Along the river's summer walk,The withered tufts of asters nod;And trembles on its arid stalkThe hoar plume of the golden-rod.And on a ground of sombre fir,And azure-studded juniper,The silver birch its buds of purple shows,And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose!Last Walk in Autumn. J.G. WHITTIER.
The right to be a cussed foolIs safe from all devices human,It's common (ez a gin'l rule)To every critter born of woman.The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. 7. J.R. LOWELL.
No creature smarts so little as a fool.Prologue to Satires. A. POPE.
The fool hath planted in his memoryAn army of good words; and I do knowA many fools, that stand in better place,Garnished like him, that for a tricksy wordDefy the matter.Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
A limbo large and broad, since calledThe Paradise of fools, to few unknown.Paradise Lost, Bk. III. MILTON.
Who are a little wise the best fools be.The Triple Fool. J. DONNE.
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.Essay on Criticism, Pt. III. A. POPE.
In idle wishes fools supinely stay;Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.The Birth of Flattery. G. CRABBE.
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;And to do that well craves a kind of wit.Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Some positive, persisting fools we know,Who, if once wrong, will need be always so;But you with pleasure own your errors past,And make each day a critique on the last.Essay on Criticism, Pt. III. A. POPE.
Good to forgive:Best to forget.La Saisiaz: Prologue. R. BROWNING.
We bury love,Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.A Boy's Poem. A. SMITH.
Go, forget me—why should sorrowO'er that brow a shadow fling?Go, forget me—and to-morrowBrightly smile and sweetly sing.Smile—though I shall not be near thee;Sing—though I shall never hear thee.Song: Go, Forget Me! C. WOLFE.
Forgotten? No, we never do forget:We let the years go; wash them clean with tears.Leave them to bleach out in the open dayOr lock them careful by, like dead friends' clothes,Till we shall dare unfold them without pain,—But we forget not, never can forget.A Flower of a Day. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.
Good nature and good sense must ever join;To err is human, to forgive divine.Essay on Criticism, Pt. I. A. POPE.
Forgiveness to the injured does belong;But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.Conquest of Granada, Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 2. J. DRYDEN.
Thou whom avenging powers obey,Cancel my debt (too great to pay)Before the sad accounting day.On the Day of Judgment. W. DILLON.
Some write their wrongs in marble: he, more just,Stooped down serene and wrote them in the dust,Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind.There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie,And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.Boulter's Monuments. S. MADDEN.
The more we know, the better we forgive;Who'er feels deeply, feels for all who live.Corinne. MADAME DE STAËL.
Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many,But yet she never gave enough to any.Epigrams. SIR J. HARRINGTON.
Are there not, dear Michal,Two points in the adventure of the diver,One—when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge?One—when, a prince, he rises with his pearl?Festus, I plunge.Paracelsus. R. BROWNING.
When Fortune means to men most good,She looks upon them with a threatening eye.King John, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Fortune in men has some small diff'rence made,One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade:The cobbler aproned, and the parson gowned,The friar hooded, and the monarch crowned.Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind,Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind.Second Book of Horace, Satire II. A. POPE.
Will Fortune never come with both hands full,But write her fair words still in foulest letters?She either gives a stomach, and no food—Such are the poor in health: or else a feast,And takes away the stomach—such are the rich,That have abundance and enjoy it not.K. Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Under heaven's high copeFortune is god—all you endure and doDepends on circumstance as much as you.Epigrams. From the Greek. P.B. SHELLEY.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;Omitted, all the voyage of their lifeIs bound in shallows and in miseries.On such a full sea are we now afloat;And we must take the current when it serves,Or lose our ventures.Julius Caesar, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear;As seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are near.White Devil, Act v. Sc. 6. J. WEBSTER.
Oh, how portentous is prosperity!How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.
I have set my life up on a cast,And I will stand the hazard of the die.King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Blessed are thoseWhose blood and judgment are so well commingled,That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger,To sound what stop she please.Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
There is some soul of goodness in things evil,Would men observingly distil it out.King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Who cometh over the hills,Her garment with morning sweet,The dance of a thousand rillsMaking music before her feet?Her presence freshens the air,Sunshine steals light from her face.The leaden footstep of CareLeaps to the tune of her pace,Fairness of all that is fair,Grace at the heart of all grace!Sweetener of hut and of hall,Bringer of life put of naught,Freedom, O, fairest of allThe daughters of Time and Thought!Ode to Freedom: Centennial Anniversary of the Battle ofConcord, April19, 1875. J.R. LOWELL.
Of old sat Freedom on the heights,The thunders breaking at her feet:Above her shook the starry lights:She heard the torrents meet.
* * * * *
Her open eyes desire the truth.The wisdom of a thousand yearsIs in them. May perpetual youthKeep dry their light from tears.Of old sat Freedom on the heights. A. TENNYSON.
No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show,That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.
* * * * *
Religion, virtue, truth, whate'er we callA blessing—Freedom is the pledge of all.Table Talk. W. COWPER.
A day, an hour, of virtuous libertyIs worth a whole eternity in bondage.Cato, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. ADDISON.
The love of liberty with life is given,And life itself the inferior gift of Heaven.Polamon and Arcite, Bk. II. J. DRYDEN.
'Tis liberty alone that gives the flowerOf fleeting life its lustre and perfume;And we are weeds without it.The Task, Bk. V. W. COWPER.
I must have libertyWithal, as large a charter as the wind,To blow on whom I please.As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,And still revolt when truth would set them free.License they mean, when they cry Liberty;For who loves that must first be wise and good.On the Detraction which followed upon my writingCertain Treatises, II. MILTON.
The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed;Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod,Than be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to God.On the Capture of Certain Fugitive Slaves near Washington. J.R.LOWELL.
The sword may pierce the beaver,Stone walls in time may sever;'T is mind alone,Worth steel and stone,That keeps men free forever.O, the sight entrancing. T. MOORE.
Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,Throws its last fetters off; and who shall placeA limit to the giant's unchained strength,Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?The Ages. W.C. BRYANT.
Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying,Streams like the thunder-stormagainstthe wind.Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
Freedom needs all her poets; it is theyWho give her aspirations wings,And to the wiser law of music swayHer wild imaginings.To the Memory of Hood. J.R. LOWELL.
Free soil, free men, free speech, free press,Fremont and victory!Chorus: Republican Campaign Song, 1856.R.R. RAYMOND.
A ruddy drop of manly bloodThe surging sea outweighs;The world uncertain comes and goes,The lover rooted stays.Epigraph to friendship. R.W. EMERSON.
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul!Sweet'ner of life! and solder of society!The Grave. R. BLAIR.
Friendship is the cement of two minds,As of one man the soul and body is;Of which one cannot sever but the otherSuffers a needful separation.Revenge. G. CHAPMAN.
A friendship that like love is warm,A love like friendship steady.How Shall I Woo? T. MOORE.
Friendship's the image ofEternity, in which there's nothingMovable, nothing mischievous.Endymion. J. LILLY.
Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;Friendship is a sheltering tree;O the Joys, that came down shower-like,Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,Ere I was old!Youth and Age. S.T. COLERIDGE.
'T is sweet, as year by year we loseFriends out of sight, in faith to museHow grows in Paradise our store.Burial of the Dead. J. KEBLE.
I praise the Frenchman,[A] his remark was shrewd,How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude!But grant me still a friend in my retreat,Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet.Retirement. W. COWPER.
[Footnote A: La Bruyère, saysBartlett.]
Friendship's an abstract of love's noble flame,'Tis love refined, and purged from all its dross,'Tis next to angel's love, if not the same.Friendship: A Poem. CATH. PHILLIPS.
Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene;Resumes them, to prepare us for the next.Night Thoughts. DR. E. YOUNG.
A day for toil, an hour for sport,But for a friend is life too short.Considerations by the Way. R.W. EMERSON.
But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend;Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm.Some I remember, and will ne'er forget.Course of Time, Bk, V. R. POLLOK.
A generous friendship no cold medium knows,Burns with one love, with one resentment glows;One should our interests and our passions be,My friend must hate the man that injures me.Iliad, Bk. IX. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
Nor hope to findA friend, but what has found a friend in thee.Night Thoughts. Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.
Friendship, peculiar boon of Heaven,The noble mind's delight and pride,To men and angels only given,To all the lower world denied.Friendship: An Ode. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar:The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Turn him, and see his threads: look if he beFriend to himself, that would be friend to thee:For that is first required, a man be his own;But he that's too much that is friend to none.Underwood. B. JONSON.
Lay this into your breast:Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.Duchess of Malfy. J. WEBSTER.
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted;If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returningBack to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full ofrefreshment;That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.Evangeline. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
True happinessConsists not in the multitude of friends,But in the worth and choice.Cynthia's Revels. B. JONSON.
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his earA stranger to thy thoughts.Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Friendship above all ties does bind the heart;And faith in friendship is the noblest part.King Henry V. EARL OF ORRERY.
Be kind to my remains; and O, defend,Against your judgment, your departed friend!Epistle to Congreve. J. DRYDEN.
O summer friendship,Whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us inOur prosperity, with the least gust drop offIn the autumn of adversity.The Maid of Honor. P. MASSINGER.
Such is the use and noble end of friendship,To bear a part in every storm of fate.Generous Conqueror. B. HIGGONS.
Friendship, like love, is but a name,Unless to one you stint the flame.
* * * * *
'T is thus in friendships: who dependOn many, rarely find a friend.Fables: The Hare and many Friends. J. GAY.
Like summer friends,Flies of estate and sunneshine.The Answer. G. HERBERT.
What the declined isHe shall as soon read in the eyes of othersAs feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
The man that hails you Tom or Jack,And proves, by thumping on your back,His sense of your great merit,Is such a friend, that one had needBe very much his friend indeedTo pardon, or to bear it.On Friendship. W. COWPER.
Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,Bold I can meet,—perhaps may turn his blow;But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,Save, save, oh! save me from theCandid Friend!New Morality. G. CANNING.
Friendship is constant in all other things,Save in the office and affairs of love.Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
If I speak to thee in Friendship's name,Thou think'st I speak too coldly;If I mention Love's devoted flame,Thou say'st I speak too boldly.How Shall I Woo? T. MOORE.
Of all our good, of all our bad,This one thing only is of worth,We held the league of heart to heartThe only purpose of the earth.More Songs from Vagabondia: Envoy. R. HOVEY.
It's an owercome sooth for age an' youth,And it brooks wi' nae denial,That the dearest friends are the auldest friendsAnd the young are just on trial.Poems: In Scots. R.L. STEVENSON.
For friendship, of itself a holy tie,Is made more sacred by adversity.The Hind and the Panther. J. DRYDEN.
O Friendship, flavor of flowers! O lively sprite of life!O sacred bond of blissful peace, the stalwart staunch of strife.Of Friendship. N. GRIMOALD.
I feel my sinews slacken with the fright,And a cold sweat thrills down o'er all my limbs,As if I were dissolving into water.The Tempest. J. DRYDEN.
But that I am forbidTo tell the secrets of my prison-house,I could a tale unfold, whose lightest wordWould harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,Thy knotted and combined locks to part,And each particular hair to stand on end,Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:But this eternal blazon must not beTo ears of flesh and blood.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isleFrom her propriety.Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Often do the spiritsOf great events stride on before the events,And in to-day already walks to-morrow.The Death of Wallenstein. S.T. COLERIDGE.
When I consider life, 't is all a cheat.Yet, fooled with hope, men favor the deceit;Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:To-morrow's falser than the former day;Lies worse; and, while it says we shall be blestWith some new joys, cuts off what we possest.Strange cozenage! none would live past years again.Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain.Aureng-Zebe; or, The Great Mogul, Act iv. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.
As though there were a tie,And obligation to posterity.We get them, bear them breed and nurse.What has posterity done for us,That we, lest they their rights should lose,Should trust our necks to gripe of noose?McFingal, Canto II. J. TRUMBULL.
The best of prophets of the Future is the Past.Letter, Jan. 28, 1821. LORD BYRON.
He is gentil that doth gentil dedis.Canterbury Tales: The Wyf of Bathes Tale. CHAUCER.
The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne;For a man by nothing is so well bewrayedAs by his manners.Faërie Queene, Bk. VI. Canto IV. E. SPENSER.
Tho' modest, on his unembarrassed browNature had written—"Gentleman."Don Juan, Canto IX. LORD BYRON.
I freely told you, all the wealth I hadRan in my veins, I was a gentleman.Merchant of Venice, Act iii, Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
"I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art;Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,Do give thee five-fold blazon.Twelfth Night, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Nothing to blush for and nothing to hide,Trust in his character felt far and wide;Be he a noble, or be he in trade,This is the gentleman Nature has made.What is a Gentleman? N.L. O'DONOGHUE.
And thus he bore without abuseThe grand old name of gentleman,Defamed by every charlatan,And soiled with all ignoble use.In Memoriam, CX. A. TENNYSON.
His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.Absalom and Achitophel. J. DRYDEN.
What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shadeInvites my steps and points to yonder glade?To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.
What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew,Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew?Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet. B. JONSON.
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-nightHave struck more terror to the soul of RichardThan can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
And then it started, like a guilty thingUpon a fearful summons. I have heard,The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throatAwake the god of day; and at his warning,Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,The extravagant and erring spirit hiesTo his confine.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
MACBETH. Thou canst not say I did it; never shakeThy gory locks at me.
* * * * *
LADY MACBETH. O proper stuff!This is the very painting of your fear;This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,Led you to Duncan.MACBETH. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! howsay you?
* * * * *
The times have been,That, when the brains were out, the man would die,And there an end; but now they rise again,With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,And push us from our stools.
* * * * *
Avaunt! and quit my sight. Let the earth hide thee!Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;Thou hast no speculation in those eyes,Which thou dost glare with!
* * * * *
Hence, horrible shadow!Unreal mockery, hence!Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Glory is like a circle in the water,Which never ceaseth to enlarge itselfTill, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.Henry VI., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright,But looked to near have neither heat nor light.The White Devil, Act v. Sc. 1. J. WEBSTER.
We rise in glory, as we sink in pride:Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
The glory dies not, and the grief is past.On the Death of Sir Walter Scott. SIR S. BRYDGES.
What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say,That, in powerful language, felt, not heard,Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their breastThese arts of love diffuses? What, but God?Inspiring God! who, boundless Spirit all,And unremitting Energy, pervades.Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole.The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
The Somewhat which we name but cannot know,Ev'n as we name a star and only seeIts quenchless flashings forth, which ever showAnd ever hide him, and which are not he.Wordsworth's Grave, I. W. WATSON.
A Deity believed, is joy begun;A Deity adored, is joy advanced;A Deity beloved, is joy matured.Each branch of piety delight inspires.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Thou, my all!My theme! my inspiration! and my crown!My strength in age! my rise in low estate!My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth!—my world!My light in darkness! and my life in death!My boast through time! bliss through eternity!Eternity, too short to speak thy praise!Or fathom thy profound of love to man!Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG.Happy the man who sees a God employedIn all the good and ill that checker life.The Task, Bk. II. W. COWPER.
O thou, whose certain eye foreseesThe fixed event of fate's remote decrees.Odyssey, Bk. IV. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend,—Path, motive, guide, original, and end.The Rambler, No. 7. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Whatever is, is in its causes just.Oedipus, Act. iii. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.
He that doth the ravens feedYea, providently caters for the sparrow,Be comfort to my age!As You Like It, Act. ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,A hero perished, or a sparrow fall,Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,And now a bubble burst, and now a world.Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
Yet I shall temper soJustice with mercy, as may illustrate mostThem fully satisfied, and Thee appease.Paradise Lost, Bk. X. MILTON.
God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love.Of Immortality. M.F. TUPPER.
Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place,(Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism,Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon,Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them close,And, hooting at the glorious Sun in Heaven,Cries out, "Where is it?"Fears in Solitude. S.T. COLERIDGE.
God sendeth and giveth, both mouth and the meat.Points of Good Husbandry. T. TUSSER.
'T is Providence alone securesIn every change both mine and yours.A Fable. W. COWPER.
Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor;And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.
That God, which ever lives and loves,One God, one law, one element,And one far-off divine event,To which the whole creation moves.In Memoriam; Conclusion. A. TENNYSON.
Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.The Iliad, Bk. I. HOMER.Trans. ofBRYANT.
Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.The Iliad, Bk. I. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
High in the home of the summers, the seats of the happy immortals,Shrouded in knee-deep blaze, unapproachable; there ever youthfulHebè, Harmoniè, and the daughter of Jove, AphroditèWhirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours andGraces.Andromeda. CH. KINGSLEY.
Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thighHalf buried in the eagle's down.Sole as a flying star, shot thro' the sky,Above the pillared town.Palace of Art. A. TENNYSON.
As sweet and musicalAs bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;And when Love speaks, the voice of all the godsMakes heaven drowsy with the harmony.Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Who knows not Circè,The daughter of the Sun, whose charmèd cupWhoever tasted lost his upright shape,And downward fell into a grovelling swine?Comus. MILTON.
Cupid is a knavish lad,Thus to make poor females mad.Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid:Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans.Love's Labor's Lost, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
No wonder Cupid is a murderous boy:A fiery archer making pain his joy.His dam, while fond of Mars, is Vulcan's wife,And thus 'twixt fire and sword divides her life.Greek Anthology. MELEAGER.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vicesMake instruments to plague us.King Lear, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?Draw near them then in being merciful;Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.Titus Andronicus, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
What good I see humbly I seek to do,And live obedient to the law, in trustThat what will come, and must come, shall come well.The Light of Asia. SIR E. ARNOLD.
There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as before;The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound.Abt Vogler, IX. R. BROWNING.
Now, at a certain time, in pleasant mood,He tried the luxury of doing good.Tales of the Hall, Bk. III. G. CRABBE.
'T is well said again;And 't is a kind of good deed to say well:And yet words are no deeds.King Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Look round the habitable world, how fewKnow their own good, or, knowing it, pursue!Juvenal, Satire X. J. DRYDEN.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
The still small voice of gratitude.For Music. T. GRAY.
A grateful mindBy owing owes not, but still pays, at onceIndebted and discharged.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deedsWith coldness still returning;Alas! the gratitude of menHath oftener left me mourning.Simon Lee. W. WORDSWORTH.
Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
There is a calm for those who weep,A rest for weary pilgrims found,They softly lie and sweetly sleepLow in the ground.The Grave. J. MONTGOMERY.
Ah, the grave's a quiet bed:She shall sleep a pleasant sleep,And the tears that you may shedWill not wake her—therefore weep!The Last Scene. W. WINTER.
O, snatched away in beauty's bloom,On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;But on thy turf shall roses rearTheir leaves, the earliest of the year,And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:O, Snatched Away! LORD BYRON.
Yet shall thy grave with rising flow'rs be dressed.And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast;There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,There the first roses of the year shall blow.Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.
And from his ashes may be madeThe violet of his native land.In Memoriam, XVIII. A. TENNYSON.
Sweets to the sweet: farewell,I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife:I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,And not t' have strewed thy grave.Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
How loved, how honored once, avails thee not,To whom related, or by whom begot;A heap of dust alone remains of thee;'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be!Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.
Lay her i' the earth;And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring!Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Brave Percy, fare thee well!Ill-weaned ambition, how much art thou shrunk:When that this body did contain a spirit,A kingdom for it was too small a bound;But now, two paces of the vilest earthIs room enough.King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Oft let me range the gloomy aisles alone,Sad luxury! to vulgar minds unknown,Along the walls where speaking marbles showWhat worthies form the hallowed mould below;Proud names, who once the reins of empire held,In arms who triumphed, or in arts excelled;Chiefs, graced with scars, and prodigal of blood;Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood;Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;And saints, who taught and led the way to heaven.On the Death of Mr. Addison. T. TICKELL.
The solitary, silent, solemn scene,Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,Blended in dust together; where the slaveRests from his labors; where th' insulting proudResigns his powers; the miser drops his hoard:Where human folly sleeps.Ruins of Rome. J. DYER.
Then to the grave I turned me to see what therein lay;'T was the garment of the Christian, worn out and thrown away.Death and the Christian. F.A. KRUMMACHER.
That man is great, and he alone,Who serves a greatness not his own,For neither praise nor pelf:Content to know and be unknown:Whole in himself.A Great Man. LORD LYTTON (Owen Meredith).
He fought a thousand glorious wars,And more than half the world was his,And somewhere, now, in yonder stars,Can tell, mayhap, what greatness is.The Chronicle of the Drum. W.M. THACKERAY.
Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven;No pyramids set off his memories,But the eternal substance of his greatness,—To which I leave him.The False One, Act ii. Sc. 1. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Greatness on goodness loves to slide, not stand,And leaves, for fortune's ice, vertue's firm land.Turkish History. Under a portrait of Mustapha I. R. KNOLLES.
Such souls,Whose sudden visitations daze the world,Vanish like lightning, but they leave behindA voice that in the distance far awayWakens the slumbering ages.Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 7. SIR H. TAYLOR.
Every one can master grief, but he that has it.Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The grief that does not speakWhispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
No words suffice the secret soul to show,For truth denies all eloquence to woe.The Corsair, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
No greater grief than to remember daysOf joy when misery is at hand.Inferno, Canto V. DANTE.
I am not mad;—I would to heaven I were!For then, 'tis like I should forget myself;O, if I could, what grief I should forget!King John, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul,Follow thy friend beloved!But in the lonely hour,But in the evening walk,Think that he accompanies thy solitude;Think that he holds with theeMysterious intercourse:And though remembrance wake a tear,There will be joy in grief.The Dead Friend. R. SOUTHEY.HABIT.
Habit with him was all the test of truth;"It must be right: I've done it from my youth."The Borough, Letter III. G. CRABBE.
How use doth breed a habit in a man!This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,I better brook than flourishing peopled town.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Hackneyed in business, wearied at that oar,Which thousands, once fast chained to, quit no more.Retirement. W. COWPER.
Small habits, well pursued betimes,May reach the dignity of crimes.Florio, Pt. I. HANNAH MORE.
Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.Metamorphoses, Bk. XV. OVID.Trans. ofDRYDEN.
Those curious locks so aptly twined,Whose every hair a soul doth bind.To A.L. Persuasions to Love. T. CAREW.
Beware of her fair hair, for she excelsAll women in the magic of her locks;And when she winds them round a young man's neck,She will not ever set him free again.Faust: Sc. Walpurgis Night. GOETHE.Trans. ofSHELLEY.
Her glossy hair was clustered o'er a browBright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth.Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette,It was finer than silk of the floss, my pet;'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist,'Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed—'Twas the loveliest hair in the world, my pet.Janette's Hair. C.G. HALPINE (Miles O'Reilly).
As she fled fast through sun and shade,The happy winds upon her played,Blowing the ringlets from the braid.Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. A. TENNYSON.
Come let me pluck that silver hairWhich 'mid thy clustering curls I see;The withering type of time or careHas nothing, sure, to do with thee.The Grey Hair. A.A. WATTS.
Without the bed her other fair hand was,On the green coverlet; whose perfect whiteShowed like an April daisy on the grass,With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.Lucrece. SHAKESPEARE.
The hand of a woman is often, in youth,Somewhat rough, somewhat red, somewhat graceless, in truth;Does its beauty refine, as its pulses grow calm,Or as sorrow has crossed the life line in the palm?Lucile, Pt. I. Canto III. (Owen Meredith). LORD LYTTON.
They may seizeOn the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand.Romeo and Juliet. Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
As if the world and they were hand and glove.Table Talk. W. COWPER.
With an angry wafture of your hand,Gave sign for me to leave you.Julius Cæsar, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Then join in hand, brave Americans all;By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall.The Liberty Song(1768). J. DICKINSON.
Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere:'Tis nowhere to be found, or ev'ry where;'Tis never to be bought, but always free.Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
We're charmed with distant views of happiness,But near approaches make the prospect less.Against Enjoyment. T. YALDEN.
For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart:And makes his pulses fly,To catch the thrill of a happy voice,And the light of a pleasant eye.Saturday Afternoon. N.P. WILLIS.
True happiness ne'er entered at an eye;True happiness resides in things unseen.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Some place the bliss in action, some in ease,Those call it pleasure, and contentment these.Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
The spider's most attenuated threadIs cord, is cable, to man's tender tieOn earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.
The way to bliss lies not on beds of down,And he that had no cross deserves no crown.Esther. F. QUARLES.
Who love too much hate in the like extreme.The Odyssey. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
These two hated with a hateFound only on the stage.Don Juan, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.The Mourning Bride, Actiii.Sc. 8. W. CONGREVE.
Oh, the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,—A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing.The Captive Greek Girl. J. PARDOE.
His heart was one of those which most enamor us,Wax to receive, and marble to retain.Beppo. LORD BYRON.
There is an evening twilight of the heart,When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.Twilight. F-G. HALLECK.
Worse than a bloody hand is a bloody heart.The Cenci, Actv.Sc. 2. P.B. SHELLEY.
Who, for the poor renown of being smart,Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?Love of Fame, Satire II. DR. E. YOUNG.
Nor peace nor ease the heart can know,Which, like the needle true,Turns at the touch of joy or woe,But, turning, trembles too.A Prayer for Indifference. MRS. F.M. GREVILLE.
Here the heartMay give a useful lesson to the head,And Learning wiser grow without his books.The Task: Winter Walk at Noon. W. COWPER.
My heartIs true as steel.A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
A heart bestowed on heaven alone.The Corsair. LORD BYRON.
If God hath made this world so fair,Where sin and death abound,How beautiful, beyond compare,Will Paradise be found!The Earth Full of God's Goodness. J. MONTGOMERY.
This world is all a fleeting show,For man's illusion given;The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,—There's nothing true but Heaven!Sacred Songs: The world is all a fleeting show. T. MOORE.
Beyond this vale of tearsThere is a life above,Unmeasured by the flight of years;And all that life is love.The Issues of Life and Death. J. MONTGOMERY.
No, no, I'm sure,My restless spirit never could endureTo brood so long upon one luxury,Unless it did, though fearfully, espyA hope beyond the shadow of a dreamEndymion, Bk. I. J. KEATS.
'Tis sweet, as year by year we loseFriends out of sight, in faith to museHow grows in Paradise our store.Burial of the Dead. J. KEBLE.
Nor can his blessèd soul look down from heaven,Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest.The Spanish Friar, Act v. Sc. 2. J. DRYDEN.
Just are the ways of Heaven; from Heaven proceedThe woes of man; Heaven doomed the Greeks to bleed.Odyssey, Bk. VIII. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
In man's most dark extremityOft succor dawns from Heaven.The Lord of the Isles, Canto I. SIR W. SCOTT.
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.To an Afflicted Protestant Lady. W. COWPER.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish—Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.Sacred Songs: Come, ye Disconsolate. T. MOORE.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here.Inferno, Canto III. DANTE.
Which way shall I fly,Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep,Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Long is the wayAnd hard, that out of hell leads up to light.Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
Nor from hellOne step no more than from himself can flyBy change of place.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
When all the world dissolves,And every creature shall be purified,All places shall be hell that are not heaven.Faustus. C. MARLOWE.
Heav'n forming each on other to depend,A master, or a servant, or a friend,Bids each on other for assistance call,Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Small service is true service while it lasts:Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one:The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun.In a Child's Album. W. WORDSWORTH.
What's gone and what's past helpShould be past grief.The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc.2. SHAKESPEARE.
Help thyself, and God will help thee.Jaculata Prudentum. G. HERBERT.
The hero is the world-man, in whose heartOne passion stands for all, the most indulged.Festus: Proem. P.J. BAILEY.
The hero is not fed on sweets,Daily his own heart he eats;Chambers of the great are jails,And head-winds right for royal sails.Essays: Heroism. R.W. EMERSON.
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.The Campaign. J. Addison.
See the conquering hero comes,Sound the trumpet, beat the drums.Orations of Joshua. T. MORELL.
The man that is not moved at what he reads,That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.Table Talk. W. COWPER.
Domestic happiness, thou only blissOf paradise that has survived the fall!The Task, Bk. III. W. COWPER.
The first sure symptom of a mind in healthIs rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home.Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
To make a happy fireside climeTo weans and wife,That's the true pathos and sublimeOf human life.Epistle to Dr. Blacklock. R. BURNS.
For the whole world, without a native home,Is nothing but a prison of larger room.To the Bishop of Lincoln. A. COWLEY.
His native home deep imaged in his soul.Odyssey, Bk. XIII. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;Home-keeping hearts are happiest,For those that wander they know not whereAre full of trouble and full of care;To stay at home is best.Song. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
His home, the spot of earth supremely blest,A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.West Indies, Pt. III. J. MONTGOMERY.
At Christmas play, and make good cheer,For Christmas comes but once a year.The Farmer's Daily Diet. T. TUSSER.
He kept no Christmas-house for once a year:Each day his boards were filled with lordly fare.A Maiden's Dream. R. GREENE.
Alike all ages: dames of ancient daysHave led their children through the mirthful maze;And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore,Has frisked beneath the burden of threescore.The Traveller. O. GOLDSMITH.
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,So let us welcome peaceful evening in.The Task: Winter Evening, Bk, IV. W. COWPER.
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings;Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Know then, whatever cheerful and sereneSupports the mind, supports the body too;Hence, the most vital movement mortals feelIs hope, the balm and lifeblood of the soul.Art of Preserving Health, Bk. IV. J. ARMSTRONG.
O welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!Comus. MILTON.
Hope! of all ills that men endure,The only cheap and universal cure!
* * * * *
Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness!Thou gentle dawning of a bright success!
* * * * *
Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and theeThe joys of Heaven and Earth divided be!For Hope. A. COWLEY.
Hope! thou nurse of young desire.Love in a Village, Act i. Sc. 1. L. BICKERSTAFF.
Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong,Man's heart at once inspirits and serenes;Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys.Night Thoughts, Night VII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,Adorns and cheers the way;And still, as darker grows the night,Emits a brighter ray.The Captivity, Actii. O. GOLDSMITH.
Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,But leave—oh! leave the light of Hope behind!The Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMPBELL.Hope springs eternal in the human breast:Man never is, but always to be, blest:The soul, uneasy and confined from home,Rests and expatiates in a life to come.Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
The wretch condemned with life to part,Still, still on hope relies;And every pang that rends the heartBids expectation rise.The Captivity, Act ii. O. GOLDSMITH.
The miserable have no other medicine,But only hope.Measure for Measure, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
To hope till hope createsFrom its own wreck the thing it contemplates.Prometheus. Act iv. P.B. SHELLEY.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,And vaulted with such ease into his seat,As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,And witch the world with noble horsemanship.King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
"Stand, Bayard, stand!" The steed obeyed,With arching neck and bended head,And glancing eye, and quivering ear,As if he loved his lord to hear.No foot Fitz-James in stirrup staid.No grasp upon the saddle laid,But wreathed his left hand in the mane,And lightly bounded from the plain,Turned on the horse his armèd heel,And stirred his courage with the steel.Bounded the fiery steed in air,The rider sate erect and fair,Then, like a bolt from steel cross-bow,Forth launched, along the plain they go.The Lady of the Lake, Canto V. SIR W. SCOTT.
After many strains and heaves,He got up to the saddle eaves,From whence he vaulted into the seatWith so much vigor, strength, and heat,That he had almost tumbled overWith his own weight, but did recover,By laying hold of tail and mane,Which oft he used instead of rein.Hudibras. S. BUTLER.
You must come home with me and be my guest;You will give joy to me, and I will doAll that is in my power to honor you.Hymn to Mercury, P.B. SHELLEY.
Sir, you are very welcome to our house:It must appear in other ways than words,Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
So saying, with despatchful looks in hasteShe turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
This night I hold an old accustomed feast,Whereto I have invited many a guest,Such as I love; and you among the store,One more, most welcome, makes my number more.Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The atmosphereBreathes rest and comfort and the many chambersSeem full of welcomes.Masque of Pandora. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.Comedy of Errors, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs,When seasoned by love, which no rancor disturbsAnd sweetened by all that is sweetest in lifeThan turbot, bisque, ortolans, eaten in strife!Lucile. LORD LYTTON (Owen Meredith).
Now good digestion wait on appetite,And health on both!Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
I've often wished that I had clear,For life, six hundred pounds a year,A handsome house to lodge a friend,A river at my garden's end.Imitation of Horace, Bk. II. Sat. 6. J. SWIFT.
True friendship's laws are by this rule exprest,Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.Odyssey, Bk. XV. HOMER.Trans. ofPOPE.
Humility, that low, sweet root,From which all heavenly virtues shoot.Loves of the Angels: The Third Angel's Story. T. MOORE.
Content thyself to be obscurely good.When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,The post of honor is a private station.Cato, Act iv. Sc. 4. J. ADDISON.
In a bondman's key,With 'bated breath, and whisp'ring humbleness.Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
It is the witness still of excellencyTo put a strange face on his own perfection.Much Ado About Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
God hath sworn to lift on highWho sinks himself by true humility.Miscellaneous Poems: At Hooker's Tomb. J. KEBLE.
Soon as Aurora drives away the night,And edges eastern clouds with rosy light,The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn,Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn.Rural Sports, Canto II. J. GAY.
Together let us beat this ample field,Try what the open, what the covert yield.Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
My hoarse-sounding hornInvites thee to the chase, the sport of kings;Image of war without its guilt.The Chase. W.C. SOMERVILLE.
Contusion hazarding of neck or spine,Which rural gentlemen call sport divine.Needless Alarm. W. COWPER.
My hawk is tired of perch and hood,My idle greyhound loathes his food,My horse is weary of his stall,And I am sick of captive thrall.I wish I were as I have beenHunting the hart in forests green,With bended bow and bloodhound free,For that's the life is meet for me!The Lady of the Lake: Lay of the Imprisoned Huntsman,Canto VI. SIR W. SCOTT.
Oh! what delight can a mortal lack,When he once is firm on his horse's back,With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,And the blast of the horn for his morning song!The Hunter's Song. B.W. PROCTER(Barry Cornwall).
See from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,And mounts exulting on triumphant wings;Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.Windsor Forest. A. POPE.
But as some muskets so contrive it,As oft to miss the mark they drive at,And though well aimed at duck or plover,Bear wide, and kick their owners over.McFingal, Canto I. J. TRUMBULL.
Oh, fora forty-parson powerto chantThy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymnLoud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt,Not practise!Don Juan, Canto X. LORD BYRON.
For neither man nor angel can discernHypocrisy, the only evil that walksInvisible, except to God alone,By his permissive will, through heaven and earth.Paradise Lost, Bk. III. MILTON.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show;False face must hide what the false heart doth know.Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.