O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrantCan tickle where she wounds!Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
She that asksHer dear five hundred friends, contemns them all,And hates their coming.The Task, Bk. II. W. COWPER.
He seemedFor dignity composed and high exploit:But all was false and hollow.Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
He was a manWho stole the livery of the court of HeavenTo serve the Devil in.Course of Time, Bk. VIIIR. POLLOK.
The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.An evil soul, producing holy witness,Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,A goodly apple rotten at the heart.O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
But then I sigh, and with a piece of ScriptureTell them that God bids us do good for evil:And thus I clothe my naked villanyWith odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ,And seem a saint when most I play the devil.King Richard III., Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
O villain, villain, smiling damnèd villain!My tables,—meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
That practised falsehood under saintly shew,Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge.Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Built God a church, and laughed his word to scorn.Retirement. W. COWPER.
And the devil did grin, for his darling sinIs pride that apes humility.The Devil's Thoughts. S.T. COLERIDGE.
O, what may man within him hide,Though angel on the outward side!Measure for Measure, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
'Tis too much proved—that with devotion's visageAnd pious action we do sugar o'erThe devil himself.Hamlet, Act iii, Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
I waive the quantum o' the sin,The hazard of concealing:But, och! it hardens a' within,And petrifies the feeling.Epistle to a Young Friend. R. BURNS.
'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again."The Sluggard. DR. I. WATTS.
Sloth views the towers of fame with envious eyes,Desirous still, still impotent to rise.The Judgment of Hercules. W. SHENSTONE.
Their only labor was to kill the time(And labor dire it is, and weary woe);They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme;Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go,Or saunter forth, with tottering step and slow:This soon too rude an exercise they find;Straight on the couch their limbs again they throw,Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclined,And court the vapory god, soft breathing in the wind.The Castle of Indolence, Canto I. J. THOMSON.
Leisure is pain; take off our chariot wheels,How heavily we drag the load of life!Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain,It makes us wander, wander earth aroundTo fly that tyrant, thought.Night Thoughts, Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.
To sigh, yet feel no pain,To weep, yet scarce know why;To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,Then throw it idly by.The Blue Stocking. T. MOORE.
The keenest pangs the wretched findAre rapture to the dreary void,The leafless desert of the mind,The waste of feelings unemployed.The Giaour. LORD BYRON.
A lazy lolling sort,Unseen at church, at senate, or at court,Of ever-listless idlers, that attendNo cause, no trust, no duty, and no friend.There too, my Paridell! she marked thee there,Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair,And heard thy everlasting yawn confessThe pains and penalties of idleness.The Dunciad, Bk. IV. A. POPE.
An idler is a watch that wants both hands;As useless if it goes as if it stands.Retirement. W. COWPER.
There is no remedy for time misspent;No healing for the waste of idleness,Whose very languor is a punishmentHeavier than active souls can feel or guess.Sonnet. SIR A. DE VERE.
For Satan finds some mischief stillFor idle hands to do.Song XX. DR. I. WATTS.
As man, perhaps, the moment of his breath,Receives the lurking principle of death,The young disease, that must subdue at length,Grows with his growth, and strengthens with his strength.Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Diseases desperate grownBy desperate appliance are relieved,Or not at all.Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
So when a raging fever burns,We shift from side to side by turns,And 'tis a poor relief we gainTo change the place, but keep the pain.Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Bk. II. Hymn 146. DR. I. WATTS.
Long pains are light ones,Cruel ones are brief!Compensation. J.G. SAXE.
Then with no throbs of fiery pain,No cold gradations of decay,Death broke at once the vital chain,And freed his soul the nearest way.Verses on Robert Levet. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Within the soul a faculty abides,That with interpositions, which would hideAnd darken, so can deal that they becomeContingencies of pomp; and serve to exaltHer native brightness. As the ample moon,In the deep stillness of a summer evenRising behind a thick and lofty grove,Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light,In the green trees; and, kindling on all sidesTheir leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veilInto a substance glorious as her own.The Excursion, Bk. IV. W. WORDSWORTH.
O for a muse of fire, that would ascendThe brightest heaven of invention!King Henry V., Chorus. SHAKESPEARE.
Hark, his hands the lyre explore!Bright eyed Fancy, hovering o'er,Scatters from her pictured urnThoughts that breathe and words that burn.Progress of Poesy. T. GRAY.
One of those passing rainbow dreamsHalf light, half shade, which Fancy's beamsPaint on the fleeting mists that roll,In trance or slumber, round the soul.Lalla Rookh. T. MOORE.
Of its own beauty is the mind diseased,And fevers into false creation:—where,Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized?In him alone. Can Nature show so fair?Where are the charms and virtues which we dareConceive in boyhood and pursue as men,The unreached Paradise of our despair,Which o'er-informs the pencil and the pen,And overpowers the page where it would bloom again?Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
We figure to ourselvesThe thing we like, and then we build it upAs chance will have it, on the rock or sand;For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world,And home-bound Fancy runs her bark ashore.Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I, Act i. Sc. 5. SIR H. TAYLOR.
HAMLET. My father,—methinks I see my father.HORATIO. Oh! where, my lord?HAMLET. In my mind's eye, Horatio.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawnIndicative that suns go down;The notice to the startled grassThat darkness is about to pass.Poems. E. DICKINSON.
To be no more—sad cure; for who would lose,Though full of pain, this intellectual being,Those thoughts that wander through eternity,To perish rather, swallowed up and lostIn the wide womb of uncreated night,Devoid of sense and motion?Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
Death is delightful. Death is dawn,The waking from a weary nightOf fevers unto truth and light.Even So. J. MILLER.
No, no! The energy of life may beKept on after the grave, but not begun;And he who flagged not in the earthly strife,From strength to strength advancing—only he,His soul well-knit, and all his battles won,Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life.Immortality. M. ARNOLD.
God keeps a nicheIn Heaven, to hold our idols; and albeitHe brake them to our faces, and deniedThat our close kisses should impair their white,—I know we shall behold them raised, complete,The dust swept from their beauty, glorified,New Memnons singing in the great God-light.Futurity with the Departed. E.B. BROWNING.
The wisest men are glad to die; no fearOf death can touch a true philosopher.Death sets the soul at liberty to fly.Continuation of Lucan. T. MAY.
Alas! for love, if thou art all,And naught beyond, O Earth!The Graves of a Household. MRS. F. HEMANS.
'Tis not the whole of life to live:Nor all of death to die.The Issues of Life and Death. J. MONTGOMERY.
Since heaven's eternal year is thine.Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew. J. DRYDEN.
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,And as the air blows it to me again,Obeying with my wind when I do blow,And yielding to another when it blows,Commanded always by the greater gust;Such is the lightness of you common men.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.Men were deceivers ever;One foot in sea and one on shore;To one thing constant never.Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
There is no music in a voiceThat is but one, and still the same;Inconstancy is but a nameTo fright poor lovers from a better choice.Shepherd's Holiday. J. RUTTER.
The fraud of men was ever soSince summer first was leafy.Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Love ne'er should die;…One object lost, another should succeed;And all our life be love.Pastorals. T. BROWN.
There are three things a wise man will not trust:The wind, the sunshine of an April day,And woman's plighted faith.Madoc. R. SOUTHEY.
Who trusts himself to woman or to wavesShould never hazard what he fears to lose.Governor of Cyprus. J. OLDMIXON.
Away, away—you're all the same,A flattering, smiling, jilting throng!O, by my soul, I burn with shame,To think I've been your slave so long!Song. T. MOORE.
Frailty, thy name is woman!Hamlet, Acti.Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
HAMLET.—Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
OPHELIA.—'Tis brief, my lord.
HAMLET.—As woman's love.Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Framed to make women false.Othello, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
To beguile many, and be beguiled by one.Othello, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEAKE.
Or ere those shoes were oldWith which she followed my poor father's body,Like Niobe, all tears;—why she, even she(O God! a beast that wants discourse of reasonWould have mourned longer) married with my uncle,My father's brother.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Trust not a man: we are by nature false,Dissembling, subtle, cruel and inconstant;When a man talks of love, with caution hear him;But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee.The Orphan. T. OTWAY.
Nay, women are frail too;Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;Which are as easy broke as they make forms.Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
In part to blame is she,Which hath without consent bin only tride:He comes too neere that comes to be denide.A Wife. SIR T. OVERBURY.
The heart!—Yes, I wore itAs sign and as tokenOf a love that once gave it,A vow that was spoken;But a love, and a vow, and a heart,Can be broken.Hearts. A.A. PROCTER.
A love that took an early root,And had an early doom.The Devil's Progress. T.K. HERVEY.
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,So the remembrance of my former loveIs by a newer object quite forgotten.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
All love may be expelled by other love,As poisons are by poisons.All for Love. J. DRYDEN.
At lovers' perjuries,They say, Jove laughs.Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Fool, not to know that love endures no tie,And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury.Palamon and Arcite, Bk. II. J. DRYDEN.
They that do change old love for new,Pray gods, they change for worse!The Arraignment of Paris: Cupid's Curse. G. PEELE.
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,That monthly changes in her circled orb,Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
To be once in doubt,Is once to be resolved.Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
I hate ingratitude more in a man,Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,Or any taint of vice.Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
He that's ungrateful, has no guilt but one;All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.Busiris. DR. E. YOUNG.
Ah, how unjust to Nature and himselfIs thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man!Night Thoughts, Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it isTo have a thankless child!King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn?Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Now musing o'er the changing sceneFarmers behind the tavern screenCollect; with elbows idly pressedOn hob, reclines the corner's guest,Reading the news to mark againThe bankrupt lists or price of grain.Puffing the while his red-tipt pipeHe dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe,Yet, winter's leisure to regale,Hopes better times, and sips his ale.The Shepherd's Calendar. J. CLARE.
Souls of poets dead and gone,What Elysium have ye known,Happy field or mossy cavern,Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?Lines on the Mermaid Tavern. J. KEATS.
Now spurs the lated traveller apaceTo gain the timely inn.Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round,Where'er his stages may have been,May sigh to think he still has foundThe warmest welcome at an inn.Written on a Window of an Inn. W. SHENSTONE.
Hence, bashful cunning!And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
O, white innocence,That thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hideThine awful and serenest countenanceFrom those who know thee not!The Cenci, Act v. Sc. 3. P.B. SHELLEY.
I never tempted her with word too large;But, as a brother to his sister, showedBashful sincerity, and comely love.Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
And dallies with the innocence of love.Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free;Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms;Inflexible in faith; invincible in arms.The Minstrel, Bk. I. J. BEATTIE.
True, conscious honor is to feel no sin;He's armed without that's innocent within.Imitation of Horace, Epistle 1. Bk. I. A. POPE.
My banks they are furnished with bees,Whose murmur invites one to sleep.A Pastoral Ballad, Pt. II. W. SHENSTONE.
Here their delicious task the fervent beesIn swarming millions tend: around, athwart,Through the soft air, the busy nations fly,Cling to the bud, and with inserted tube,Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul;And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dareThe purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows,And yellow load them with the luscious spoil.The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
Inebriate of air am I,And debauchee of dew,Reeling, through endless summer days,From inns of molten blue.Poems. E. DICKINSON.
O'er folded bloomsOn swirls of musk,The beetle booms adown the gloomsAnd bumps along the dusk.The Beetle. J.W. RILEY.
I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,Where roses and lilies and violets meet.I'd be a Butterfly. T.H. BAYLY.
Rose suddenly a swarm of butterflies,On wings of white and gold and azure fire;And one said: "These are flowers that seek the skies,Loosed by the spell of their supreme desire."Butterflies. C.G.D. ROBERTS.
So, naturalists observe, a fleaHas smaller fleas that on him prey;And these have smaller still to bite 'em;And so proceedad infinitum.Poetry: a Rhapsody. J. SWIFT.
I saw a flie within a beadeOf amber cleanly buried.On a Fly buried in Amber. R. HERRICK.
Oh! that the memories which survive us hereWere half so lovely as these wings of thine!Pure relics of a blameless life, that shineNow thou art gone.On Finding a Fly Crushed in a Book. C.T. TURNER.
When evening closes Nature's eye,The glow-worm lights her little sparkTo captivate her favorite flyAnd tempt the rover through the dark.The Glow-worm. J. MONTGOMERY.
Ye living lamps, by whose dear lightThe nightingale does sit so late;And studying all the summer night,Her matchless songs does meditate.The Mower to the Glow-worm. A. MARVEL.
Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-treeover the well.Leaves of Grass, Pt. XXXVIII. W. WHITMAN.
What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes,Thy one brief parting pang may show:And withering thoughts for soul that dashes,From deep to deep, are but a death more slow.Tragedy of the Night-Moth. T. CARLYLE.
The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
Much like a subtle spider, which doth sitIn middle of her web, which spreadeth wide:If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,She feels it instantly on every side.Immortality of the Soul: Feeling. SIR J. DAVIES.
'Tis education forms the common mind:Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.
Men must be taught as if you taught them not,And things unknown proposed as things forgot.Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.
Most wretched menAre cradled into poetry by wrong;They learn in suffering what they teach in song.Julian and Maddalo. P.B. SHELLEY.
Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam! afarDrag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car;Or on wide waving wings expanded bearThe flying-chariot through the field of air.The Botanic Garden, Pt. 1. Ch. I. [1781]. E. DARWIN.
Electric telegraphs, printing, gas,Tobacco, balloons, and steam,Are little events that have come to passSince the days of the oldrégime.And, spite of Lemprière's dazzling page,I'd give—though it might seem bold—A hundred years of the Golden AgeFor a year of the Age of Gold.The Two Ages. H.S. LEIGH.
What cannot art and industry perform,When science plans the progress of their toil!The Minstrel. J. BEATTIE.
For out of the old fieldès, as men saithe,Cometh al this new corne fro yere to yere,And out of old bookès, in good faithe,Cometh al this new science that men lere.The Assembly of Foules. CHAUCER.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;It is the green-eyed monster which doth mockThe meat it feeds on….But, O, what damnèd minutes tells he o'erWho dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Trifle, light as air,Are to the jealous confirmations strongAs proofs of holy writ.Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives:What phrenzy dictates, jealousy believes.Diome. J. GAY.
Nor jealousyWas understood, the injured lover's hell.Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defendFrom jealousy!Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
O jealousy,Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venomPreys on my vitals, turns the healthful hueOf my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness,And drinks my spirit up!David and Goliath. H. MORE.
If I shall be condemnedUpon surmises, all proofs sleeping elseBut what your jealousies awake, I tell you,'Tis rigor, and not law.Winter's Tale, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,As, I confess, it is my nature's plagueTo spy into abuses, and oft my jealousyShapes faults that are not.Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
But through the heartShould Jealousy its venom once diffuse,'Tis then delightful misery no more,But agony unmixed, incessant gall,Corroding every thought, and blasting allLove's paradise.The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning!Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid.Epiphany. BISHOP R. HEBER.
He was the Word, that spake it;He took the bread and brake it;And what that Word did make it,I do believe and take it.Divine Poems: On the Sacrament. DR. J. DONNE.
And so the Word had breath, and wroughtWith human hands the creed of creedsIn loveliness of perfect deeds,More strong than all poetic thought.In Memoriam, XXXVI. A. TENNYSON.Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comesWherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,The bird of dawning singeth all night long:And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad;The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,So hallowed and so gracious is the time,Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
In those holy fields,Over whose acres walked those blessèd feetWhich fourteen hundred years ago were nailed,For our advantage, on the bitter cross.Henry IV., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Lovely was the deathOf Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamedManifest Godhead.Religious Musings. S.T. COLERIDGE.
But chiefly ThouWhom soft-eyed Pity once led down from HeavenTo bleed for man, to teach him how to live,And, oh! still harder lesson! how to die.Death. B. PORTEUS.
One there is above all others,Well deserves the name of Friend!His is love beyond a brother's,Costly, free, and knows no end:They who once his kindness prove,Find it everlasting love!A Friend that Sticketh Closer than a Brother. J. NEWTON.
'Tis done, the great transaction's done;I am my Lord's, and he is mine;He drew me, and I followed on,Charmed to confess the voice divine.
Now rest, my long-divided heart!Fixed on this blissful centre, rest;Oh, who with earth would grudge to part,When called with angels to be blest?Happy Day. P. DODDRIDGE.
Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord,What may thy service be?—Nor name, nor town, nor ritual word,But simply following thee.
We bring no ghastly holocaust,We pile no graven stone;He serves thee best who loveth mostHis brothers and thy own.Our Master. J.G. WHITTIER.
These gems have life in them: their colors speak,Say what words fail of.The Spanish Gypsy. GEORGE ELIOT.
If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell,And may be found too in an oyster shell.Apology for his Book. J. BUNYAN.
Some asked how pearls did grow, and where,Then spoke I to my girle,To part her lips, and showed them thereThe quarelets of pearl.The Rock of Rubies and the Quarrie of Pearl. R. HERRICK.
The lively Diamond drinks thy purest rays,Collected light, compact.The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
Like stones of worth, they thinly placèd are,Or captain jewels in the carcanet.Sonnet III. SHAKESPEARE.
Than all Bocara's vaunted gold,Than all the gems of Samarcand.A Persian Song of Hafiz. SIR W. JONES.
Rich and rare were the gems she wore,And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.Song: Rich and Rare. T. MOORE.
I see the jewel best enamelledWill lose his beauty; and the gold 'bides still,That others touch, and often touching willWear gold.Comedy of Errors, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
He comes, the herald of a noisy world,With spattered boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks;News from all nations lumbering at his back.The Task, Bk. IV. W. COWPER.
Trade hardly deems the busy day begunTill his keen eye along the sheet has run;The blooming daughter throws her needle by,And reads her schoolmate's marriage with a sigh;While the grave mother puts her glasses on,And gives a tear to some old crony gone.The preacher, too, his Sunday theme lays down,To know what last new folly fills the town;Lively or sad, life's meanest, mightiest things,The fate of fighting cocks, or fighting kings.Curiosity. C. SPRAGUE.
For evil news rides fast, while good news baits.Samson Agonistes. MILTON.
If there's a hole in a' your coats,I rede ye tent it:A chiel's amang ye takin' notes,And, faith, he'll prent it.On Capt. Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland.R. BURNS.
A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon,A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon.Condemned to drudge, the meanest of the mean,And furbish falsehoods for a magazine.English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.
To serve thy generation, this thy fate:"Written in water," swiftly fades thy name;But he who loves his kind does, first and late,A work too great for fame.The Journalist. MRS. M. CLEMMER A. HUDSON.
This folio of four pages, happy work!Which not e'en critics criticise; that holdsInquisitive attention while I read,
* * * * *
What is it but a map of busy life,Its fluctuations and its vast concerns?'Tis pleasant, through the loop-holes of retreat,To peep at such a world,—to see the stirOf the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
* * * * *
While fancy, like the finger of a clock.Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.Winter Evening: The Task, Bk. IV. W. COWPER.
Here shall the Press the People's right maintain,Unawed by influence and unbribed by gain;Here Patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw,Pledged to Religion, Liberty, and Law.Motto of Salem (Mass.) Register. J. STORY.
What though my wingèd hours of bliss have been,Like angel-visits, few and far between.Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMBPELL
How fading are the joys we dote upon!Like apparitions seen and gone;But those which soonest take their flightAre the most exquisite and strong;Like angels' visits, short and bright,Mortality's too weak to bear them long.The Parting. J. NORRIS.
And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.Festus, Sc. A Village Feast. P.J. BAILEY.
Joys too exquisite to last,And yet more exquisite when past.The Little Cloud. J. MONTGOMERY.
The joy late coming late departs.Some Sweet Day. L.J. BATES.
There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.Song: There's Not a Joy. LORD BYRON.
Base Envy withers at another's joy,And hates that excellence it cannot reach.The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;Within whose circuit is ElysiumAnd all that poets feign of bliss and joy.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy.The Course of Time, Bk. I. R. POLLOK.
O stay!—O stay!—Joy so seldom weaves a chainLike this to-night, that, oh! 'tis painTo break its links so soon.Fly Not Yet. T. MOORE.
What is a kiss? Alacke! at worst,A single Dropp to quenche a Thirst,Tho' oft it prooves, in happie Hour,The first swete Dropp of our long Showre.In the Old Time. C.G. LELAND.
I was betrothed that day;I wore a troth kiss on my lips I could not give away.The Lay of the Brown Rosary, Pt. II. E.B. BROWNING.
The kiss you take is paid by that you give:The joy is mutual, and I'm still in debt.Heroic Love, Act v. Sc. 1.LORD LANDSDOWNE.
Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score;Then to that twenty adde a hundred more;A thousand to that hundred; so kisse on,To make that thousand up a million;Treble that million, and when that is done,Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun.Hesperides to Anthea. R. HERRICK.
Blush, happy maiden, when you feelThe lips which press love's glowing seal;But as the slow years darklier roll,Grown wiser, the experienced soulWill own as dearer far than theyThe lips which kiss the tears away.Kisses. E. AKERS.
Teach not thy lips such scorn: for they were madeFor kissing, lady, not for such contempt,Richard III., Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
My lips till then had only knownThe kiss of mother and of sister,But somehow, full upon her ownSweet, rosy, darling mouth,—I kissed her.The Door-Step. E.C. STEDMAN.
As in the soft and sweet eclipse.When soul meets soul on lover's lips.Prometheus Unbound, Activ. P.B. SHELLEY.
O Love! O fire! once he drewWith one long kiss my whole soul throughMy lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.Fatima. A. TENNYSON.
A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth and love.Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.—Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!—Faustus. C. MARLOWE.
I love the sex, and sometimes would reverseThe tyrant's wish, "that mankind only hadOne neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce;"My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad,And much more tender on the whole than fierce;It being (notnow, but only while a lad)That womankind had but one rosy mouth,To kiss them all at once, from North to South.Don Juan, Canto VI. LORD BYRON.
Or ere I couldGive him that parting kiss, which I had setBetwixt two charming words, comes in my fatherAnd like the tyrannous breathing of the northShakes all our buds from growing.Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Eyes, look your last:Arms, take your last embrace; and lips,O! you,The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kissA dateless bargain to engrossing death.Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much;Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.The Task, Bk. VI. W. COWPER.
All things I thought I knew; but now confessThe more I know I know, I know the less.Works, Bk. VI. J. OWEN.
In vain sedate reflections we would makeWhen half our knowledge we must snatch, not take.Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.
No man is born into the world whose workIs not born with him.A Glance Behind the Curtain. J.R. LOWELL.
If little labor, little are our gaines:Man's fortunes are according to his paines.Hesperides: No Paines, No Gaines. R. HERRICK.
Who first invented work, and bound the freeAnd holiday-rejoicing spirit down
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To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?
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Sabbathless Satan!Work. C. LAMB.
It was not by vile loitering in easeThat Greece obtained the brighter palm of art,That soft yet ardent Athens learnt to please,To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart,In all supreme! complete in every part!It was not thence majestic Rome arose,And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart:For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows;Renown is not the child of indolent repose.* * * * *Toil, and be glad! let Industry inspireInto your quickened limbs her buoyant breath!Who does not act is dead; absorpt entireIn miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath:O leaden-hearted men to be in love with death!The Castle of Indolence, Canto II. J. THOMSON.
My nature is subduedTo what it works in, like the dyer's hand.Sonnet CXI. SHAKESPEARE.
Mechanic slavesWith greasy aprons, rules, and hammers.Antony and Cleopatra, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
How many a rustic Milton has passed by,Stifling the speechless longings of his heart,In unremitting drudgery and care!How many a vulgar Cato has compelledHis energies, no longer tameless then,To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail!Queen Mab, Pt. V. P.B. SHELLEY.
If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work.King Henry, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you,But yet, 'tis one.
MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain.Macbeth. Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Cheered with the view, man went to till the groundFrom, whence he rose; sentenced indeed to toil,As to a punishment, yet (even in wrath,So merciful is heaven) this toil becameThe solace of his woes, the sweet employOf many a livelong hour, and surest guardAgainst disease and death.Death. B. PORTEUS.
Like a lackey, from the rise to set,Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all nightSleeps in Elysium; next day after dawnDoth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,And follows so the ever-running yearWith profitable labor to his grave.And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,Hath the forehand and vantage of a king.King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
When Adam dolve, and Eve span,Who was then the gentleman? [A]J. BALL.
[Footnote A: Lines used by John Ball, to encourage the rebels in WatTyler's rebellion. Hume'sHistory of England, Vol. i.]
Joy to the Toiler!—him that tillsThe fields with Plenty crowned;Him with the woodman's axe that thrillsThe wilderness profound.Songs of the Toiler. B. HATHAWAY.
In the corrupted currents of this worldOffence's gilded hand may shove by justice,And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itselfBuys out the law: but 'tis not so above;There is no shuffling, there the action liesIn his true nature; and we ourselves compelled,Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,To give in evidence.Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue:His faults lie open to the laws; let them,Not you, correct him.Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Still you keep o' the windy side of the law.Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,Between two horses, which doth bear him best.Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgment;But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Mastering the lawless science of our law,That codeless myriad of precedent,That wilderness of single instances.Aylmer's Field. A. TENNYSON.
The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,And wretches hang, that jurymen may dine.Rape of the Lock, Canto III. A. POPE.
In law, what plea so tainted and corruptBut, being seasoned with a gracious voice,Obscures the show of evil?Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
So wise, so grave, of so perplexed a tongueAnd loud withal, that could not wag, nor scarceLie still, without a fee.Valpone. B. JONSON.
While lawyers have more sober senseThan t' argue at their own expense,But make their best advantagesOf others' quarrels, like the Swiss.Hudibras. BUTLER.
All, all look up with reverential awe,At crimes that 'scape, or triumph o'er the law.Epilogue to Satire, Dialogue I. A. POPE.
Once (says an Author; where, I need not say)Two Trav'lers found an Oyster in their way:Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong,While Scale in hand Dame Justice passed along.Before her each with clamor pleads the Laws.Explained the matter, and would win the cause,Dame Justice weighing long the doubtful Right,Takes, opens, swallows it, before their sight.The cause of strife removed so rarely well,"There take" (says Justice), "take ye each a shell.We thrive at Westminster on Fools like you:'Twas a fat oyster—live in peace—Adieu."Verbatim from Boileau. A. POPE.We must not make a scarecrow of the law,Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,And let it keep one shape, till custom make itTheir perch and not their terror.Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
No man e'er felt the halter draw,With good opinion of the law.McFingal, Canto III. J. TRUMBULL.
Who to himself is law, no law doth need,Offends no law, and is a king indeed.Bussy D'Ambois, Act ii. Sc 1. G. CHAPMAN.
A little learning is a dangerous thing;Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,And drinking largely sobers us again.Essay on Criticism, Pt. II. A. POPE.
When night hath set her silver lamp on high,Then is the time for study.Festus, Sc. A Village Feast. P.J. BAILEY.
BIRON.—What is the end of Study? let me know.KING.—Why, that to know, which else we should not know.BIRON.—Things hid and barred, you mean, from common sense?KING.—Ay, that is study's godlike recompense.Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;In brief, sir, study what you most affect.Taming of the Shrew, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Some, for renown, on scraps of learning dote,And think they grow immortal as they quote.Love of Fame, Satire I. DR. E. YOUNG.
With just enough of learning to misquote.English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.
Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toilO'er books consumed the midnight oil?Fables: The Shepherd and the Philosopher. J. GAY.
And thou art worthy; full of power;As gentle; liberal-minded, great,Consistent; wearing all that weightOf learning lightly like a flower.In Memoriam: Conclusion. A. TENNYSON.
Small have continual plodders ever won,Save base authority from others' books.These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights,That give a name to every fixed star,Have no more profit of their shining nightsThan those that walk, and wot not what they are.Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies,And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise.The Wife of Bath: Her Prologue.A. POPE.
Here the heartMay give a useful lesson to the head,And learning wiser grow without his books.The Task, Bk. VI. Winter Walk at Noon. W. COWPER.
Learning by study must be won;'Twas ne'er entailed from son to son.The Pack Horse and Carrier. J. GAY.
Much learning shows how little mortals know;Much wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy.Night Thoughts, Night VI. DR. E. YOUNG.
Were man to live coeval with the sun.The patriarch-pupil would be learning still.Night Thoughts, Night VII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Kind messages, that pass from land to land;Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history,In which we feel the pressure of a hand,—One touch of fire,—and all the rest is mystery!The Seaside and the Fireside: Dedication. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Every day brings a ship,Every ship brings a word:Well for those who have no fear,Looking seaward well assuredThat the word the vessel bringsIs the word they wish to hear.Letters. R.W. EMERSON.
And oft the pangs of absence to removeBy letters, soft interpreters of love.Henry and Emma. M. PRIOR.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st wordsThat ever blotted paper!Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
I will touchMy mouth unto the leaves, caressingly;And so wilt thou. Thus from these lips of mineMy message will go kissingly to thine.With more than Fancy's load of luxury,And prove a true love-letter.Sonnet (With a Letter). J.G. SAXE.
Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Go, little letter, apace, apace,Fly;Fly to the light in the valley below—Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye.The Letter. A. TENNYSON.
Let observation, with extensive view,Survey mankind from China to Peru;Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife,And watch the busy scenes of crowded life.The Vanity of Human Wishes. DR. S. JOHNSON.
It matters not how long we live, but how.Festus, Sc. Wood and Water. P.J. BAILEY.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'stLive well; how long or short permit to heaven.Paradise Lost, Bk, XI. MILTON.
All is concentred in a life intense,Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,But hath a part of being.Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
Life for delays and doubts no time does give,None ever yet made haste enough to live.Martial, Liber II. A. COWLEY.
Learn to live well, that thou may'st die so too;To live and die is all we have to do.Of Prudence. SIR J. DENHAM.
"Live, while you live," the epicure would say,"And seize the pleasures of the present day;""Live while you live," the sacred preacher cries,"And give to God each moment as it flies.""Lord, in my views let both united be;I live inpleasure, when I live toThee.""Dum vivimus vivamus." (Motto of his Family Arms.)P. DODDRIDGE.
A man's ingress into the world is naked and bare,His progress through the world is trouble and care;And lastly, his egress out of the world, is nobody knows where.If we do well here, we shall do well there;I can tell you no more if I preach a whole year.Eccentricities, Vol. I. J. EDWIN.
A little rule, a little sway,A sunbeam in a winter's day,Is all the proud and mighty haveBetween the cradle and the grave.Grongar Hill. J. DYER.
So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou dropInto thy mother's lapParadise Lost, Bk. XI. MILTON.
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!To all the sensual world proclaim,One crowded hour of glorious lifeIs worth an age without a name.Old Mortality: Chapter Head. SIR W. SCOTT.
Let us (since life can little more supplyThan just to look about us, and to die)Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man;A mighty maze! but not without a plan.Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
The world's a theatre, the earth a stageWhich God and nature do with actors fill.Apology for Actors. T. HEYWOOD.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life is but a walking shadow; a poor player.That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more: it is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5SHAKESPEARE.
The web of our life is of a mingledYarn, good and ill together.All's Well that Ends Well, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
And what's a life?—a weary pilgrimage,Whose glory in one day doth fill the stageWith childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.What is Life? P. QUARLES.
An elegant sufficiency, content,Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books,Ease and alternate labor, useful life,Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail,Reason the card, but passion is the gale.Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.
I cannot tell what you and other menThink of this life; but, for my single self,I had as lief not be as live to beIn awe of such a thing as I myself.Julius Cæsar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Why, what should be the fear?I do not set my life at a pin's fee.Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
"Life is not lost," said she, "for which is boughtEndlesse renowne."Faërie Queene, Bk. III. Canto XI. E. SPENSER.
Our life is scarce the twinkle of a starIn God's eternal day.Autumnal Vespers. B. TAYLOR.
There taught us how to live; and (oh, too highThe price for knowledge!) taught us how to die.On the Death of Addison. T. TICKELL.
Our life contains a thousand springs,And dies if one be gone.Strange! that a harp of thousand stringsShould keep in tune so long.Hymns and Spiritual Songs. DR. I. WATTS.
For it so falls outThat what we have we prize not to the worth,Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost,Why, then we rack the value, then we findThe virtue that possession would not show usWhiles it was ours.Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
But over all things brooding sleptThe quiet sense of something lost.In Memoriam, LXXVIII. A. TENNYSON.
Praising what is lostMakes the remembrance dear.All's Well that Ends Well, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Though lost to sight, to memory dearThou ever wilt remain;One only hope my heart can cheer,The hope to meet again.Song: Though Lost to Sight. G. LINLEY.
You take my house when you do take the propThat doth sustain my house; you take my lifeWhen you do take the means whereby I live.Merchant of Venice, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
The loss of wealth is loss of dirt,As sages in all times assert;The happy man's without a shirt.Be Merry, Friends. J. HEYWOOD.
For 'tis a truth well known to most,That whatsoever thing is lost.We seek it, ere it come to light,In every cranny but the right.The Retired Cat. W. COWPER.
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss.But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
What thing is love?—for (well I wot) love is a thingIt is a prick, it is a sting,It is a pretty, pretty thing;It is a fire, it is a coal,Whose flame creeps in at every hole!The Hunting of Cupid. G. PEELE.
O, love, love, love!Love is like a dizziness;It winna let a poor bodyGang about his biziness!Love is Like a Dizziness. J. HOGG.
With a smile that glowedCelestial rosy red; love's proper hue.Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
Love, like death,Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crookBeside the sceptre.Lady of Lyons. E. BULWER-LYTTON.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow,As seek to quench the fire of love with words.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie.With heart never changing, and brow never cold.Love on through all ills, and love on till they die!One hour of a passion so sacred is worthWhole ages of heartless and wandering bliss;And O, if there be an Elysium on earth,It is this, it is this.Lalla Rookh: Light of the Harem. T. MOORE.
Love is the tyrant of the heart; it darkensReason, confounds discretion; deaf to counselIt runs a headlong course to desperate madness.The Lover's Melancholy, Act iii. Sc. 3. J. FORD.
Ask not of me. Love, what is love?Ask what is good of God above;Ask of the great sun what is light;Ask what is darkness of the night;Ask sin of what may be forgiven;Ask what is happiness of heaven;Ask what is folly of the crowd;Ask what is fashion of the shroud;Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss;Ask of thyself what beauty is.Festus, Sc. Party and Entertainment. P.J. BAILEY.
All love is sweet,Given or returned. Common as light is love,And its familiar voice wearies not ever.Prometheus Unbound, Act ii. Sc. 5. P.B. SHELLEY.
Love is a celestial harmonyOf likely hearts.Hymn in Honor of Beauty. E. SPENSER.
There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned.Antony and Cleopatra, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought,Love gives itself, but is not bought.Endymion. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
It is not virtue, wisdom, valor, wit,Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest meritThat woman's love can win, or long inherit.But what it is, hard is to say,Harder to hit.Samson Agonistes. MILTON.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.
Why did she love him? Curious fool!—be still—Is human love the growth of human will?Lara, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
I know not whyI love this youth; and I have heard you say,Love's reason's without reason.Cymbeline, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Love goes toward love as school-boys from their books,But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Divine is Love and scorneth worldly pelf,And can be bought with nothing but with self.Love the Only Price of Love. SIR W. RALEIGH.
Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.Merry Wives of Windsor, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Love, whose month is ever May,Spied a blossom passing fairPlaying in the wanton air:Through the velvet leaves the wind,All unseen can passage find;That the lover, sick to death.Wish himself the heaven's breath.Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Affection is a coal that must be cooled;Else, suffered, it will set the heart on fire.Venus and Adonis. SHAKESPEARE.
In all amours a lover burns.With frowns, as well as smiles, by turns;And hearts have been as oft with sullen,As charming looks, surprised and stolen.Hudibras, Pt. III. Canto I. S. BUTLER.
Mysterious love, uncertain treasure,Hast thou more of pain or pleasure!
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Endless torments dwell about thee:Yet who would live, and live without thee!Rosamond, Act iii. Sc. 2. J. ADDISON.
If there's delight in love, 'tis when I seeThe heart, which others bleed-for, bleed for me.Way of the World, Act iii Sc. 3. W. CONGREVE.
Give, you gods,Give to your boy, your Cæsar,The rattle of a globe to play withal,This gewgaw world, and put him cheaply off;I'll not be pleased with less than Cleopatra.All for Love, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.
Much ado there was, God wot;He woold love, and she woold not,She sayd, "Never man was trewe;"He sayes, "None was false to you."Phillida and Corydon. N. BRETON.