Tobacco's a musician,And in a pipe delighteth;It descends in a closeThrough the organ of the nose.With a relish that inviteth.Song: Play of Technogamia. B. HOLIDAY.
Some sigh for this and that;My wishes don't go far;The world may wag at will,So I have my cigar.The Cigar. T. HOOD.
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff,Makes half a sentence at a time enough;The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain,Then pause, and puff—and speak, and pause again.Conversation. W. COWPER.
To him 't was meat and drink and physic,To see the friendly vaporCurl round his midnight taper.And the black fumeClothe all the room,In clouds as dark as science metaphysic.Points of Misery. C.M. WESTMACOTT.
Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew,A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;The gnomes direct, to every atom just,The pungent grains of titillating dust;Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows,And the high dome re-echoes to his nose.Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.
To-morrow yet would reap to-day,As we bear blossoms of the dead;Earn well the thrifty months, nor wedRaw Haste, half-sister to Delay.Love Thou the Land. A. TENNYSON.
In human hearts what bolder thoughts can rise,Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn!Where is to-morrow?Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.
To-morrow is a satire on to-day,And shows its weakness.The Old Man's Repose. DR. E. YOUNG.
Nothing that is can pause or stay;The moon will wax, the moon will wane,The mist and cloud will turn to rain,The rain to mist and cloud again,To-morrow be to-day.Kéramos. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
To-morrow is, ah, whose?Between Two Worlds. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,And in his simple show he harbors treason.The fox barks not, when he would steal the lamb.King Henry VI., Pt. II. Act iii. Sc. 1SHAKESPEARE.
Treason is not owned when 't is descried;Successful crimes alone are justified.Medals. J. DRYDEN.
Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?For if it prosper, none dare call it treason.Epigrams. SIR J. BARRINGTON.
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocenceWith vizored falsehood and base forgery?Comus. MILTON.
Oh, for a tongue to curse the slaveWhose treason, like a deadly blight,Comes o'er the councils of the brave,And blasts them in their hour of might!Lalla Rookh: The Fire Worshipers. T. MOORE.
To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master.And cried "All hail!" whereas he meant all harm.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act v. Sc. 7SHAKESPEARE.
Tellest thou me of "ifs"? Thou art a traitor:Off with his head! so much for Buckingham!King Richard III. Altered, Act iv, Sc. 3. C. CIBBER
Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets hail!Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep!Delicious is your shelter to the soul.Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
Now all the tree-tops lay asleep,Like green waves on the sea,As still as in the silent deepThe ocean woods may be.The Recollection. P.B. SHELLEY.
Like two cathedral towers these stately pinesUplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;The arch beneath them is not built with stones,Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones,No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,And learn there may be worship without words.My Cathedral. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,Dream, and so dream all night without a stir.Hyperion, Bk. I. J. KEATS.
A brotherhood of venerable Trees.Sonnet composed at —— Castle. W. WORDSWORTH.
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascendShade above shade, a woody theatreOf stateliest view.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Of vast circumference and gloom profound,This solitary Tree! A living thingProduced too slowly ever to decay;Of form and aspect too magnificentTo be destroyed.Yew-Trees. W. WORDSWORTH.
A little fire is quickly trodden out,Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act iv, Sc. 8. SHAKESPEARE.
Pretty! in amber to observe the formsOf hair, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,But wonder how the devil they got there!Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot: Prologue to Satires. A. POPE.
At every trifle scorn to take offence;That always shows great pride or little sense.Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.
Think naught a trifle, though it small appear;Small sands the mountain, moments make the year.And trifles life.Love of Fame, Satire VI. DR. E. YOUNG.
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.The Frankeleines Tale. CHAUCER.
But truths on which depends our main concern,That 't is our shame and misery not to learn,Shine by the side of every path we treadWith such a lustre he that runs may read.Tirocinium. W. COWPER.
For truth has such a face and such a mien,As to be loved needs only to be seen.The Hind and Panther. J. DRYDEN.
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,And captive good attending captain ill.Sonnet LXVI. SHAKESPEARE.
The firste vertue, gone, if thou wilt lere,Is to restreine, and kepen wel thy tonge.The Manciples Tale. CHAUCER.
'T is strange—but true; for truth is always strange:Stranger than fiction.Don Juan, Canto XIV. LORD BYRON.
But what is truth? 'T was Pilate's question putTo Truth itself, that deigned him no reply.The. Task, Bk. III. W. COWPER.
The sages say, Dame Truth delights to dwell(Strange mansion!) in the bottom of a well:Questions are then the windlass and the ropeThat pull the grave old Gentlewoman up,Birthday Ode. J. WOLCOTT(Peter Pindar).
Get but the truth once uttered, and 't is likeA star new-born that drops into its placeAnd which, once circling in its placid round,Not all the tumult of the earth can shake.Glance Behind the Curtain. J.R. LOWELL.
So spake the Fiend, and with necessity,The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
TyrannyAbsolves all faith; and who invades our rights,Howe'er his own commence, can never beBut an usurper.Gustavus Vasa, Act iv. Sc. 1. H. BROOKE.
TyrannyIs far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deemNone rebels except subjects? The prince whoNeglects or violates his trust is moreA brigand than the robber-chief.The Two Foscari, Act ii. Sc. 1. LORD BYRON.
Slaves would be tyrants if the chance were theirs.The Vanished City. V. HUGO.
'Twixt kings and tyrants there's this difference known:Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their owne.Kings and Tyrants. R. HERRICK.
Oh! it is excellentTo have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannousTo use it like a giant.
* * * * *
Could great men thunderAs Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;For every pelting, petty officerWould use his heaven for thunder,—Nothing but thunder. Merciful Heaven!Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man!Drest in a little brief authority,—Most ignorant of what he's most assured,His glassy essence,—like an angry ape,Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,Would all themselves laugh mortal.Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
As eddies draw things frivolous and light,How is man's heart by vanity drawn in!Night ThoughtsDR. E. YOUNG.
One prospect lost, another still we gain;And not a vanity is giv'n in vain:Even mean Self-love becomes, by force divine,The scale to measure others' wants by thine.Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Sir Plume (of amber snuff-box justly vain,And the nice conduct of a clouded cane),With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,He first the snuff-box opened, then the case.Rape of the LockA. POPE.
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant.Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.King Richard II., Act ii. Sc. I. SHAKESPEARE.
The earth was made so various, that the mindOf desultory man, studious of change.And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.The Task, Bk. I. W. COWPER.
Variety's the very spice of life.That gives it all its flavor.The Timepiece: The Task, Bk. IIW. COWPER.
Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised.But, as the world, harmoniously confused,Where order in variety we see,And where, though all things differ, all agree.Windsor ForestA. POPE.
How various his employments whom the worldCalls idle, and who justly in returnEsteems that busy world an idler too!The Task: The Timepiece. W. COWPER.
The world in all doth but two nations bear,The good, the bad, and these mixed everywhere.The Loyal Scot. A. MARVELL.
What nothing earthly gives or can destroy,—The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy,Is Virtue's prize.Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures,That life is long, which answers life's great end.The time that bears no fruit, deserves no name.Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.
Good, the moreCommunicated, more abundant grows.Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth,That would be wooed, and not unsought be won.Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
Know then this truth (enough for man to know),"Virtue alone is happiness below."Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds;And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.The Mourning Bride, Act v. Sc. 12. W. CONGREVE.
That virtue only makes our bliss below,And all our knowledge is, ourselves to know.Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
Pygmies are pygmies still, though perched on Alps;And pyramids are pyramids in vales.Each man makes his own stature, builds himself:Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids;Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.Night Thoughts, Night VI. DR. E. YOUNG.
Abashed the devil stood,And felt how awful goodness is, and sawVirtue in her shape how lovely.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
So dear to heaven is saintly chastity,That, when a soul is found sincerely so,A thousand liveried angels lacky her,Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.Comus. MILTON.
Adieu, dear, amiable youth!Your heart can ne'er be wanting!May prudence, fortitude, and truthErect your brow undaunting!
In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed,"Still daily to grow wiser;And may you better reck the rede,Than ever did the adviser!Epistle to a Young Friend. R. BURNS.
Though lone the way as that already trod,Cling to thine own integrity and God!To One Deceived. H.T. TUCKERMAN.
Virtue she finds too painful to endeavor,Content to dwell in decencies forever.Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Keep virtue's simple path before your eyes,Nor think from evil good can ever rise.Tancred, Act v. Sc. 8. J. THOMSON.
Count that day lost whose low descending sunViews from thy hand no worthy action done.Staniford's Art of Reading. ANONYMOUS.
This above all.—to thine own self be true;And it must follow, as the night the day,Thou canst not then be false to any man.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
My thoughts by night are often filledWith visions false as fair:For in the past alone I buildMy castles in the air.Castles in the Air. T.L. PEACOCK.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,A blissful certainty, a vision bright,Of that rare happiness, which even on earthHeaven gives to those it loves.The Spanish Student, Act iii. Sc. 5. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme,The air-built castle, and the golden dream.The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame,And poet's vision of eternal fame.Dunciad, Bk. III. A. POPE.
And still they dream, that they shall still succeed;And still are disappointed. Rings the worldWith the vain stir. I sum up half mankind,And add two-thirds of the remaining half,And find the total of their hopes and fearsDreams, empty dreams.The Task, Bk. VI. W. COWPER.
[Witches vanish.BANQUO.—The earth hath bubbles as the water has,And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?MACBETH.—Into the air; and what seemed corporal meltedAs breath into the wind.Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds,In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war,Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use,And I do fear them.Julius Cæsar, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Lochiel, Lochiel! beware of the day;For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,But man cannot cover what God would reveal;'T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,And coming events cast their shadows before.Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
My sentence is for open war; of wilesMore unexpert I boast not: then let thoseContrive who need, or when they need, not now.Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
* * * * *
Cry "Havock!" and let slip the dogs of war.Julius Cæsar, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
In every heartAre sown the sparks that kindle fiery war;Occasion needs but fan them, and they blaze.The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.
Long peace, I find,But nurses dangerous humors up to strength,License and wanton rage, which war aloneCan purge away.Mustapha. D. MALLET.
The fire-eyed maid of smoky warAll hot and bleeding will we offer them.King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Lochiel, Lochiel! beware of the dayWhen the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight.They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down!Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
He is come to opeThe purple testament of bleeding war;But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sonsShall ill become the flower of England's face,Change the complexion of her maid-pale peaceTo scarlet indignation, and bedewHer pastures' grass with faithful English blood.King Richard II., Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
War, my lord,Is of eternal use to human kind;For ever and anon when you have passedA few dull years in peace and propagation,The world is overstocked with fools, and wantsA pestilence at least, if not a hero.Edwin. G. JEFFREYS.
O War! thou hast thy fierce delight,Thy gleams of joy intensely bright!Such gleams as from thy polished shieldFly dazzling o'er the battle-field!Lord of the Isles. SIR W. SCOTT.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators,Hath made the flinty and steel couch of warMy thrice-driven bed of down.Othello, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Hang out our banners on the outward walls;The cry is still,They come. Our castle's strengthWill laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lieTill famine and the ague eat them up.Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
War, war is still the cry.—"war even to the knife!"Childe Harold, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
O, the sight entrancing,When morning's beam is glancingO'er files arrayedWith helm and blade,And plumes, in the gay wind dancing!When hearts are all high beating,And the trumpet's voice repeatingThat song, whose breathMay lead to death,But never to retreating.O, the sight entrancing.When morning's beam is glancingO'er files arrayedWith helm and blade,And plumes, in the gay wind dancing.O, the sight entrancing. T. MOORE.
From the tents,The armorers, accomplishing the knights,With busy hammers closing rivets up,Give dreadful note of preparation.King Henry V., Act iv. Chorus. SHAKESPEARE.
Father, I call on thee!Clouds from the thunder-voiced cannon enveil me,Lightnings are flashing, death's thick darts assail me:Ruler of battles, I call on thee!Father, oh lead thou me!Prayer During the Battle. German ofK.T. KÖRNER.Trans. ofJ.S. BLACKIE.
Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains,While the kindling of life in his bosom remains,Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low,With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe;And leaving in battle no blot on his name,Look proudly to Heaven from the death-bed of fame!Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend;And each brave foe was in his soul a friend.The Iliad, Bk. VII. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
Ay me! what perils do environThe man that meddles with cold iron.Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto III. S. BUTLER.
Now swells the intermingling din; the jarFrequent and frightful of the bursting bomb;The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout,The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of menInebriate with rage;—loud, and more loudThe discord grows: till pale Death shuts the scene,And o'er the conqueror and the conquered drawsHis cold and bloody shroud.
* * * * *
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight,The lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade,And to those royal murderers whose mean thronesAre bought by crimes of treachery and gore.The bread they eat, the staff on which they lean.War. P.B. SHELLEY.
One to destroy is murder by the law;And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;To murder thousands takes a specious name,War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame.Love of Fame, Satire VII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Great princes have great playthings.
* * * * *
But war's a game which, were their subjects wise,Kings would not play at.The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.
One murder made a villain,Millions a hero. Princes were privilegedTo kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.DeathB. PORTEUS.
Mark where his carnage and his conquest cease!He makes a solitude, and calls it—peace!The Bride of Abydos, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,And takes away the use of it; and my sword.Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,Will not be drawn.A New Way to Pay Old Debts, Act v. Sc. 1. P. MASSINGER.
Ez fer war, I call it murder,—There you hev it plain an' flat;I don't want to go no furderThan my Testyment fer that.The Biglow Papers, First Series, No. I. J.R. LOWELL.
Water is the mother of the vine,The nurse and fountain of fecundity.The adorner and refresher of the world.The Dionysia. C. MACKAY.
Till taught by pain,Men really know not what good water's worth;If you had been in Turkey or in Spain,Or with a famished boat's-crew had your berth,Or in the desert heard the camel's bell,You'd wish yourself where Truth is—in a well.Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Water its living strength first shows,When obstacles its course oppose.God, Soul, and World. J.W. GOETHE.
The current, that with gentle murmur glides,Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage;But, when his fair course is not hinderèd,He makes sweet music with the enamelled stones,Giving a gentle kiss to every sedgeHe overtaketh in his pilgrimage.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Actii.Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,With here and there a violet bestrewn,Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave:And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.The Minstrel, Book II. J. BEATTIE.
Along thy wild and willowed shore;Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill,All, all is peaceful, all is still.Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.
With spots of sunny openings, and with nooksTo lie and read in, sloping into brooks.The Story of Rimini. L. HUNT.
The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below!Gertrude, Pt. III. T. CAMPBELL.
Thou hastenest down between the hills to meet me at the road,The secret scarcely lisping of thy beautiful abodeAmong the pines and mosses of yonder shadowy height.Where thou dost sparkle into song, and fill the woods with light.Friend Brook. LUCY LARCOM.
Brook! whose society the poet seeks,Intent his wasted spirits to renew;And whom the curious painter doth pursueThrough rocky passes, among flowery creeks.And tracks thee dancing down thy water breaks.Brook! Whose Society the Poet Seeks.W. WORDSWORTH.
The roar of waters!—from the headlong heightVelino cleaves the wave-worn precipice;The fall of waters! rapid as the lightThe flashing mass foams shaking the abyss;The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,And boil in endless torture.Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
Let beeves and home-bred kine partakeThe sweets of Burn-mill meadow;The swan on still St. Mary's LakeFloat double, swan and shadow!Yarrow Unvisited. W. WORDSWORTH.
Under the cooling shadow of a stately elm,Close sat I by a goodly river's side.Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm;A lonely place, with pleasures dignified.I, that once loved the shady woods so well.Now thought the rivers did the trees excel,And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell.Contemplations. ANNE BRADSTREET.
Two ways the riversLeap down to different seas, and as they rollGrow deep and still, and their majestic presenceBecomes a benefaction to the townsThey visit, wandering silently among them,Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.Christus: The Golden Legend, Pt. VH.W. LONGFELLOW.
Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tideThe glaring bale-fires blaze no more;No longer steel-clad warriors rideAlong thy wild and willowed shore.Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.
Is it not better, then, to be alone.And love Earth only for its earthly sake?By the blue rushing of the arrowy RhoneOr the pure bosom of its nursing lake…?Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
You leave us; you will see the Rhine,And those fair hills I sailed below,When I was there with him; and goBy summer belts of wheat and vine.In Memoriam, XCVII. A. TENNYSON.
There is a hill beside the silver Thames,Shady with birch and beech and odorous pine;And brilliant underfoot with thousand gems,Steeply the thickets to his floods decline.There is a Hill beside the Silver Thames. R.S. BRIDGES.
The torrent roared; and we did buffet itWith lusty sinews, throwing it aside,And stemming it with hearts of controversy.Julius Cæsar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
That was the River. It looked cool and deep,And as I watched, I felt it slipping pastAs if it smoothly swept along in sleep,Gleaning and gliding fast.A London Idyl. R. BUCHANAN.
It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands,Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream.The Nile. L. HUNT.
Here Wisdom calls, "Seek virtue first, be bold;As gold to silver, virtue is to gold."There London's voice, "Get money, money still,And then let Virtue follow if she will."Imitations of Horace, Epistle I. Bk. I. A. POPE.
The devil was piqued such saintship to behold,And longed to tempt him, like good Job of old;For Satan now is wiser than of yore,And tempts by making rich, not making poor.Moral Essays, Epistle III. A. POPE.
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fellFrom heaven; for even in heaven his looks and thoughtsWere always downward bent, admiring moreThe riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold,Than ought divine or holy else enjoyedIn vision beatific.Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth;His word would pass for more than he was worth.One solid dish his week-day meal affords,An added pudding solemnized the Lord's.Constant at church and change, his gains were sure,His giving Rare, save farthings to the poor.Moral Essays, Epistle III. A. POPE.
Gold begets in brethren hate;Gold in families debate;Gold does friendship separate;Gold does civil wars create.Anacreontics: Gold. A. COWLEY.
Trade it may help, society extend,But lures the Pirate, and corrupts the friend:It raises armies in a nation's aid,But bribes a senate, and the land's betrayed.Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE
The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest;The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless!The last corruption of degenerate man.Irene, Act i. Sc. I. DR. S. JOHNSON.
But in the temple of their hireling heartsGold is a living god, and rules in scornAll earthly things but virtue.Queen Mab, Pt. V. P.B. SHELLEY.
Gold! gold! gold! gold!Bright and yellow, hard and cold,Molten, graven, hammered and rolled;Heavy to get, and light to hold;Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold.Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled:Spurned by the young, but hugged by the oldTo the very verge of the churchyard mold;Price of many a crime untold:Gold! gold! gold! gold!Good or bad a thousand-fold!How widely its agencies vary,—To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,—As even its minted coins express.Now stamped with the image of good Queen Bess,And now of a Bloody Mary.Miss Kilmansegg. T. HOOD.
But all thing, which that shineth as the gold,Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told.Canterbury Tales. Chanones Yemannes Tale. CHAUCER.
Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey;The horse doth with the horseman run away.Imitations of Horace, Bk. I. A. COWLEY.
You have too much respect upon the world:They lose it, that do buy it with much care.Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
The world well tried—the sweetest thing in lifeIs the unclouded welcome of a wife.Lady Jane, Canto II. N.P. WILLIS.
Look through mine eyes with thine. True wife,Round my true heart thine arms entwine;My other dearer life in life,Look through my very soul with thine!The Miller's Daughter. A. TENNYSON.
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;And humble cares, and delicate fears,A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;And love, and thought, and joy.The Sparrow's Nest. W. WORDSWORTH.
My latest found,Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight.Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
She is mine own!And I as rich in having such a jewelAs twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
A wife, domestic, good, and pure,Like snail, should keep within her door;But not, like snail, with silver track,Place all her wealth upon her back.Good Wives. W.W. HOW.
How much the wife is dearer than the bride.An Irregular Ode. LORD LYTTELTON.
But earthlier happy is the rose distilled,Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.Midsummer Night's Dream, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
To cheer thy sickness, watch thy health,Partake, but never waste thy wealth,Or stand with smile unmurmuring by,And lighten half thy poverty.Bride of Abydos, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
This flour of wifely patience.The Clerkes Tale, Pt. V. CHAUCER.
And mistress of herself, though china fall.Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.The Happy Marriage. E. MOORE.
Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife;A bad, the bitterest curse of human life. SIMONIDES.
Yet true it is, as cow chews cud,And trees, at spring, do yield forth bud,Except wind stands as never it stood,It is an ill wind turns none to good.The Properties of Winds. T. TUSSER.
Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Pure was the temperate air, an even calmPerpetual reigned, save what the zephyrs blandBreathed o'er the blue expanse.Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
Under the yaller-pines I house,When sunshine makes 'em all sweet-scented,An' hear among their furry boughsThe baskin' west-wind purr contented.Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. X. J.R. LOWELL.
A breeze came wandering from the sky,Light as the whispers of a dream;He put the o'erhanging grasses by,And softly stooped to kiss the stream,The pretty stream, the flattered stream,The shy, yet unreluctant stream.The Wind and the Stream. W.C. BRYANT.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.Childe Harold, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
The moaning winds of autumn sang their song.A Sicilian Story. B.W. PROCTER(Barry Cornwall).
Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy mountains,Draughts of life to me.The North Wind. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.
I hear the wind among the treesPlaying celestial symphonies;I see the branches downward bent,Like keys of some great instrument.A Day of Sunshine. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
In winter when the dismal rainCame down in slanting lines,And wind, that grand old harper, smoteHis thunder-harp of pines.A Life Drama. A. SMITH.
'T was when the sea was roaringWith hollow blasts of wind.The What d' ye Call 't. J. GAY.
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The Lord descended from aboveAnd bowed the heavens high;And underneath his feet he castThe darkness of the sky.
On cherubs and on cherubimsFull royally he rode;And on the wings of all the windsCame flying all abroad.Hymns: Psalm CIV. T. STERNHOLD.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grapeCrushed the sweet poison of misused wine.Comus. MILTON.
In courts and palaces he also reigns,And in luxurious cities, where the noiseOf riot ascends above their loftiest towers,And injury, and outrage: and when nightDarkens the streets, then wander forth the sonsOf Belial, flown with insolence and wine.Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
From wine what sudden friendship springs!The Squire and his Cur. J. GAY.
And wine can of their wits the wise beguile.Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile.Odyssey, Bk. XIV. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
O, when we swallow downIntoxicating wine, we drink damnation;Naked we stand, the sport of mocking fiends.Who grin to see our nobler nature vanquished,Subdued to beasts.Wife's Reick. C. JOHNSON.
By wisdom wealth is won;But riches purchased wisdom yet for none.The Wisdom of Ali. B. TAYLOR.
On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows,In every rill a sweet instruction flows.Love of Fame: Satire I. DR. E. YOUNG.
In idle wishes fools supinely stay;Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.The Birth of Flattery. G. CRABBE.
Wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
And Wisdom's selfOft seeks to sweet retired solitude,Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation,She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings,That in the various bustle of resortWere all-to ruffled, and sometimes impaired.Comus. MILTON.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys,Superior wisdom is superior bliss.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise!Vanity of Human Wishes. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoopThan when we soar.The Excursion, Bk. III. W. WORDSWORTH.
To knowThat which before us lies in daily lifeIs the prime wisdom.Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven,And though no science, fairly worth the seven.Moral Essays, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
What a strange thing is man! and what a strangerIs woman! What a whirlwind is her head,And what a whirlpool full of depth and dangerIs all the rest about her.Don Juan, Canto IX. LORD BYRON.
O woman! lovely woman! nature made theeTo temper man; we had been brutes without you.Angels are painted fair, to look like you:There is in you all that we believe of heaven;Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,Eternal joy, and everlasting love.Venice Preserved, Act i. Sc. 1. T. OTWAY.
Without the smile from partial beauty won,O, what were man?—a world without a sun.Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMPBELL.
If the heart of a man is depressed with cares,The mist is dispelled when a woman appears.The Beggar's Opera, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. GAY.
In her first passion, woman loves her lover:In all the others, all she loves is love.Don Juan, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
Man's love is of man's life a thing apart;'T is woman's whole existence. Man may rangeThe court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart,Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchangePride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart,And few there are whom these cannot estrange:Men have all these resources, we but one,—To love again, and be again undone.Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed;She is a woman, therefore to be won.King Henry VI., Part I. Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Alas, the love of women! it is knownTo be a lovely and a fearful thing;For all of theirs upon that die is thrown,And if 't is lost, life hath no more to bringTo them but mockeries of the past atone,And their revenge is as the tiger's spring,Deadly and quick and crushing; yet as realTorture is theirs—what they inflict they feel.Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
We call it only pretty Fanny's way.An Elegy to an Old Beauty. T. PARNELL.
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.As You Like It, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans,And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair.The Princess: Prologue. A. TENNYSON.
If ladies be but young and fair,They have the gift to know it.As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Ladies like variegated tulips show,'T is to their changes half their charms we owe.Fine by defect, and delicately weak,Their happy spots the nice admirer take.Moral Essays, Pt. IIA. POPE.
And when a lady's in the case,You know all other things give place.The Hare and Many FriendsJ. GAY.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.Taming of the Shrew, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
For several virtuesHave I liked several women; never anyWith so full soul but some defect in herDid quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,And put it to the foil.Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
IAGO.—Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens,Saints in your injuries, devils being offended.
* * * * *
For I am nothing if not critical.Othello, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Had she been true,If heaven would make me such another worldOf one entire and perfect chrysolite,I'd not have sold her for it.Othello, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Lightly thou say'st that woman's love is false,The thought is falser far.Bertram. C.R. MATURIN.
But woman's grief is like a summer storm,Short as it violent is.Basil, Act v. Sc. 3. JOANNA BAILLIE.
When greater perils men environ,Then women show a front of iron;And, gentle in their manner, theyDo bold things in a quiet way.Betty Zane. T.D. ENGLISH.
First, then, a woman will, or won't, depend on 't;If she will do 't, she will, and there's an end on 't.But if she won't, since safe and sound your trust is,Fear is affront, and jealousy injustice.Epilogue to Zara. A. HILL.
I have no other but a woman's reason;I think him so because I think him so.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
She hugged the offender, and forgave the offence.Sex to the last.Cymon and Iphigenia. J. DRYDEN.
Woman may err, woman may give her mindTo evil thoughts, and lose her pure estate;But, for one woman who affronts her kindBy wicked passions and remorseless hate,A thousand make amends in age and youth,By heavenly pity, by sweet sympathy,By patient kindness, by enduring truth,By love, supremest in adversity.Praise of Women. C. MACKAY.
Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung,Not she denied him with unholy tongue;She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave,Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.Woman, her Character and Influence. E.S. BARRETT.
Earth's noblest thing, a woman perfected.Irenè. J.R. LOWELL.
Shalt show us how divine a thingA woman may be made.To a Young Lady. W. WORDSWORTH.
Her voice was ever soft,Gentle, and low.—an excellent thing in woman.King Lear, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.Romeo and Juliet, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
And yet believe me, good as well as ill,Woman 's at best a contradiction still.Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
For woman is not undeveloped manBut diverse; could we make her as the manSweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this:Not like to like but like in difference.The Princess, XII. A. TENNYSON.
Through all the drama—whether damned or not—Love gilds the scene, and women guide the plot.The Rivals: Epilogue. R.B. SHERIDAN.
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,But to be young was very Heaven!The Prelude, Bk. XI. W. WORDSWORTH.
O Life! how pleasant in thy morning,Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning!Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning,We frisk away,Like school-boys at th' expected warning,To joy and play.Epistle to James Smith. R. BURNS.
O, would I were a boy again,When life seemed formed of sunny years,And all the heart then knew of painWas wept away in transient tears!O, would I were a boy again. M. LEMON.
This morning, like the spirit of a youthThat means to be of note, begins betimes.Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Long as the year's dull circle seems to runWhen the brisk minor pants for twenty-one.Imitations of Horace, Epistle I. Bk, I. A. POPE.
A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.Don Juan, Canto XV. LORD BYRON.
"Young, gay, and fortunate!" Each yields a theme.And, first, thy youth: what says it to gray hairs?Narcissa, I'm become thy pupil now;—Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew,She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.
This bud of lovely Summer's ripening breath,May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales,And his comrades, that daffed the world aside,And bid it pass.King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Is in the very May-morn of his youth,Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.King Henry V., Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow;Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so.Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.
My salad days;When I was green in judgment.Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
The spirit of a youthThat means to be of note, begins betimes.Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Returning, he proclaims by many a grace,By shrugs and strange contortions of his face,How much a dunce that has been sent to roam,Excels a dunce that has been kept at home.The Progress of Error. W. COWPER.
Young fellows will be young fellows.Love in a Village, Act ii. Sc. 2. I. BICKERSTAFF.
Young men soon give and soon forget affronts;Old age is slow in both.Canto, Act ii. J. ADDISON.
Ah who, when fading of itself away,Would cloud the sunshine of his little day!Now is the May of life. Careering round,Joy wings his feet, joy lifts him from the ground!Human Life. S. ROGERS.
Our youth we can have but to-day:We may always find time to grow old.Can Love be Controlled by Advice? BISHOP G. BERKELEY.
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!Ere I was old! Ah woful Ere.Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!Youth and Age. S.T. COLERIDGE.
Zeal and duty are not slow;But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.Paradise Regained, Bk. III. MILTON.
For virtue's self may too much zeal be had;The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.Satires of Horace, Sat. I Bk. II. A. POPE.
No seared conscience is so fellAs that, which has been burned with zeal;For Christian charity's as wellA great impediment to zeal,As zeal's a pestilent diseaseTo Christian charity and peace.Miscellaneous Thoughts. S. BUTLER.
Easy still it proves, in factious times,With public zeal to cancel private crimes.Absalom and Achitophel. J. DRYDEN.
Awake, my soul; stretch every nerve,And press with vigor on:A heavenly race demands thy zeal,And an immortal crown.Zeal and Vigor in the Christian Race. PH. DODDRIDGE.