The World's Best Poetry -- Volume 10

Part 9 out of 10

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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


When beggars die there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
_Julius Caesar, 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.


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.


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 niched 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.


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_.

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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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 aerial 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.



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.
_Faerie 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.

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.


Then came the jolly Sommer, being dight
In a thin silken cassock, coloured greene,
That was unlyned all, to be more light,
And on his head a garlande well beseene.
_Faerie 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.


Then came the Autumne, all in yellow clad,
As though he joyed 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 pinched 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.
_Faerie 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_).


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.
_Faerie 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.


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.


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.

All is confounded, all!
Reproach and everlasting shame
Sits mocking in our plumes.
_King Henry V., Act iv. Sc_. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

He was not born to shame:
Upon his brow shame was ashamed to sit.
_Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Himself sole author of his own disgrace.
_Hope_. W. COWPER.

Men the most infamous are fond of fame:
And those who fear not guilt, yet start at shame.
_The Author_. C. CHURCHILL.

Had it pleased Heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rained
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,--
I should have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at!
_Othello, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.


Build me straight, O worthy Master!
Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle.
_The Building of the Ship_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

She walks the waters like a thing of life.
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
_The Corsair, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

Hearts of oak are our ships,
Hearts of oak are our men.
_Hearts of Oak_. D. GARRICK.

Like a stately ship
Of Tarsus, bound for the isles
Of Javan or Gadire.
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,
Sails filled, and streamers waving,
Courted by all the winds that hold them play,
An amber scent of odorous perfume
Her harbinger.
_Samson Agonistes_. MILTON.

Behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,
Breasting the lofty surge.
_King Henry V., Act iii. Chorus_. SHAKESPEARE.

Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurled,
To furnish and accommodate a world,
To give the pole the produce of the sun,
And knit th' unsocial climates into one.
_Charity_. W. COWPER.

Dangerous rocks,
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,
Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing.
_Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

As rich....
As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
_King Henry V., Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Her deck is crowded with despairing souls,
And in the hollow pauses of the storm
We hear their piercing cries.
_Bertram_. C.R. MATURIN.

A brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perished.
_The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried.
... "It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.
_Christmas at Sea_. R.L. STEVENSON.


To love,
It is to be all made of sighs and tears.
_As You Like It, Act V. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

The world was sad.--the garden was a wild;
And Man, the hermit, sighed--till Woman smiled.
_Pleasures of Hope, Pt. I_. T. CAMPBELL.

Sighed and looked unutterable things.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

My soul has rest, sweet sigh! alone in thee.
_To Laura in Death_. PETRARCH.

Yet sighes, deare sighes, indeede true friends you are
That do not leave your left friend at the wurst,
But, as you with my breast I oft have nurst,
So, gratefull now, you waite upon my care.
_Sighes_. SIR PH. SIDNEY.

Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance,
Stole from her sister Sorrow.
_The Gardener's Daughter_. A. TENNYSON.


Three Silences there are: the first of speech,
The second of desire, the third of thought.
_The Three Silences of Molinos_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Stillborn silence! thou that art
Flood-gate of the deeper heart!
_Silence_. R. FLECKNOE

And silence, like a poultice, comes
To heal the blows of sound.
_The Music Grinder_. O.W. HOLMES.

Silence in love betrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
_The Silent Lover_. SIR W. RALEIGH.

Shallow brooks murmur moste,
deepe silent slide away.
_The Arcadia, Thirsis and Dorus_. SIR PH. SIDNEY.

What, gone without a word?
Aye, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
_Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

The rest is silence.
_Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.


Ay me, how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall.
_Faerie Queene, Bk. I_. E. SPENSER.

There is a method in man's wickedness,
It grows up by degrees.
_A King and no King, Act v. Sc. 4_. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Where is the man who has not tried
How mirth can into folly glide,
And folly into sin!
_The Bridal of Triermain, Canto I_. SIR W. SCOTT.

I see the right, and I approve it too,
Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue.
_Metamorphoses, VII. 20_. OVID. _Trans. of_ TATE AND STONESTREET.

I am a man
More sinned against than sinning.
_King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

The good he scorned
Stalked off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,
Not to return; or, if it did, in visits
Like those of angels, short and far between.
_The Grave, Pt. II_. R. BLAIR.

Man-like is it to fall into sin,
Fiend-like is it to dwell therein,
Christ-like is it for sin to grieve,
God-like is it all sin to leave.
_Sin_. F. VON LOGAU. _Trans. of_ LONGFELLOW.

O, what authority and show of truth
Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile.
_Missionary Hymn_. BISHOP R. HEBER.

And he that does one fault at first,
And lies to hide it, makes it two.
_Divine Songs_. DR. I. WATTS.

The oldest sins the newest kind of ways.
_Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

And out of good still to find means of evil.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. I_. MILTON.

But evil is wrought by want of thought,
As well as want of heart!
_The Lady's Dream_. T. HOOD.

Timely advised, the coming evil shun:
Better not do the deed, than weep it done.
_Henry and Emma_. M. PRIOR.


Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.
_King Henry IV. Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles,
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
His tears pure messengers sent from his heart,
His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
_Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
_King Richard III., Act iv. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Were there no heaven nor hell
I should be honest.
_Duchess of Malfi, Act i. Sc. 1_. J. WEBSTER.


One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
_Nutting_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Green calm below, blue quietness above.
_The Pennsylvania Pilgrim_ J.G. WHITTIER.

The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witchery of the soft blue sky!
_Peter Bell_. W. WORDSWORTH.

But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
_A Summer Evening_. DR. I. WATTS.

How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
_Written in a Volume of Shakespeare_. T. HOOD.

Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.
_Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world.
_Queen Mab, Pt. IV_. P.B. SHELLEY.

This majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.


Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep!
He, like the world, his ready visit pays
Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes:
Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe,
And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
_Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe;
But 'tis the happy that have called thee so.
_Curse of Kehama, Canto XV_. R. SOUTHEY.

Sleep seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
_The Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard.
_Cymbeline, Act iii Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.

O magic sleep! O comfortable bird,
That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind
Till it is hushed and smooth!
_Endymion, Bk. I_. J. KEATS.

Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me awhile from mine own company.
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc_. 2.

Then Sleep and Death, two twins of winged race,
Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace.
_Iliad, Bk. XVI_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes,
Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose
On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud
In gentle showers;... sing his pain
Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain.


Smiles from reason flow,
To brute denied, and are of love the food.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IX_. MILTON.

Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die,
Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own,
Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh?
_The Christian Year, 24th Sunday after Trinity_.

And the tear that is wiped with a little address,
May be followed perhaps by a smile.
_The Rose_. W. COWPER.

The social smile, the sympathetic tear.
_Education and Government_. T. GRAY.

Eternal smiles his emptiness betray.
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
_Satires: Prologue_. A. POPE.

So comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er.
The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more.
_The What d' ye Call 't_. J. GAY.


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.

Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be checked for silence,
But never taxed for speech.
_All's Well That Ends Well, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

A people is but the attempt of many
To rise to the completer life of one--
And those who live as models for the mass
Are singly of more value than they all.
_Luria, Act v_. R. BROWNING.

There my retreat the best companions grace,
Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place;
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
_Imitations of Horace, Satire I. Bk. II_. A. POPE.

Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take--and sometimes tea.
_Rape of the Lock, Canto III_. A. POPE.

Among unequals what society
Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
_Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.

The company is "mixed" (the phrase I quote is
As much as saying, they're below your notice).
_Beppo_. LORD BYRON.

Society is now one polished horde.
Formed of two mighty tribes, the _Bores_ and _Bored_.
_Don Juan, Canto XI_. LORD BYRON.


He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.
_The Task, Bk. IV_. W. COWPER.

A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court.
_King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Unbounded courage and compassion joined,
Tempering each other in the victor's mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the hero and the man complete.

* * * * *

And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.
_The Campaign_. J. ADDISON.

So restless Cromwell could not cease
In the inglorious arts of peace.
But through adventurous war
Urged his active star.
_A Horatian Ode: Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland_.

'T is the soldier's life
To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
_Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Some for hard masters, broken under arms,
In battle lopt away, with half their limbs,
Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valor saved.
_Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

His breast with wounds unnumbered riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.
_The Giaour_. LORD BYRON.

Wut's words to them whose faith an' truth
On War's red techstone rang true metal,
Who ventured life an' love an' youth
For the gret prize o' death in battle?
_The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. X_.

God's soldier he be!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs.
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knolled.
_Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 8_. SHAKESPEARE.

O, now, forever
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,

The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.


All heaven and earth are still,--though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most:
And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep;--
All heaven and earth are still;

* * * * *

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt
In solitude, where we are _least_ alone.
_Childe Harold, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

When, musing on companions gone,
We doubly feel ourselves alone.
_Marmion, Canto II. Introduction_. SIR W. SCOTT.

_Alone_!--that worn-out word,
So idly spoken, and so coldly heard;
Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known,
Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word--_Alone_!
_The New Timon, Pt. II_. E. BULWER-LYTTON.

O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought,
Lost to the noble, sallies of the soul!
Who think it solitude to be alone.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Converse with men makes sharp the glittering wit,
But God to man doth speak in solitude.
_Highland Solitude_. J.S. BLACKIE.

But, if much converse perhaps
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield;
For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IX_. MILTON.

Few are the faults we flatter when alone.
_Night Thoughts, Night V_. DR. E. YOUNG.

'Tis solitude should teach us how to die;
It hath no flatterers: vanity can give
No hollow aid; alone--man with his God must strive.
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

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.


When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions.
_Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
So fast they follow.
_Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes;
They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
_Night Thoughts, Night III_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate,
Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours
Weeping upon his bed has sate,
He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
_Hyperion, Bk. I. Motto: from Goethe's Wilhelm Meister_.

One fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is lessened by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be helped by backward turning;
One desp'rate grief cures with another's languish;
Take thou some new infection to the eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
_Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest!
_National Airs: All that's bright must fade_. T. MOORE.

O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan.
Sorrow calls no time that's gone:
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.
_The Queen of Corinth, Act iii. Sc. 2_. J. FLETCHER.

Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy.
_The Course of Time, Bk. I_. R. POLLOK.

Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest showers,
And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest winds.
_Misc. Sonnets, Pt. I. XXXIII_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Affliction is the good man's shining scene;
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray;
As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
_Night Thoughts, Night IX_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Like a ball that bounds
According to the force with which 'twas thrown
So in affliction's violence, he that's wise
The more he's cast down will the higher rise.
_Microcosmos_. T. NABBES.

O, fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know erelong,--
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
_The Light of Stars_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.


Summe up at night what thou hast done by day;
And in the morning what thou hast to do.
Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay
And growth of it: if, with thy watch, that too
Be down, then winde up both; since we shall be
Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree.
_The Temple: The Church Porch_. G. HERBERT.

Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.
_Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

O ignorant, poor man! what dost thou bear
Locked up within the casket of thy breast?
What jewels and what riches hast thou there?
What heavenly treasure in so weak a chest?
_Worth of the Soul_. SIR J. DAVIES.

Let Fortune empty all her quiver on me;
I have a soul that like an ample shield,
Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
_Sebastian, Act i. Sc. 1_. J. DRYDEN.

And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
_Of Tea_. E. WALLER.

A happy soul, that all the way
To heaven hath a summer's day.
_In Praise of Lessius' Mule of Health_. R. CRASHAW.

And rest at last where souls unbodied dwell,
In ever-flowing meads of Asphodel.
_Odyssey, Bk. XXIV_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.


Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs,
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
_Iliad, Bk. XIV_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

Discourse may want an animated "No"
To brush the surface, and to make it flow;
But still remember, if you mean to please,
To press your point with modesty and ease.
_Conversation_. W. COWPER.

One whom the music of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish like enchanting harmony.
_Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks,
The air, a chartered libertine, is still.
_King Henry V., Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks.
_Parody on Pope_. C. CIBBER.

Yet Hold it more humane, more heavenly, first,
By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
And make persuasion do the work of fear.
_Paradise Regained, Bk. I_. MILTON.

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

"Careful with fire," is good advice, we know,
"Careful with words," is ten times doubly so.
Thoughts unexpressed may sometimes fall back dead:
But God Himself can't kill them when they're said.
_First Settler's Story_. W. CARLETON.


GLENDOWER.--I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
HOTSPUR. --Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
_King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act III. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Spirits when they please
Can either sex assume, or both,

* * * * *

Can execute their airy purposes,
And works of love or enmity fulfil.
_Paradise Lost, Bk, I_. MILTON.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call
Will not depart when mortal voices bid;
Lords of the visionary eye, whose lid,
Once raised, remains aghast, and will not fall!

I shall not see thee. Dare I say
No spirit ever brake the band
That stays him from the native land,
Where first he walked when clasped in clay?

No visual shade of some one lost,
But he, the spirit himself, may come
Where all the nerve of sense is numb;
Spirit to spirit, ghost to ghost.
_In Memoriam, XCII_. A. TENNYSON.


Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Prologues, like compliments, are loss of time;
'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme.
_Prologue to Crisp's Tragedy of Virginia_. D. GARRICK.

Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse,
As undertakers walk before the hearse.
_Prologue to Apprentice_. D. GARRICK.

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting,
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.
_Retaliation_. O. GOLDSMITH.

The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give.
For we that live to please, must please to live.
_Prologue. Spoken by Mr. Garrick on Opening Drury
Lane Theatre, 1747_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold--
For this the tragic Muse first trod the stage.
_Prologue to Addison's Cato_. A. POPE.

As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious.
_Richard II., Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wanned?
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.
_Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

I have heard
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul, that presently
They have proclaimed their malefactions.

* * * * *

The play's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Lo, where the stage, the poor, degraded stage,
Holds its warped mirror to a gaping age.
_Curiosity_. C. SPRAGUE.

A veteran see! whose last act on the stage
Entreats your smiles for sickness and for age;
Their cause I plead,--plead it in heart and mind;
A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind.
_Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1776_. D. GARRICK.

Who teach the mind its proper face to scan,
And hold the faithful mirror up to man.
_The Actor_. R. LLOYD.


That full star that ushers in the even.

Her blue eyes sought the west afar,
For lovers love the western star.
_Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto III_. SIR W. SCOTT.

And fast by, hanging in a golden chain
This pendent world, in bigness as a star
Of smallest magnitude close by the moon.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Devotion! daughter of astronomy!
An undevout astronomer is mad.
_Night Thoughts, Night IX_. DR. E. YOUNG.

There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And cast a gleam over this tufted grove.
_Comus_. MILTON.

Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
_Evangeline, Pt. I_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

'Tis the witching hour of night,
Orbed is the moon and bright,
And the stars they glisten, glisten,
Seeming with bright eyes to listen--
For what listen they?
_A Prophecy_. J. KEATS.

There is no light in earth or heaven
But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of night is given
To the red planet Mars.
_The Light of Stars_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Sweet Phosphor, bring the day;
Light will repay
The wrongs of night;
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!
_Emblems, Bk. I_. F. QUARLES.

At whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Nor sink those stars in empty night,--
They hide themselves in heaven's own light.
_Issues of Life and Death_. J. MONTGOMERY.


A thousand years scarce serve to form a state;
An hour may lay it in the dust.
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

Who's in or out, who moves this grand machine,
Nor stirs my curiosity nor spleen:
Secrets of state no more I wish to know
Than secret movements of a puppet show:
Let but the puppets move, I've my desire,
Unseen the hand which guides the master wire.
_Night_. C. CHURCHILL.

Resolved to ruin or to rule the state.
_Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. II_. J. DRYDEN.

And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees,
And shape the whisper of the throne.
_In Memoriam, LXIII_. A. TENNYSON.

And statesmen at her council met
Who knew the seasons when to take
Occasion by the hand, and make
The bounds of freedom wider yet.
_To the Queen_. A. TENNYSON.

What should it be, that thus their faith can bind?
The power of Thought--the magic of the Mind!
Linked with success, assumed and kept with skill.
That moulds another's weakness to its will.
_The Corsair_. LORD BYRON.

'Tis thus the spirit of a single mind
Makes that of multitudes take one direction.
_Don Juan_. LORD BYRON.

For just experience tells, in every soil,
That those that think must govern those that toil.
_The Traveller_. O. GOLDSMITH.

A cutpurse of the empire and the rule.
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket!
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Some of their chiefs were princes of the land;
In the first rank of these did Zimri[A] stand;
A man so various, that he seemed to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome:
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;
Was everything by starts, and nothing long;
But, in the course of one revolving moon.
Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon;
Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking,
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
_Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I_. J. DRYDEN.

[Footnote A: George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.]

For close designs and crooked councils fit;
Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit;
Restless, unfixed in principles and place;
In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace:
A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er informed the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in extremity;
Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high
He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit,
Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
_Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I. (Earl of Shaftesbury.)_


I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by composture stolen
From general excrement: each thing's a thief.
_Timon of Athens, Act iv. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Kill a man's family and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
_Don Juan, Canto X_. LORD BYRON.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter:
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels:
Stolen, stolen be your apples.
_Song of Fairies_. T. RANDOLPH.

A tailor, though a man of upright dealing,--
True but for lying,--honest but for stealing.
_Of a Precise Tailor_. SIR J. HARRINGTON.

Thieves for their robbery have authority
When judges steal themselves.
_Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Thou hast stolen both mine office and my name;
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
_Comedy of Errors, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

In vain we call old notions fudge
And bend our conscience to our dealing,
The Ten Commandments will not budge
And stealing will continue stealing.
_Motto of American Copyright League_, 1885.


The lowering element
Scowls o'er the darkened landscape.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosened aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal,
Crushed, horrible, convulsing Heaven and Earth.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage,
Till, in the furious elemental war
Dissolved, the whole precipitated mass
Unbroken floods and solid torrents pour.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these?
_King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
_Julius Caesar, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds.
_Julius Caesar, Act_ i. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Rough with black winds, and storms
_Book I. Ode V_. HORACE. _Trans. of_ MILTON.

Lightnings, that show the vast and foamy deep,
The rending thunders, as they onward roll,
The loud, loud winds, that o'er the billows sweep--
Shake the firm nerve, appal the bravest soul!
_Mysteries of Udolpho: The Mariner_. MRS. ANN RADCLIFFE.


In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves
For a bright manhood, there is no such word
Richelieu, Act_ ii. _Sc. 2_. E. BULWER-LYTTON.

The star of the unconquered will.
_The Light of Stars_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

'T is not in mortals to command success,
But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve it.
_Cato, Act_ i. _Sc_. 2. J. ADDISON.

And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
_King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act_ ii. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Such a nature.
Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon.
_Coriolanus, Act_ i. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
The self-same way, with more advised watch.
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both,
I oft found both.
_Merchant of Venice, Act_ i. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.


That kills himself t' avoid misery, fears it,
And at the best shows but a bastard valor:
This life's a fort committed to my trust,
Which I must not yield up, till it be forced;
Nor will I: he's not valiant that dares die,
But he that boldly bears calamity.
_The Maid of Honor_. P. MASSINGER.

All mankind
Is one of these two cowards;
Either to wish to die
When he should live, or live when he should die.
_The Blind Lady_. SIR E. HOWARD.

Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand.
_Cymbeline, Act_ iii. _Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


That orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.
_Twelfth Night, Act_ v. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world,...
O Sun!
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Fires the proud tops of the eastern pines.
_King Richard II., Act_ iii. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

The lessening cloud,
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow,
Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach
Betoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all
Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colored air,
He looks in boundless majesty abroad;
And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wand'ring streams
High gleaming from afar.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap.
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto II_. DR. S. BUTLER.

"But," quoth his neighbor, "when the sun
From East to West his course has run,
How comes it that he shows his face
Next morning in his former place?"
"Ho! there's a pretty question, truly!"
Replied our wight, with an unruly
Burst of laughter and delight,
So much his triumph seemed to please him:
"Why, blockhead! he goes back at night,
And that's the reason no one sees him!"
_The Astronomical Alderman_. H. SMITH.


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