in dew--
The happiest of Spring's happy, fragrant birth.
_Spring Showers_. J. KEBLE.

Primrose-eyes each morning ope
In their cool, deep beds of grass;
Violets make the air that pass
Tell-tales of their fragrant slope.
_Home and Travel: Ariel in the Cloven Pine_. B. TAYLOR.

A spring upon whose brink the anemones
And hooded violets and shrinking ferns
And tremulous woodland things crowd unafraid,
Sure of the refreshing that they always find.
_Unvisited_. M.J. PRESTON.

The modest, lowly violet,
In leaves of tender green is set;
So rich she cannot hide from view,
But covers all the bank with blue.
_Spring Scatters Far and Wide_. D.R. GOODALE.

Oh! faint delicious spring-time violet,
Thine odor like a key,
Turns noiselessly in memory's wards to let
A thought of sorrow free.
_The Violet_. W.W. STORY.

In kindly showers and sunshine bud
The branches of the dull gray wood;
Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks
The blue eye of the violet looks.
_Mogg Megone, Pt. III_. J.G. WHITTIER.

Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear,
The pink waxen blossoms are waking, I hear;
We'll gather an armful of fragrant wild cheer.
Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear,
Come for arbutus, my dear.
_Come for Arbutus_. S.L. OBERHOLTZER.

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star when only one
Is shining in the sky.

Of all the months that fill the year,
Give April's month to me,
For earth and sky are then so filled
With sweet variety.

The apple blossoms' shower of pearl,
Though blent with rosier hue,
As beautiful as woman's blush,
As evanescent too.
_Apple Blossoms_. L.E. LANDON.

And buttercups are coming,
And scarlet columbine,
And in the sunny meadows
The dandelions shine.
_Spring_. C. THAXTER.


Ah! Bring childhood's flower!
The half-blown daisy bring.
_Flowers for the Heart_. J. ELLIOTT.

There is a flower, a little flower
With silver crest and golden eye,
That welcomes every changing hour,
And weathers every sky.
_A Field Flower_. J. MONTGOMERY.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted.
_To the Daisy_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower
Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour
Have passed away; less happy than the one
That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove
The tender charm of poetry and love.
_Poems composed in the Summer of_1833. W. WORDSWORTH.

With little here to do or see
Of things that in the great world be,
Sweet daisy! oft I talk to thee.
For thou art worthy,
Thou unassuming commonplace
Of nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace
Which love makes for thee!
_To the Daisy_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight;
With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white,
And taper fingers catching at all things,
To bind them all about with tiny rings.
_I Stood Tiptoe Upon a Little Hill_. J. KEATS.

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower.
_Home Thoughts from Abroad_. R. BROWNING.

The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,
Held up their chalices of gold
To catch the sunshine and the dew.
_Centennial Poem_. J.C.R. DORR.

We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses,
Dewy as the morning and colored like the dawn;
Little tents of odor, where the bee reposes,
Swooning in sweetness of the bed he dreams upon.
_The New Pastoral, Bk. VII_. T.B. READ.

The amorous odors of the moveless air,--
Jasmine and tuberose and gillyflower,
Carnation, heliotrope, and purpling shower
Of Persian roses.
_The Picture of St. John, Bk. II_. B. TAYLOR.

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
_King Henry VI., Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Here eglantine embalmed the air,
Hawthorne and hazel mingled there;
The primrose pale, and violet flower,
Found in each cliff a narrow bower;
Foxglove and nightshade, side by side,
Emblems of punishment and pride,
Grouped their dark hues with every stain
The weather-beaten crags retain.
_The Lady of the Lake, Canto I_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Wild-rose, Sweetbriar, Eglantine,
All these pretty names are mine,
And scent in every leaf is mine,
And a leaf for all is mine,
And the scent--Oh, that's divine!
Happy-sweet and pungent fine,
Pure as dew, and picked as wine.
_Songs and Chorus of the Flowers_. L. HUNT.

Roses red and violets blew
And all the sweetest flowres that in the forrest grew.
_Faerie Queene, Bk. III. Canto VI_. E. SPENSER.

Oh! roses and lilies are fair to see;
But the wild bluebell is the flower for me.
_The Bluebell_. L.A. MEREDITH.

And the stately lilies stand
Fair in the silvery light,
Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer;
Their pure breath sanctifies the air,
As its fragrance fills the night.
_A Red Rose_. J.C.R. DORR.

And the Naiad-like lily of the vale,
Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale,
That the light of its tremulous bells is seen,
Through their pavilions of tender green.
_The Sensitive Plant_. P.B. SHELLEY.

A pure, cool lily, bending
Near the rose all flushed and warm.
_Guonare_. E.L. SPROAT.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you,
love, remember:--and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
_Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Of all the bonny buds that blow
In bright or cloudy weather,
Of all the flowers that come and go
The whole twelve moons together,
The little purple pansy brings
Thoughts of the sweetest, saddest things.
_Heart's Ease_. M.E. BRADLEY.

I send thee pansies while the year is young,
Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night:
Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;

* * * * *

Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought,
And for the pansies send me back a thought.
_Pansies_. S. DOWDNEY.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1_.. SHAKESPEARE.

Or o'er the sculptures, quaint and rude,
That grace my gloomy solitude,
I teach in winding wreaths to stray
Fantastic ivy's gadding spray.
_Retirement_. T. WARTON.


The purple asters bloom in crowds
In every shady nook,
And ladies' eardrops deck the banks
Of many a babbling brook.
_Autumn_. E.G. EASTMAN.

Graceful, tossing plume of glowing gold,
Waving lonely on the rocky ledge;
Leaning seaward, lovely to behold,
Clinging to the high cliff's ragged edge.
_Seaside Goldenrod_. C. THAXTER.

The aster greets us as we pass
With her faint smile.
_A Day of Indian Summer_. S.H.P. WHITMAN.

Along the river's summer walk,
The withered tufts of asters nod;
And trembles on its arid stalk
The hoar plume of the golden-rod.
And on a ground of sombre fir,
And azure-studded juniper,
The silver birch its buds of purple shows,
And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose!
_Last Walk in Autumn_. J.G. WHITTIER.


The right to be a cussed fool
Is safe from all devices human,
It's common (ez a gin'l rule)
To every critter born of woman.
_The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. 7_. J.R. LOWELL.

No creature smarts so little as a fool.
_Prologue to Satires_. A. POPE.

The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words; and I do know
A many fools, that stand in better place,
Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter.
_Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

A limbo large and broad, since called
The Paradise of fools, to few unknown.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. III_. MILTON.

Who are a little wise the best fools be.
_The Triple Fool_. J. DONNE.

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. III_. A. POPE.

In idle wishes fools supinely stay;
Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.
_The Birth of Flattery_. G. CRABBE.

This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
_Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Some positive, persisting fools we know,
Who, if once wrong, will need be always so;
But you with pleasure own your errors past,
And make each day a critique on the last.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. III_. A. POPE.


Good to forgive:
Best to forget.
_La Saisiaz: Prologue_. R. BROWNING.

We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.
_A Boy's Poem_. A. SMITH.

Go, forget me--why should sorrow
O'er that brow a shadow fling?
Go, forget me--and to-morrow
Brightly smile and sweetly sing.
Smile--though I shall not be near thee;
Sing--though I shall never hear thee.
_Song: Go, Forget Me_! C. WOLFE.

Forgotten? No, we never do forget:
We let the years go; wash them clean with tears.
Leave them to bleach out in the open day
Or lock them careful by, like dead friends' clothes,
Till we shall dare unfold them without pain,--
But we forget not, never can forget.
_A Flower of a Day_. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.


Good nature and good sense must ever join;
To err is human, to forgive divine.
_Essay on Criticism, Pt. I_. A. POPE.

Forgiveness to the injured does belong;
But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.
_Conquest of Granada, Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 2_. J. DRYDEN.

Thou whom avenging powers obey,
Cancel my debt (too great to pay)
Before the sad accounting day.
_On the Day of Judgment_. W. DILLON.

Some write their wrongs in marble: he, more just,
Stooped down serene and wrote them in the dust,
Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,
Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind.
There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie,
And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.
_Boulter's Monuments_. S. MADDEN.

The more we know, the better we forgive;
Who'er feels deeply, feels for all who live.


Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many,
But yet she never gave enough to any.
_Epigrams_. SIR J. HARRINGTON.

Are there not, dear Michal,
Two points in the adventure of the diver,
One--when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge?
One--when, a prince, he rises with his pearl?
Festus, I plunge.
_Paracelsus_. R. BROWNING.

When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
_King John, Act iii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Fortune in men has some small diff'rence made,
One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade:
The cobbler aproned, and the parson gowned,
The friar hooded, and the monarch crowned.
_Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.

Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind,
Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind.
_Second Book of Horace, Satire II_. A. POPE.

Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach, and no food--
Such are the poor in health: or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach--such are the rich,
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
_K. Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Under heaven's high cope
Fortune is god--all you endure and do
Depends on circumstance as much as you.
_Epigrams. From the Greek_. P.B. SHELLEY.

There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
_Julius Caesar, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear;
As seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are near.
_White Devil, Act v. Sc_. 6. J. WEBSTER.

Oh, how portentous is prosperity!
How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
_Night Thoughts, Night V_. DR. E. YOUNG.

I have set my life up on a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.
_King Richard III., Act v. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Blessed are those
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger,
To sound what stop she please.
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out.
_King Henry V., Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


Who cometh over the hills,
Her garment with morning sweet,
The dance of a thousand rills
Making music before her feet?
Her presence freshens the air,
Sunshine steals light from her face.
The leaden footstep of Care
Leaps to the tune of her pace,
Fairness of all that is fair,
Grace at the heart of all grace!
Sweetener of hut and of hall,
Bringer of life put of naught,
Freedom, O, fairest of all
The daughters of Time and Thought!
_Ode to Freedom: Centennial Anniversary of the Battle of
Concord, April_ 19, 1875. J.R. LOWELL.

Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.

* * * * *

Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years
Is in them. May perpetual youth
Keep dry their light from tears.
_Of old sat Freedom on the heights_. A. TENNYSON.

No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show,
That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.

* * * * *

Religion, virtue, truth, whate'er we call
A blessing--Freedom is the pledge of all.
_Table Talk_. W. COWPER.

A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.
_Cato, Act ii. Sc_. 1. J. ADDISON.

The love of liberty with life is given,
And life itself the inferior gift of Heaven.
_Polamon and Arcite, Bk. II_. J. DRYDEN.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower
Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume;
And we are weeds without it.
_The Task, Bk. V_. W. COWPER.

I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please.
_As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,
And still revolt when truth would set them free.
License they mean, when they cry Liberty;
For who loves that must first be wise and good.
_On the Detraction which followed upon my writing
Certain Treatises, II_. MILTON.

The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed;
Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod,
Than be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to God.
_On the Capture of Certain Fugitive Slaves near Washington_. J.R.

The sword may pierce the beaver,
Stone walls in time may sever;
'T is mind alone,
Worth steel and stone,
That keeps men free forever.
_O, the sight entrancing_. T. MOORE.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,
Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place
A limit to the giant's unchained strength,
Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?
_The Ages_. W.C. BRYANT.

Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying,
Streams like the thunder-storm _against_ the wind.
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

Freedom needs all her poets; it is they
Who give her aspirations wings,
And to the wiser law of music sway
Her wild imaginings.
_To the Memory of Hood_. J.R. LOWELL.

Free soil, free men, free speech, free press,
Fremont and victory!
_Chorus: Republican Campaign Song_, 1856.


A ruddy drop of manly blood
The surging sea outweighs;
The world uncertain comes and goes,
The lover rooted stays.
_Epigraph to friendship_. R.W. EMERSON.

Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul!
Sweet'ner of life! and solder of society!
_The Grave_. R. BLAIR.

Friendship is the cement of two minds,
As of one man the soul and body is;
Of which one cannot sever but the other
Suffers a needful separation.
_Revenge_. G. CHAPMAN.

A friendship that like love is warm,
A love like friendship steady.
_How Shall I Woo_? T. MOORE.

Friendship's the image of
Eternity, in which there's nothing
Movable, nothing mischievous.
_Endymion_. J. LILLY.

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O the Joys, that came down shower-like,
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old!
_Youth and Age_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

'T is sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.
_Burial of the Dead_. J. KEBLE.

I praise the Frenchman,[A] his remark was shrewd,
How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude!
But grant me still a friend in my retreat,
Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet.
_Retirement_. W. COWPER.

[Footnote A: La Bruyere, says _Bartlett_.]

Friendship's an abstract of love's noble flame,
'Tis love refined, and purged from all its dross,
'Tis next to angel's love, if not the same.
_Friendship: A Poem_. CATH. PHILLIPS.

Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene;
Resumes them, to prepare us for the next.
_Night Thoughts_. DR. E. YOUNG.

A day for toil, an hour for sport,
But for a friend is life too short.
_Considerations by the Way_. R.W. EMERSON.

But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend;
Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm.
Some I remember, and will ne'er forget.
_Course of Time, Bk, V_. R. POLLOK.

A generous friendship no cold medium knows,
Burns with one love, with one resentment glows;
One should our interests and our passions be,
My friend must hate the man that injures me.
_Iliad, Bk. IX_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

Nor hope to find
A friend, but what has found a friend in thee.
_Night Thoughts. Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Friendship, peculiar boon of Heaven,
The noble mind's delight and pride,
To men and angels only given,
To all the lower world denied.
_Friendship: An Ode_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar:
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Turn him, and see his threads: look if he be
Friend to himself, that would be friend to thee:
For that is first required, a man be his own;
But he that's too much that is friend to none.
_Underwood_. B. JONSON.

Lay this into your breast:
Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
_Duchess of Malfy_. J. WEBSTER.

Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted;
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning
Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
_Evangeline_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

True happiness
Consists not in the multitude of friends,
But in the worth and choice.
_Cynthia's Revels_. B. JONSON.

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Friendship above all ties does bind the heart;
And faith in friendship is the noblest part.
_King Henry V_. EARL OF ORRERY.

Be kind to my remains; and O, defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend!
_Epistle to Congreve_. J. DRYDEN.

O summer friendship,
Whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us in
Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off
In the autumn of adversity.
_The Maid of Honor_. P. MASSINGER.

Such is the use and noble end of friendship,
To bear a part in every storm of fate.
_Generous Conqueror_. B. HIGGONS.

Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.

* * * * *

'T is thus in friendships: who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.
_Fables: The Hare and many Friends_. J. GAY.

Like summer friends,
Flies of estate and sunneshine.
_The Answer_. G. HERBERT.

What the declined is
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.
_Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

The man that hails you Tom or Jack,
And proves, by thumping on your back,
His sense of your great merit,
Is such a friend, that one had need
Be very much his friend indeed
To pardon, or to bear it.
_On Friendship_. W. COWPER.

Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet,--perhaps may turn his blow;
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh! save me from the _Candid Friend_!
_New Morality_. G. CANNING.

Friendship is constant in all other things,
Save in the office and affairs of love.
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

If I speak to thee in Friendship's name,
Thou think'st I speak too coldly;
If I mention Love's devoted flame,
Thou say'st I speak too boldly.
_How Shall I Woo_? T. MOORE.

Of all our good, of all our bad,
This one thing only is of worth,
We held the league of heart to heart
The only purpose of the earth.
_More Songs from Vagabondia: Envoy_. R. HOVEY.

It's an owercome sooth for age an' youth,
And it brooks wi' nae denial,
That the dearest friends are the auldest friends
And the young are just on trial.
_Poems: In Scots_. R.L. STEVENSON.

For friendship, of itself a holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
_The Hind and the Panther_. J. DRYDEN.

O Friendship, flavor of flowers! O lively sprite of life!
O sacred bond of blissful peace, the stalwart staunch of strife.
_Of Friendship_. N. GRIMOALD.


I feel my sinews slacken with the fright,
And a cold sweat thrills down o'er all my limbs,
As if I were dissolving into water.
_The Tempest_. J. DRYDEN.

But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle
From her propriety.
_Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.


Often do the spirits
Of great events stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.
_The Death of Wallenstein_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

When I consider life, 't is all a cheat.
Yet, fooled with hope, men favor the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:
To-morrow's falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and, while it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again.
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain.
_Aureng-Zebe; or, The Great Mogul, Act iv. Sc. 1_. J. DRYDEN.

As though there were a tie,
And obligation to posterity.
We get them, bear them breed and nurse.
What has posterity done for us,
That we, lest they their rights should lose,
Should trust our necks to gripe of noose?
_McFingal, Canto II_. J. TRUMBULL.

The best of prophets of the Future is the Past.
_Letter, Jan. 28, 1821_. LORD BYRON.


He is gentil that doth gentil dedis.
_Canterbury Tales: The Wyf of Bathes Tale_. CHAUCER.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne;
For a man by nothing is so well bewrayed
As by his manners.
_Faerie Queene, Bk. VI. Canto IV_. E. SPENSER.

Tho' modest, on his unembarrassed brow
Nature had written--"Gentleman."
_Don Juan, Canto IX_. LORD BYRON.

I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman.
_Merchant of Venice, Act iii, Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

"I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art;
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon.
_Twelfth Night, Act i. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Nothing to blush for and nothing to hide,
Trust in his character felt far and wide;
Be he a noble, or be he in trade,
This is the gentleman Nature has made.
_What is a Gentleman_? N.L. O'DONOGHUE.

And thus he bore without abuse
The grand old name of gentleman,
Defamed by every charlatan,
And soiled with all ignoble use.
_In Memoriam, CX_. A. TENNYSON.

His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.
_Absalom and Achitophel_. J. DRYDEN.


What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade
Invites my steps and points to yonder glade?
_To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady_. A. POPE.

What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew,
Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew?
_Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet_. B. JONSON.

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.
_King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

And then it started, like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

MACBETH. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake
Thy gory locks at me.

* * * * *

LADY MACBETH. O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear;
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan.
MACBETH. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how
say you?

* * * * *

The times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools.

* * * * *

Avaunt! and quit my sight. Let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes,
Which thou dost glare with!

* * * * *

Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!
_Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.


Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.
_Henry VI., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright,
But looked to near have neither heat nor light.
_The White Devil, Act v. Sc. 1_. J. WEBSTER.

We rise in glory, as we sink in pride:
Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
_Night Thoughts, Night VIII_. DR. E. YOUNG.

The glory dies not, and the grief is past.
_On the Death of Sir Walter Scott_. SIR S. BRYDGES.


What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say,
That, in powerful language, felt, not heard,
Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their breast
These arts of love diffuses? What, but God?
Inspiring God! who, boundless Spirit all,
And unremitting Energy, pervades.
Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole.
_The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

The Somewhat which we name but cannot know,
Ev'n as we name a star and only see
Its quenchless flashings forth, which ever show
And ever hide him, and which are not he.
_Wordsworth's Grave, I_. W. WATSON.

A Deity believed, is joy begun;
A Deity adored, is joy advanced;
A Deity beloved, is joy matured.
Each branch of piety delight inspires.
_Night Thoughts, Night VIII_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Thou, my all!
My theme! my inspiration! and my crown!
My strength in age! my rise in low estate!
My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth!--my world!
My light in darkness! and my life in death!
My boast through time! bliss through eternity!
Eternity, too short to speak thy praise!
Or fathom thy profound of love to man!
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.
Happy the man who sees a God employed
In all the good and ill that checker life.
_The Task, Bk. II_. W. COWPER.

O thou, whose certain eye foresees
The fixed event of fate's remote decrees.
_Odyssey, Bk. IV_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend,--
Path, motive, guide, original, and end.
_The Rambler, No. 7_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Whatever is, is in its causes just.
_Oedipus, Act. iii. Sc. 1_. J. DRYDEN.

He that doth the ravens feed
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age!
_As You Like It, Act. ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perished, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
_Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Yet I shall temper so
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfied, and Thee appease.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. X_. MILTON.

God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love.
_Of Immortality_. M.F. TUPPER.

Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place,
(Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism,
Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon,
Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them close,
And, hooting at the glorious Sun in Heaven,
Cries out, "Where is it?"
_Fears in Solitude_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

God sendeth and giveth, both mouth and the meat.
_Points of Good Husbandry_. T. TUSSER.

'T is Providence alone secures
In every change both mine and yours.
_A Fable_. W. COWPER.

Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor;
And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.
_The Task: Winter Morning Walk_. W. COWPER.

That God, which ever lives and loves,
One God, one law, one element,
And one far-off divine event,
To which the whole creation moves.
_In Memoriam; Conclusion_. A. TENNYSON.


Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.
_The Iliad, Bk. I_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ BRYANT.

Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
_The Iliad, Bk. I_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

High in the home of the summers, the seats of the happy immortals,
Shrouded in knee-deep blaze, unapproachable; there ever youthful
Hebe, Harmonie, and the daughter of Jove, Aphrodite
Whirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours and
_Andromeda_. CH. KINGSLEY.

Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh
Half buried in the eagle's down.
Sole as a flying star, shot thro' the sky,
Above the pillared town.
_Palace of Art_. A. TENNYSON.

As sweet and musical
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
_Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Who knows not Circe,
The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape,
And downward fell into a grovelling swine?
_Comus_. MILTON.

Cupid is a knavish lad,
Thus to make poor females mad.
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid:
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans.
_Love's Labor's Lost, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

No wonder Cupid is a murderous boy:
A fiery archer making pain his joy.
His dam, while fond of Mars, is Vulcan's wife,
And thus 'twixt fire and sword divides her life.
_Greek Anthology_. MELEAGER.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us.
_King Lear, Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful;
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
_Titus Andronicus, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.


What good I see humbly I seek to do,
And live obedient to the law, in trust
That what will come, and must come, shall come well.
_The Light of Asia_. SIR E. ARNOLD.

There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as before;
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound.
_Abt Vogler, IX_. R. BROWNING.

Now, at a certain time, in pleasant mood,
He tried the luxury of doing good.
_Tales of the Hall, Bk. III_. G. CRABBE.

'T is well said again;
And 't is a kind of good deed to say well:
And yet words are no deeds.
_King Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Look round the habitable world, how few
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue!
_Juvenal, Satire X_. J. DRYDEN.

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!
_Paradise Lost, Bk. V_. MILTON.


The still small voice of gratitude.
_For Music_. T. GRAY.

A grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharged.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
With coldness still returning;
Alas! the gratitude of men
Hath oftener left me mourning.
_Simon Lee_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.


There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found,
They softly lie and sweetly sleep
Low in the ground.
_The Grave_. J. MONTGOMERY.

Ah, the grave's a quiet bed:
She shall sleep a pleasant sleep,
And the tears that you may shed
Will not wake her--therefore weep!
_The Last Scene_. W. WINTER.

O, snatched away in beauty's bloom,
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year,
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:
_O, Snatched Away_! LORD BYRON.

Yet shall thy grave with rising flow'rs be dressed.
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast;
There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,
There the first roses of the year shall blow.
_Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady_. A. POPE.

And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
_In Memoriam, XVIII_. A. TENNYSON.

Sweets to the sweet: farewell,
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife:
I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not t' have strewed thy grave.
_Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

How loved, how honored once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot;
A heap of dust alone remains of thee;
'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
_Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady_. A. POPE.

Lay her i' the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring!
_Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Brave Percy, fare thee well!
Ill-weaned ambition, how much art thou shrunk:
When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough.
_King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act v. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Oft let me range the gloomy aisles alone,
Sad luxury! to vulgar minds unknown,
Along the walls where speaking marbles show
What worthies form the hallowed mould below;
Proud names, who once the reins of empire held,
In arms who triumphed, or in arts excelled;
Chiefs, graced with scars, and prodigal of blood;
Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood;
Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And saints, who taught and led the way to heaven.
_On the Death of Mr. Addison_. T. TICKELL.

The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the slave
Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud
Resigns his powers; the miser drops his hoard:
Where human folly sleeps.
_Ruins of Rome_. J. DYER.

Then to the grave I turned me to see what therein lay;
'T was the garment of the Christian, worn out and thrown away.
_Death and the Christian_. F.A. KRUMMACHER.


That man is great, and he alone,
Who serves a greatness not his own,
For neither praise nor pelf:
Content to know and be unknown:
Whole in himself.
_A Great Man_. LORD LYTTON (_Owen Meredith_).

He fought a thousand glorious wars,
And more than half the world was his,
And somewhere, now, in yonder stars,
Can tell, mayhap, what greatness is.
_The Chronicle of the Drum_. W.M. THACKERAY.

Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven;
No pyramids set off his memories,
But the eternal substance of his greatness,--
To which I leave him.
_The False One, Act ii. Sc. 1_. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Greatness on goodness loves to slide, not stand,
And leaves, for fortune's ice, vertue's firm land.
_Turkish History. Under a portrait of Mustapha I_. R. KNOLLES.

Such souls,
Whose sudden visitations daze the world,
Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind
A voice that in the distance far away
Wakens the slumbering ages.
_Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 7_. SIR H. TAYLOR.


Every one can master grief, but he that has it.
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

The grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
_Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

No words suffice the secret soul to show,
For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
_The Corsair, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy when misery is at hand.
_Inferno, Canto V_. DANTE.

I am not mad;--I would to heaven I were!
For then, 'tis like I should forget myself;
O, if I could, what grief I should forget!
_King John, Act iii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul,
Follow thy friend beloved!
But in the lonely hour,
But in the evening walk,
Think that he accompanies thy solitude;
Think that he holds with thee
Mysterious intercourse:
And though remembrance wake a tear,
There will be joy in grief.
_The Dead Friend_. R. SOUTHEY.

Habit with him was all the test of truth;
"It must be right: I've done it from my youth."
_The Borough, Letter III_. G. CRABBE.

How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled town.
_Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act v. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Hackneyed in business, wearied at that oar,
Which thousands, once fast chained to, quit no more.
_Retirement_. W. COWPER.

Small habits, well pursued betimes,
May reach the dignity of crimes.
_Florio, Pt. I_. HANNAH MORE.

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
_Metamorphoses, Bk. XV_. OVID. _Trans. of_ DRYDEN.


Those curious locks so aptly twined,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind.
_To A.L. Persuasions to Love_. T. CAREW.

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And when she winds them round a young man's neck,
She will not ever set him free again.
_Faust: Sc. Walpurgis Night_. GOETHE. _Trans. of_ SHELLEY.

Her glossy hair was clustered o'er a brow
Bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth.
_Don Juan, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette,
It was finer than silk of the floss, my pet;
'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist,
'Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed--
'Twas the loveliest hair in the world, my pet.
_Janette's Hair_. C.G. HALPINE (_Miles O'Reilly_).

As she fled fast through sun and shade,
The happy winds upon her played,
Blowing the ringlets from the braid.
_Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere_. A. TENNYSON.

Come let me pluck that silver hair
Which 'mid thy clustering curls I see;
The withering type of time or care
Has nothing, sure, to do with thee.
_The Grey Hair_. A.A. WATTS.


Without the bed her other fair hand was,
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white
Showed like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.

The hand of a woman is often, in youth,
Somewhat rough, somewhat red, somewhat graceless, in truth;
Does its beauty refine, as its pulses grow calm,
Or as sorrow has crossed the life line in the palm?
_Lucile, Pt. I. Canto III_. (_Owen Meredith_). LORD LYTTON.

They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand.
_Romeo and Juliet. Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

As if the world and they were hand and glove.
_Table Talk_. W. COWPER.

With an angry wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you.
_Julius Caesar, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Then join in hand, brave Americans all;
By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall.
_The Liberty Song_ (1768). J. DICKINSON.


Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere:
'Tis nowhere to be found, or ev'ry where;
'Tis never to be bought, but always free.
_Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.

We're charmed with distant views of happiness,
But near approaches make the prospect less.
_Against Enjoyment_. T. YALDEN.

For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart:
And makes his pulses fly,
To catch the thrill of a happy voice,
And the light of a pleasant eye.
_Saturday Afternoon_. N.P. WILLIS.

True happiness ne'er entered at an eye;
True happiness resides in things unseen.
_Night Thoughts, Night VIII_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Some place the bliss in action, some in ease,
Those call it pleasure, and contentment these.
_Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.

The spider's most attenuated thread
Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie
On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
_Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

The way to bliss lies not on beds of down,
And he that had no cross deserves no crown.
_Esther_. F. QUARLES.


Who love too much hate in the like extreme.
_The Odyssey_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

These two hated with a hate
Found only on the stage.
_Don Juan, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
_The Mourning Bride, Act_ iii. _Sc_. 8. W. CONGREVE.


Oh, the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,--
A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing.
_The Captive Greek Girl_. J. PARDOE.

His heart was one of those which most enamor us,
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.
_Beppo_. LORD BYRON.

There is an evening twilight of the heart,
When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
_Twilight_. F-G. HALLECK.

Worse than a bloody hand is a bloody heart.
_The Cenci, Act_ v. _Sc. 2_. P.B. SHELLEY.

Who, for the poor renown of being smart,
Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
_Love of Fame, Satire II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nor peace nor ease the heart can know,
Which, like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe,
But, turning, trembles too.
_A Prayer for Indifference_. MRS. F.M. GREVILLE.

Here the heart
May give a useful lesson to the head,
And Learning wiser grow without his books.
_The Task: Winter Walk at Noon_. W. COWPER.

My heart
Is true as steel.
_A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.


A heart bestowed on heaven alone.
_The Corsair_. LORD BYRON.

If God hath made this world so fair,
Where sin and death abound,
How beautiful, beyond compare,
Will Paradise be found!
_The Earth Full of God's Goodness_. J. MONTGOMERY.

This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,--
There's nothing true but Heaven!
_Sacred Songs: The world is all a fleeting show_. T. MOORE.

Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love.
_The Issues of Life and Death_. J. MONTGOMERY.

No, no, I'm sure,
My restless spirit never could endure
To brood so long upon one luxury,
Unless it did, though fearfully, espy
A hope beyond the shadow of a dream
_Endymion, Bk. I_. J. KEATS.


'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.
_Burial of the Dead_. J. KEBLE.

Nor can his blessed soul look down from heaven,
Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest.
_The Spanish Friar, Act v. Sc. 2_. J. DRYDEN.

Just are the ways of Heaven; from Heaven proceed
The woes of man; Heaven doomed the Greeks to bleed.
_Odyssey, Bk. VIII_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

In man's most dark extremity
Oft succor dawns from Heaven.
_The Lord of the Isles, Canto I_. SIR W. SCOTT.

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

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish--
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
_Sacred Songs: Come, ye Disconsolate_. T. MOORE.


All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
_Inferno, Canto III_. DANTE.

Which way shall I fly,
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Long is the way
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Nor from hell
One step no more than from himself can fly
By change of place.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

When all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
_Faustus_. C. MARLOWE.


Heav'n forming each on other to depend,
A master, or a servant, or a friend,
Bids each on other for assistance call,
Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
_Essay on Man, Epistle II_. A. POPE.

Small service is true service while it lasts:
Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one:
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun.
_In a Child's Album_. W. WORDSWORTH.

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

Help thyself, and God will help thee.
_Jaculata Prudentum_. G. HERBERT.


The hero is the world-man, in whose heart
One passion stands for all, the most indulged.
_Festus: Proem_. P.J. BAILEY.


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