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Title: Handy Dictionary of Poetical Quotations
Author: Various
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Handy Dictionary of Poetical Quotations" ***

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[Illustration: Henry W. Longfellow.]







It has been the aim of the compiler of this little book to present a
Dictionary of Poetical Quotations which will be a ready reference to
many of the most familiar stanzas and lines of the chief poets of the
English language, with a few selections from Continental writers; and
also some less familiar selections from more modern poets, which may in
time become classic, or which at least have a contemporary interest.
Readers of English literature are aware that the few great poets of our
language have struck perhaps every chord of human sentiment capable of
illustration in verse, and even these few have borrowed the ideas, and
sometimes almost the exact words, of predecessors or contemporaries.

But often old ideas in a new dress are welcome to readers who might not
have been attracted by the old forms; and each generation has its
peculiar modes of expression if not its new lines of thought. It is
hoped that this mingling of the old and the new will not be without
interest. To carry out the plan of making this a "handy" dictionary of
quotations and, at the same time, as comprehensive as the space
permitted, it has been necessary to confine the illustration of the
topics selected to brief extracts from each author. Of course, in all
books of quotations the great name of Shakespeare fills the largest
space; and the compiler of this book, as well as all students of
Shakespeare, is under obligation to the painstaking compilers of the
concordances to this poet, and especially to Mr. Bartlett's monumental
work. To many other compilers of quotations, especially to the _Poetical
Quotations_ Anna L. Ward (published by Messrs. T.Y. Crowell & Co.),
the author is under obligations; while he has made an independent
examination of the more recent poets, as well as many of the older ones.
The topics illustrated number 2138, selected from the writings of 255
authors. The indexes, which will be found full and complete, were
assistance in preparing the copy for the press and in reading the


July, 1901.


       *       *       *       *       *



              Abash'd the devil stood,
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how lovely.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 846.


To happy convents bosom'd deep in vines,
Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.
POPE: _Dunciad,_ Bk. iv., Line 301.


I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duteous oaths.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found;
Among the faithless, faithful only he.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. v., Line 896.


         I profess not talking; only this,
Let each man do his best.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


What! keep a week away! Seven days and nights?
Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
More tedious than the dial eight score times?
O weary reckoning!
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Though lost to sight, to memory dear
Thou ever wilt remain.
GEORGE LINLEY: _Song, Though Lost to Sight._

Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more.
POPE: _Eloisa to A.,_ Line 361.

O last love! O first love!
My love with the true heart,
To think I have come to this your home,
And yet--we are apart!
JEAN INGELOW: _Sailing Beyond Seas._

'Tis said that absence conquers love;
  But oh believe it not!
I've tried, alas! its power to prove,
  But thou art not forgot.
FREDERICK W. THOMAS: _Absence Conquers Love._


Against diseases here the strongest fence
Is the defensive virtue abstinence.
HERRICK: _Aph. Abstinence._


Thou thread, thou thimble,
Thou yard, three quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou:
Away thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant.
SHAKS.: _Tam. of the S.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


As the unthought-on accident is guilty
Of what we wildly do, so we profess
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Our wanton accidents take root, and grow
To vaunt themselves God's laws.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saints' Tragedy,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

By many a happy accident.
MIDDLETON: _No Wit, No Help, Like a Woman's,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


Accuse not Nature: she hath done her part;
Do thou but thine.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. viii., Line 561.


Great things thro' greatest hazards are achiev'd,
And then they shine.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Loyal Subject,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
  And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
  And days o' lang syne?
BURNS: _Auld Lang Syne._


Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

Of every noble action, the intent
Is to give worth reward--vice punishment.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Captain,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
JAMES SHIRLEY: _Death's Final Conquest,_ Sc. iii.

Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws
  Makes that and th' action fine.
HERBERT: _The Elixir._


If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 7.

Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.


            A strutting player,--whose conceit
Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
'Twixt his stretched footing and the scaffoldage.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

The world's a theatre, the earth a stage
Which God and Nature do with actors fill.
THOMAS HEYWOOD: _Apology for Actors._


All things are ready, if our minds be so.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


And the tear that is wiped with a little address
  May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.
COWPER: _The Rose._


Adieu, adieu! my native shore
  Fades o'er the waters blue.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 13.

Adieu, she cried, and waved her lily hand.
GAY: _Sweet William's Farewell to Black-eyed Susan._


Season your admiration for a while.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc 2.


The holy time is quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration.
WORDSWORTH: _It is a Beauteous Evening._


Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 232.

Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Autumn,_ Line 204.


Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;
But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

I am not now in fortune's power:
He that is down can fall no lower.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto iii., Line 877.

For of fortunes sharpe adversite,
The worst kind of infortune is this,--
A man that hath been is prosperite,
And it remember whan it passed is.
CHAUCER: _Troilus and Creseide,_ Bk. iii., Line 1625.


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

Know when to speak--for many times it brings
Danger, to give the best advice to kings.
HERRICK: _Aph. Caution in Council._

The worst men often give the best advice.
BAILEY _Festus,_ Sc. _A Village Feast._

'Twas good advice, and meant, my son, Be good.
CRABBE: _The Learned Boy._


There affectation, with a sickly mien,
Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen;
Practis'd to lisp, and hang the head aside;
Faints into airs, and languishes with pride;
On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe,
Wrapt in a gown, for sickness, and for show.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iv., Line 31.


                  Why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Affection is a coal that must be cool'd,
Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire.
SHAKS.: _Venus and A.,_ Line 387.


Affliction is the good man's shining scene;
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray;
As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night ix., Line 406.

Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced
That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction.
JOHN BROWN: _Barbarossa,_ Act v., Sc. 3.


Young men soon give and soon forget affronts;
Old age is slow in both.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act ii., Sc. 5.


When the age is in, the wit is out.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act iii., Sc. 5

              His silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds;
It shall be said,--his judgment rul'd our hands.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Manhood, when verging into age, grows thoughtful.
CAPEL LOFFT'S _Aphorisms. Published in_ 1812.

I am declin'd into the vale of years.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety; other women
Cloy th' appetites they feed; but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

An old man, broken with the storms of State,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

We see time's furrows on another's brow...
How few themselves in that just mirror see!
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 627.

O, sir! I must not tell my age.
They say women and music should never be dated.
GOLDSMITH: _She Stoops to Con.,_ Act iii.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 98.

Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.
BEATTIE: _The Minstrel,_ Bk. i., St. 25.

But an old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,
  Shall lead thee to thy grave.
WORDSWORTH: _To a Young Lady._


A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry
Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto ii., St. 53.


Could we forbear dispute and practise love,
We should agree as angels do above.
WALLER: _Divine Love,_ Canto iii.

Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all agree.
POPE: _Windsor Forest,_ Line 13.


Better have failed in the high aim, as I,
Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed.
ROBERT BROWNING: _The Inn Album,_ iv.


          When he speaks,
The air, a chartered libertine, is still
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


I have a kind of alacrity in sinking.
SHAKS.: _Mer. W. of W.,_ Act iii., Sc. 5.


Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 100.

A Rechabite poor Will must live,
And drink of Adam's ale.
PRIOR: _The Wandering Pilgrim._


A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. ii., Line 156.


Alone, alone,--all, all alone;
Alone on a wide, wide sea.
COLERIDGE: _The Ancient Mariner,_ Pt. iv.


But look! Amazement on thy mother sits;
O step between her and her fighting soul:
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, 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.
POPE: _Epis. to Arbuthnot,_ Line 169.


          Fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels: how can man then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii, Sc. 2.

          I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i, Sc. 7.

Ambition has but one reward for all:
A little power, a little transient fame,
A grave to rest in, and a fading name.
WILLIAM WINTER: _Queen's Domain._

To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 262.

Such joy ambition finds.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 92.


America! half brother of the world!
With something good and bad of every land;
Greater than thee have lost their seat--
Greater scarce none can stand.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _The Surface._


            Where eldest Night
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal anarchy amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 894.


The sap which at the root is bred
In trees, through all the boughs is spread;
But virtues which in parents shine
Make not like progress through the line.
WALLER: _To Zelinda._

What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards?
Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 215.


Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 66.

The angels come and go, the messengers of God.
R.H. STODDARD: _Hymn to the Beautiful._

          The good he scorn'd
Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost,
Not to return; or if it did, in visits
Like those of angels, short and far between.
BLAIR: _The Grave,_ Pt. ii., Line 586.


Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself,
And so shall starve with feeding.
SHAKS.: _Coriolanus,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

Never anger made good guard for itself.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

            'Twas merry when
You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act ii., Sc. 5.


Peace, brother, be not over-exquisite
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils;
For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown,
What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 359.


O good old man! how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways
Of hoar antiquity, but strewn with flowers.
WARTON: _Written on a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Monasticon._


In lazy apathy let stoics boast
Their virtue fix'd; 'tis fixed as in a frost.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 101.


Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone.
JOHN NORRIS: _The Parting._


I have done the state some service, and they know it.
No more of that; I pray you in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am, nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


All that glisters is not gold,
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

Appearances to save, his only care;
So things seem right no matter what they are.
CHURCHILL: _Rosciad,_ Line 299.


Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

His thirst he slakes at some pure neighboring brook,
Nor seeks for sauce where appetite stands cook.
CHURCHILL: _Gotham,_ iii., Line 133.


I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3

Oh popular applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 481.

The applause of list'ning senates to command.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 16


Whanne that Aprille with his shoures sote
The droughte of March hath perced to the rote.
CHAUCER: _Canterbury Tales,_ Prologue, Line 1.

April cold with dropping rain
Willows and lilacs brings again,
The whistle of returning birds,
And trumpet-lowing of the herds.
EMERSON: _May-day,_ Line 124.

When aince Aprile has fairly come,
An' birds may bigg in winter's lum,
An' pleisure's spreid for a' and some
        O' whatna state,
Love, wi' her auld recruitin' drum,
        Than taks the gate.
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON: _Underwoods,_ Bk. ii., iii.


In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill,
For e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 211


'Tis from high life high characters drawn;
A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. i., Line 135.


        Seraphs share with thee
Knowledge: But art, O man, is thine alone!
SCHILLER: _Artists,_ St 2.

Art is the child of Nature; yes,
Her darling child, in whom we trace
The features of the mother's face,
Her aspect and her attitude.
LONGFELLOW: _Kéramos._


In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.


              With grave
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd
A pillar of state.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 300.


'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
He rises on the toe; that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.


I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


By night an atheist half believes a God.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 176.


Ancient of days! august Athena! where,
Where are thy men of might, thy grand in soul?
Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were
First in the race that led to glory's goals
They won, and pass'd away.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 2.

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 240.


        The attempt and not the deed
Confounds us.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


            The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention like deep harmony.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


            Still govern thou my song,
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vii., Line 30,


Rejoice! ye fields, rejoice! and wave with gold,
When August round her precious gifts is flinging;
Lo! the crushed wain is slowly homeward rolled:
The sunburnt reapers jocund lays are singing.
RUSKIN: _The Months._


Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn,
Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. viii., Line 1.


      Most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary,
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 59.

No author ever spar'd a brother.
GAY: _Fables, The Elephant and the Bookseller._

How many great ones may remember'd be,
Which in their days most famously did flourish,
Of whom no word we hear, nor sign now see,
But as things wip'd out with a sponge do perish.
SPENSER: _Ruins of Time,_ St. 52.


               Man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
His glassy essence--like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep!
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With, fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
KEATS: _To Autumn._

Divinest autumn! who may paint thee best,
Forever changeful o'er the changeful globe?
Who guess thy certain crown, thy favorite crest,
The fashion of thy many-colored robe?
R.H. STODDARD: _Autumn._

Autumn wins you best by this its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. i.

            The lands are lit
With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod;
And everywhere the Purple Asters nod
And bend and wave and flit.
HELEN HUNT: _Asters and Golden Rod._

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn.
HOOD: _Autumn._


The lust of gold succeeds the rags of conquest:
The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless!
The last corruption of degenerate man.
DR. JOHNSON: _Irene,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 216.

            That disease
Of which all old men sicken,--avarice.
MIDDLETON: _Roaring Girl,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Awkward, embarrassed, stiff, without the skill
Of moving gracefully, or standing still,
One leg, as if suspicious of his brother,
Desirous seems to run away from t'other.
CHURCHILL: _Rosciad,_ Line 438.



Jove lifts the golden balances that show
The fates of mortal men, and things below.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. xxii., Line 271.


I saw her at a county ball;
There when the sound of flute and fiddle
Gave signal sweet in that old hall,
Of hands across and down the middle.
PRAED: _Belle of the Ball-Room,_ St. 2.


Eating the bitter bread of banishment.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word--banished?
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3


Hang out our banners on the outward walls.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

A banner with the strange device.
LONGFELLOW: _Excelsior._

Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry.
CAMPBELL: _Hohenlinden._


Be that blind bard who on the Chian strand,
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light,
Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssey
Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.
COLERIDGE: _Fancy in Nubibus._


Stone walls do not a prison make,
  Nor iron bars a cage.
LOVELACE: _To Althea from Prison,_ iv.


            Since Cleopatra died,
I have lived in such dishonor that the gods
Detest my baseness.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act iv., Sc. 14.


I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn, and undeserv'd disdain,
And bear the marks upon a blushing face,
Of needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.
COWPER: _Conversation,_ Line 347.


            Then more fierce
The conflict grew; the din of arms, the yell
Of savage rage, the shriek of agony,
The groan of death, commingled in one sound
Of undistinguish'd horrors.
SOUTHEY: _Madoc,_ Pt. ii., _The Battle._

For freedom's battle, once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 123.

When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
CAMPBELL: _Ye Mariners of England._


The hooded clouds, like friars,
  Tell their beads in drops of rain.
LONGFELLOW: _Midnight Mass._


And like a lane of beams athwart the sea,
Thro' all the circle of the golden year.
TENNYSON: _The Golden Year._


His beard was as white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.

His tawny beard was th' equal grace
Both of his wisdom and his face;
In cut and die so like a tile,
A sudden view it would beguile;
The upper part thereof was whey;
The nether, orange mix'd with grey.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 241.


A beast, that wants discourse of reason.
SHAKS.; _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


          My beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass that's broken presently;
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
SHAKS.: _Pass. Pilgrim,_ St. 11

          Beauty stands
In the admiration only of weak minds
Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes
Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy,
At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. ii., Line 220.

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet.
DRYDEN: _Cym. and Iph.,_ Line 1.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
KEATS: _Endymion,_ Bk. i., Line 1.

What is this thought or thing
Which I call beauty? is it thought or thing?
Is it a thought accepted for a thing?
Or both? or neither--a pretext?--a word?
MRS. BROWNING: _Drama of Ex. Extrem. of Sword-Glare._

If eyes were made for seeing,
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being.
EMERSON: _The Rhodora._

Fair tresses man's imperial race insnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto ii., Line 27.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats,
  Whose veil is unremoved
Till heart with heart in concord beats,
  And the lover is beloved.
WORDSWORTH: _To ----. Let Other Bards of Angels Sing._


In bed we laugh, in bed we cry,
And born in bed, in bed we die;
The near approach a bed may show
Of human bliss and human woe.
ISAAC DE BENSERADE: _Trans._ by Dr. Johnson.


          So work the honey-bees;
Creatures, that by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. vii., Line 203.


Beggars, mounted, run their horse to death.
SHAKS.:  _3 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


And puts himself upon his good behavior.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto v., St. 47.


                  When night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 500.


Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime!
MOORE: _Those Evening Bells._

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky!

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
    Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
    Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
    The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
    Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. cv.

      Hear the mellow wedding bells,
              Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!


The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality,_ St. 9.


A glory gilds the sacred page,
  Majestic like the sun;
It gives a light to every age;
  It gives, but borrows none.
COWPER: _Olney Hymns,_ No. 30.


Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded
That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 83.


You call them thieves and pillagers; but know
They are the winged wardens of your farms,
Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe,
And from your harvests keep a hundred harms.
LONGFELLOW: _Birds of Killingworth,_ St. 19.


Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The soul that rises with us our life's star,
        Hath had elsewhere its setting,
          And cometh from afar.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality,_ St. 5.

While man is growing, life is in decrease;
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 717.


A birthday:--and now a day that rose
With much of hope, with meaning rife--
A thoughtful day from dawn to close:
The middle day of human life.
JEAN INGELOW. _A Birthday Walk._


On Fame's eternal camping-ground
  Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards with solemn round
  The bivouac of the dead.
THEODORE O'HARA: _Bivouac of the Dead._


Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them;
But, in the less, foul profanation.
       *       *       *       *       *
That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


A naked house, a naked moor,
A shivering pool before the door,
A garden bare of flowers and fruit,
And poplars at the garden foot:
Such is the place that I live in,
Bleak without and bare within.
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON: _The House Beautiful._


How blessings brighten as they take their flight!
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night ii., Line 602.

For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
CONGREVE: _Mourning Bride,_ Act v., Sc. 12.


O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon;
Irrecoverably dark! total eclipse,
Without all hope of day.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 80.

O, loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeons, or beggary, or decrepit age!
Light, the prime work of God, to me 's extinct,
And all her various objects of delight
Annul'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd,
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 67.


Condition, circumstance, is not the thing;
Bliss is the same in subject or in king.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 57.

Vain, very vain, my weary search to find
That bliss which only centres in the mind.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 423.


When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

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

Blood is a juice of very special kind.
GOETHE: _Faust_ (Swanwick's Trans.), Line 1386.


O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.
GRAY: _Prog. of Poesy,_ Pt. i., St. 1, Line 3.


Who in life's battle firm doth stand
Shall bear hope's tender blossoms
    Into the silent land.
J.G. VON SALIS: _The Silent Land._


I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive,
Half wishing they were dead to save the shame.
The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow;
They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats,
And flare up boldly, wings and all.
What then?
Who's sorry for a gnat ... or girl?
MRS. BROWNING: _Aurora Leigh,_ Bk. ii., Line 732.


          Here's a large mouth, indeed,
That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas;
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions,
As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat;
  Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher's chorus-note
  Soft moves the dipping oar.
BAILLIE: _Oh Swiftly Glides the Bonnie Boat._


In conversation boldness now bears sway,
But know, that nothing can so foolish be
As empty boldness.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 34.


I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak;
I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


Cursed be he that moves my bones.
SHAKS.: _Shakespeare's Epitaph._

Rattle his bones over the stones!
He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns!
THOMAS NOEL: _The Pauper's Ride._


A book! O rare one!
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

          That place that does contain
My books, the best companions, is to me
A glorious court, where hourly I converse
With the old sages and philosophers;
And sometimes, for variety, I confer
With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _The Elder Brother,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Books cannot always please, however good;
Minds are not ever craving for their food.
CRABBE: _The Borough,_ Letter xxiv.

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know,
Are a substantial world, both pure and good;
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
WORDSWORTH: _Personal Talk._

Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 327.

Some books are lies frae end to end.
BURNS: _Death and Dr. Hornbook._


Society is now one polish'd horde,
Formed of two mighty tribes, the _Bores_ and _Bored._
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., St. 95.

Again I hear that creaking step!--
  He's rapping at the door!--
Too well I know the boding sound
  That ushers in a bore.
J.G. SAXE: _My Familiar._


Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
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.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


Solid men of Boston, banish long potations!
Solid men of Boston, make no long orations!
CHARLES MORRIS: _American Song. From Lyra Urbanica._


Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.
MARLOWE: _Faustus._


There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye,
But hath, his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act ii., Sc. 1


          For his bounty,
There was no winter in 't; an autumn 't was,
That grew the more by reaping.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act v., Sc. 2

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
   Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear,
  He gain'd from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.
GRAY: _Elegy, The Epitaph._


The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


I'd be a butterfly born in a bower,
  Where roses and lilies and violets meet.
THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY: _I'd be a Butterfly._


There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
POPE: Satire i., Line 6.


The whining schoolboy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

   The smiles, the tears,
   Of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken.
MOORE: _Oft in the Stilly Night._


We twa hae run about the braes,
  And pu'd the gowans fine.
BURNS: _Auld Lang Syne._


            I know them, yea,
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
Scrambling, outfacing, fashion-monging boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander,
Go anticly, and show outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies if they durst;
And this is all.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


            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.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


    'Tis more brave
To live, than to die.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto vi., St. 11.

None but the brave deserves the fair.
DRYDEN: _Alex. Feast,_ St. 1.

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
COLLINS: _Lines in 1764._


Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.


O God! that bread should be so dear,
   And flesh and blood so cheap!
HOOD: _The Song of the Shirt._


The yielding marble of her snowy breast.
WALLER: _On a Lady passing through a Crowd of People._

A word in season spoken
   May calm the troubled breast.
CHARLES JEFFERYS: _A Word in Season._


When the good man yields his breath
(For the good man never dies).
JAMES MONTGOMERY: _The Wanderer of Switzerland,_ Pt. v.


But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
   Are so queer!


          Breezes of the South!
Who toss the golden and the flame-like flowers,
And pass the prairie-hawk that, poised on high,
Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not--ye have played
Among the palms of Mexico and vines
Of Texas, and have crisped the limpid brooks
That from the fountains of Sonora glide
Into the calm Pacific--have ye fanned
A nobler or a lovelier scene than this?


          Since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes--
I will be brief.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

For brevity is very good,
When we are, or are not, understood.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 669.


              What! shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers;--shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?
And sell the mighty space of our large honors
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
I'd rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


You are just a sweet bride in her bloom,
All sunshine, and snowy, and pure.
THOMAS B. ALDRICH: _An Untimely Thought._


By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
  Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattl'd farmers stood,
  And fired the shot heard round the world.
EMERSON: _Hymn sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument._


A silvery brook comes stealing
   From the shadow of its trees,
Where slender herbs of the forest stoop
   Before the entering breeze.


        I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
And hurt my brother.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Affliction's sons are brothers in distress;
A brother to relieve,--how exquisite the bliss!
BURNS: _A Winter Night._


The earth hath bubbles as the water has,
And these are of them.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.
WOODWORTH: _The Old Oaken Bucket._


The bud is on the bough again.
  The leaf is on the tree.
CHARLES JEFFERYS: _The Meeting of Spring and Summer_


Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying!
And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iii., Line 360.


The hand that rounded Peter's dome,
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome,
Wrought in a sad sincerity;
Himself from God he could not free;
He builded better than he knew:
The conscious stone to beauty grew.
EMERSON: _The Problem._


A sacred burden is this life ye bear:
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly,
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly.
Gentlemen leaving Lenox Academy, Mass._


For what are they all in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet?
EMERSON: _Good-Bye._


Let thy mind still be bent, still plotting, where
And when, and how thy business may be done,
Slackness breeds worms; but the sure traveller,
Though he alights sometimes, still goeth on.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 57.


All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Home-Thoughts, From Abroad._



              Wit will shine
Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
DRYDEN: _To the Memory of Mr. Oldham,_ Line 15.


Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

But yesterday the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world; now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


And through the heat of conflict keeps the law
In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
WORDSWORTH: _Character of the Happy Warrior._


          Calumny will sear
Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums, and ha's.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


The bed was made, the room was fit,
By punctual eve the stars were lit;
The air was still, the water ran,
No need was there for maid or man,
When we put up, my ass and I,
At God's green caravanserai.


How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Some positive, persisting fops we know,
Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so;
But you with pleasure own your errors past,
And make each day a critique on the last.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 9.


The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise;
My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 139.


That wondrous soul Charoba once possest,--
Capacious, then, as earth or heaven could hold,
Soul discontented with capacity,--
Is gone (I fear) forever.


O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won.
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
    But O heart! heart! heart!
      O the bleeding drops of red,
        Where on the deck my Captain lies,
          Fallen cold and dead.
WALT WHITMAN: _O Captain! My Captain_! (On Death of Lincoln.)

A rude and boisterous captain of the sea.
JOHN HOME: _Douglas,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Care that is enter'd once into the breast,
Will have the whole possession, ere it rest.
BEN JONSON: _Tale of a Tub,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Care, whom not the gayest can outbrave,
Pursues its feeble victim to the grave.
HENRY KIRKE WHITE: _Childhood,_ Pt. ii., Line 17.

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt;
And every grin, so merry, draws one out.
PETER PINDAR: _Ex. Odes,_ Ode 15.

Hang sorrow! care will kill a cat,
And therefore let's be merry.
GEORGE WITHER: _Poem on Christmas._


For my means, I'll husband them so well,
They shall go far with little.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.


A harmless necessary cat.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


          The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion.
WORDSWORTH: _Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey._


          The high embower'd roof,
With antique pillars, massy proof,
And storied windows, richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
MILTON: _Il Penseroso,_ Line 157.


Like Cato, give his little senate laws,
And sit attentive to his own applause.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 207.


O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
  And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
  Across the sands o' Dee.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _The Sands of Dee._


And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act ii, Sc. 1.

Know when to speak; for many times it brings
Danger, to give the best advice to kings.
HERRICK: _Aph. Caution in Council,_

Vessels large may venture more,
But little boats should keep near shore.
FRANKLIN: _Poor Richard._


Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
    Down to a sunless sea.
COLERIDGE: _Kubla Khan._


But earthly happier is the rose distill'd,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain
But our destroyer, foe to God and man?
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 748.


Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
Are lost on hearers that our merits know.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. x., Line 293.


Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds--hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 't is shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
SHAKS.: _Timon of A.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


        There I throw my gage,
To prove it on thee, to the extremest point
Of mortal breathing.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


          That power
Which erring men call Chance.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 587.

All nature is but art unknown to thee,
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 289.


All but God is changing day by day.

When change itself can give no more,
'T is easy to be true.
CHARLES SEDLEY: _Reasons for Constancy._

Let the great world spin forever down the ringing
  grooves of change.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ Line 182.


For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.
SHAKS.: _Venus and A.,_ Line 1019.

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;
Still by himself abused or disabused.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 13.


There is a kind of character in thy life,
That to the observer doth thy history
Fully unfold.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Worth, courage, honor, these indeed
Your sustenance and birthright are.
E.C. STEDMAN: _Beyond the Portals,_ Pt. 10.


  Charity itself fulfils the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Alas for the rarity
Of Christian charity
Under the sun!
HOOD: _Bridge of Sighs._


Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto v., Line 34.


So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity,
That when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lackey her.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 453.


I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perish'd in his pride.
Of him who walk'd in glory and in joy,
Following his plough along the mountain side.
WORDSWORTH: _Res. and Indep.,_ St. 7.


Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. iv., Canto ii., St. 32.


Doubtless the pleasure is as great,
Of being cheated as to cheat.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto iii., Line 1.


              It is good
To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Legend of Brittany,_ Pt. i., St. 35.


To swallow gudgeons ere they 're catch'd,
And count their chickens ere they 're hatch'd.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., Line 923.


Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Sc. 4.


Ah! what would the world be to us
  If the children were no more?
We should dread the desert behind us
  Worse than the dark before.
LONGFELLOW: _Children._

Behold the child, by nature's kindly law,
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
POPE: _Essay on Man._ Epis. ii., Line 275.

The child is father of the man.
WORDSWORTH: _My Heart Leaps,_ Line 7.

Children are the keys of Paradise.
They alone are good and wise,
Because their thoughts, their very lives are prayer
R.H. STODDARD: _The Children's Prayer._

I have had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days.
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
CHARLES LAMB: _Old Familiar Faces._

As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 330.

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again, just for to-night.


Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
MOORE: _A Canadian Boat-Song._


Cervantes smil'd Spain's chivalry away.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., St. 11.


There's small choice in rotten apples.
SHAKS.: _Tam. of the S.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Follow thou thy choice.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Alcayde of Molina._


Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ Line 33.


In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.
JULIA WARD HOWE: _Battle Hymn of the Republic._

Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
Of his authority.
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Golden Legend,_ Pt. iii.

          Christ--the one great word
Well worth all languages in earth or Heaven.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Heaven._

We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Biglow Papers,_ No. iii.


At Christmas play, and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year.
TUSSER: 500 _Pts. Good Hus.,_ Ch. 12.

Again at Christmas did we weave
  The holly round the Christmas hearth;
  The silent snow possess'd the earth.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. lxxvii., St. 1.

Bright be thy Christmas tide!
Carol it far and wide,
Jesus, the King and the Saviour, is come!
FRANCES R. HAVERGAL: _Christmas Mottoes._

Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., Introduction.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse.
CLEMENT C. MOORE: _A Visit from St. Nicholas._


Who builds a church to God, and not to fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iii., Line 285.

"What is a church?" Let truth and reason speak;
They would reply--"The faithful pure and meek,
From Christian folds, the one selected race,
Of all professions, and in every place."
CRABBE: _The Borough,_ Letter ii.


The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the slave
Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud
Resigns his power; the miser drops his hoard;
Where human folly sleeps.
DYER: _Ruins of Rome,_ Line 540.


My master is of churlish disposition,
And little recks to find the way to heaven,
By doing deeds of hospitality.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.


And grasps the skirts of happy chance,
And breasts the blows of circumstance.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. lxiii., St. 2.


A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon't.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act iv., Sc. 14.


Before man made us citizens, great Nature made us men.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _The Capture of Fugitive Slaves._


As one who long in populous city pent,
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 445.


Love taught him shame; and shame, with love at strife,
Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
DRYDEN: _Cym. and Iph.,_ Line 133.


          Tho' he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. vii., Line 308.


E'en from the body's purity, the mind
Receives a secret sympathetic aid.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Summer,_ Line 1269.


Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd,
And still where many a garden flow'r grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 137.


As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,--
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 189.


Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train,
To traverse climes beyond the western main.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 409.


Itt 's pride that putts the countrye doune,
  Then take thine old cloake about thee.
PERCY: _Take Thy Old Cloak About Thee._


Till like a clock worn out with eating time,
The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
DRYDEN: _Oedipus,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


The naked every day he clad
  When he put on his clothes.
GOLDSMITH: _Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog._


Circling the mountains the gray clouds go
Heavy with storms as a mother with child,
Seeking release from their burden of snow
With calm slow motion they cross the wild--
Stately and sombre, they catch and cling
To the barren crags of the peaks in the west,
Weary with waiting, and mad for rest.

    Clouds on the western side
Grow gray and grayer, hiding the warm sun.

Those clouds are angels' robes.--That fiery west
Is paved with smiling faces.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


Go, call a coach, and let a coach be call'd,
And let the man who calleth be the caller,
And in his calling let him nothing call
But coach! coach! coach! oh, for a coach, ye gods!
CAREY: _Chrononhotonthologos,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


          The early village cock
Hath twice done salutation to the morn.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.


A "strange coincidence," to use a phrase
By which such things are settled nowadays.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto vi., St. 78.


The cold in clime are cold in blood,
  Their love can scarce deserve the name.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 1099.

For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


"While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand;
When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
And when Rome falls--the world."
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 145.


Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


I took it for a faery vision
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colors of the rainbow live,
And play i' th' plighted clouds.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 298.


Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world and child of the skies!
Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendors unfold.


Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iii., Line 339.


The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory or the grave!
CAMPBELL: _Hohenlinden._


Incens'd with indignation Satan stood
Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th' Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 707.


O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
'Tis like a pardon after execution;
That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me;
But now I'm past all comforts here but prayers.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.


Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
I'd set my ten commandments in your face.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


How commentators each dark passage shun,
And hold their farthing candle to the sun.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vii., Line 97.


Where wealth and freedom reign contentment fails,
And honor sinks where commerce long prevails.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 91.


When one that holds communion with the skies
Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise,
And once more mingles with us meaner things,
'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings.
COWPER: _Charity,_ Line 435.


Oh could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
  We'd make with joyful wing
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
  Companions of the spring.
JOHN LOGAN: _To the Cuckoo._


When the moon shone, we did not see the candle;
So doth the greater glory dim the less.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her,
Save thine "incomparable oil," Macassar!
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 17.


Though pleased to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way.
MATTHEW GREEN: _Spleen,_ Line 93.


O, heavens! can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
SHAKS.: _Titus And.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


Under the storm and the cloud to-day,
And to-day the hard peril and pain--
To-morrow the stone shall be rolled away,
For the sunshine shall follow the rain.
Merciful Father, I will not complain,
I know that the sunshine shall follow the rain.
JOAQUIN MILLER: _For Princess Maud._


Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
MILTON: _Arcades,_ Line 68.


          She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek.
SHAKS.: _Tw. Night,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.


Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


To each his suff'rings; all are men,
  Condemn'd alike to groan,--
The tender for another's pain,
  Th' unfeeling for his own.
GRAY: _On a Distant Prospect of Eton College._


Come, now again thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the throbbing heart,
Till we discern the wounds within.
CRABBE: _Hall of Justice,_ Pt. ii.


          I will believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.


        Arms on armor clashing bray'd
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots rag'd; dire was the noise
Of conflict.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vi., Line 209.


Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!
  Confusion on thy banners wait!
GRAY: _The Bard,_ Pt. i., St. 1.

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 995.


Wherever God erects a house of prayer,
The Devil always builds a chapel there;
And 't will be found, upon examination,
The latter has the largest congregation.
DEFOE: _True-Born Englishman,_ Pt. i., Line 1.


Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing,
  They mock the air with idle slate.
GRAY: _The Bard,_ Pt. i., St. 1.


Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents torn awry,
And lose the name of action.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

O conscience, into what abyss of fears
And horrors hast thou driven me; out of which
I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. x., Line 842.

But, at sixteen, the conscience rarely gnaws
So much, as when we call our old debts in
At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil,
And find a deuced balance with the devil.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 167.


Consideration like an angel came,
And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man;
  He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf;
But consistency still wuz a part of his plan,--
  He's ben true to _one_ party, an' thet is himself.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Biglow Papers,_ No. ii.


This grief is crowned with consolation.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3.


Conspiracies no sooner should be formed
Than executed.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


I am constant as the northern star,
Of whose true-fix'd, and resting quality
There is no fellow in the firmament.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in realms above.
COLERIDGE: _Christabel,_ Pt. ii.


              To die: to sleep:
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,--'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


For contemplation he and valor form'd,
For softness she and sweet attractive grace.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 297.


          From no one vice exempt,
And most contemptible to shun contempt.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. i., Line 194.


          Sons and brothers at a strife!
What is your quarrel? how began it first?
--No quarrel, but a slight contention.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


He that commends me to mine own content,
Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

This is the charm, by sages often told,
Converting all it touches into gold:
Content can soothe, where'er by fortune placed,
Can rear a garden in the desert waste.
HENRY KIRKE WHITE: _Clifton Grove,_ Line 139.


Woman's at best a contradiction still.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 270.


Great contest follows, and much learned dust
Involves the combatants; each claiming truth,
And truth disclaiming both.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. iii., Line 161.


A dearth of words a woman need not fear;
But 't is a task indeed to learn--to hear:
In that the skill of conversation lies;
That shows or makes you both polite and wise.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire v., Line 57.


More proselytes and converts use t' accrue
To false persuasions than the right and true;
For error and mistake are infinite,
But truth has but one way to be i' th' right.
BUTLER: _Misc. Thoughts,_ Line 113.


Heaven sends us good meat; but the devil sends cooks.
GARRICK: _Epigr. on Goldsmith's Retal._


Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all;
All 's one to her--above her fan
She 'd make sweet eyes at Caliban.
T.B. ALDRICH: _Coquette._


Corruption is a tree, whose branches are
Of an unmeasurable length: they spread
Ev'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thence
Hath infected some chairs and stools of authority.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Hon. Man's For.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3

At length corruption, like a general flood,
(So long by watchful ministers withstood,)
Shall deluge all; and avarice creeping on,
Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iii., Line 135.


          Bosom up my counsel,
You'll find it wholesome.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take--and sometimes tea.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., Line 7.


God made the country, and man made the town;
What wonder, then, that health and virtue, gifts,
That can alone make sweet the bitter draught
That life holds out to all, should most abound,
And least be threatened in the fields and groves?
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. i., Line 749.

True patriots all; for be it understood
We left our country for our country's good.
GEORGE BARRINGTON: _Prologue written for
the Opening of the Playhouse at New South
Wales, Jan. 16, 1796._


            What man dare, I dare.
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcanian tiger.
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

I dare do all that may become a man:
Who dares do more is none.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 7.

            No thought of flight,
None of retreat, no unbecoming deed
That argued fear; each on himself relied,
As only in his arm the moment lay
Of victory.
MILTON, _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vi., Line 236.


The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Whom I have soon to weed and pluck away.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

          Not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

          A mere court butterfly,
That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.
BYRON: _Sardanapalus,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


How sweet and gracious, even in common speech,
Is that fine sense which men call Courtesy!
Wholesome as air and genial as the light,
Welcome in every clime as breath of flowers,--
It transmutes aliens into trusting friends,
And gives its owner passport round the globe.
JAMES T. FIELDS: _Courtesy._


Bring, therefore, all the forces that you may,
And lay incessant battery to her heart;
Plaints, prayers, vows, ruth, and sorrow, and dismay,--
These engines can the proudest love convert.
SPENSER: _Amoretti and Epithalamion,_ Sonnet xiv.

She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won.
SHAKS.: _Titus And.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

He that would win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto i., Line 449.


When workmen strive to do better than well,
They do confound their skill in covetousness.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.


O, that a mighty man, of such descent,
Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
SHAKS.: _Tam. of the S.,_ Introduction, Sc. 2.

Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

The man that lays his hand upon a woman,
Save in the way of kindness, is a wretch
Whom 't were gross flattery to name a coward.
JOHN TOBIN: _Honeymoon,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

The coward never on himself relies,
But to an equal for assistance flies.
CRABBE: Tale iii., Line 84.


With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears.
MILTON: _Lycidas,_ Line 139.


So by false learning is good sense defac'd;
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs, nature meant but fools.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. i., Line 25.

And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin.
JOHN BROWN: _An Essay on Satire._


Me let the tender office long engage
To rock the cradle of reposing age.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 408.


That for ways that are dark
And for tricks that are vain,
The heathen Chinee is peculiar.
BRET HARTE: _Plain Language from Truthful James._


Creation sleeps! 'T is as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,--
An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night i., Line 23.


Bless paper credit! last and best supply!
That lends corruption lighter wings to fly.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iii., Line 39.


Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried,
If he kneel not before the same altar with me?
MOORE: _Come, Send Round the Wine._


Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

          One murder made a villain,
Millions a hero. Princes were privileged
To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.
BEILBY PORTEUS: _Death,_ Line 154.


I am nothing if not critical.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Critics I saw, that other names deface,
And fix their own, with labor, in their place.
POPE: _Temple of Fame,_ Line 37.


Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud,
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,
To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd.
MILTON: _Sonnets, To the Lord General Cromwell._


          The moon of Mahomet
          Arose, and it shall set;
While, blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon,
          The cross leads generations on.
SHELLEY: _Hellas,_ Line 221.


Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife
  Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 19.


Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

          What seem'd his head
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Satan was now at hand.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 666.


A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Cupid is a casuist,
A mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your device....
Heralds high before him run;
He has ushers many a one;
He spreads his welcome where he goes,
And touches all things with his rose.
All things wait for and divine him,--
How shall I dare to malign him?
EMERSON: _Daem. and Celes., Love,_ Pt. i.


                      'T is an ill cure
For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them.
SIR HENRY TAYLOR: _Philip Van Artevelde,_ Pt. i., Act i., Sc. 5.


The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
  The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
  And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 1.


I loathe that low vice, curiosity.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 23.


Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,--
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. i., Line 684.


We must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


            Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

                But in their stead
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.
MILTON: _Lycidas,_ Line 100.


How use doth breed a habit in a man!
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

        Custom calls me to 't;--
What custom wills, in all things should we do 't?
SHAKS.: _Coriolanus,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4


Dark tree! still sad when others' grief is fled,
The only constant mourner o'er the dead.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 286.



Fair daffadills, we weep to see
  You haste away so soon:
As yet the early rising sun
  Has not attained his noon.
HERRICK: _To Daffadills._


Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand?...
                  or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act ii., Sc. 1


The daisy's cheek is tipp'd with a blush,
She is of such low degree.
HOOD: _Flowers._


And deal damnation round the land.
POPE: _The Universal Prayer,_ St. 7.


A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw.
COLERIDGE: _Kubla Khan._


Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze:
And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 251.

Her feet beneath her petticoat,
Like little mice, stole in and out,
  As if they feared the light;
But, oh! she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter-day
  Is half so fine a sight.
SUCKLING: _On a Wedding._

Come and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 33.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined!
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet,
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 22.

You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet,
  Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 86. 10.


He that stands upon a slippery place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,
Nor thought of tender happiness betray.
WORDSWORTH: _Character of the Happy Warrior._


Oh their Dante of the dread Inferno,
Wrote one song--and in my brain I sing it.
ROBERT BROWNING: _One Word More,_ xvii.


I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 7

The bravest are the tenderest,--
The loving are the daring.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _The Song of the Camp._


Lo! darkness bends down like a mother of grief
On the limitless plain, and the fall of her hair
It has mantled a world.
JOAQUIN MILLER: _From Sea to Sea,_ St. 4.

Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall,
And universal darkness buries all.
POPE: _Dunciad,_ Bk. iv., Line 649.


Th' adorning thee with so much art
  Is but a barb'rous skill;
'Tis like the pois'ning of a dart,
  Too apt before to kill.
ABRAHAM COWLEY: _The Waiting Maid._


Still harping on my daughter.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!
Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.
MOORE: _Lalla Rookh, The Fire-Worshippers._


                The morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Clothing the palpable and familiar
With golden exhalations of the dawn.
COLERIDGE: _Death of Wallenstein,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

=Day, Days.=

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.
BEATTIE: _The Hermit._

My days are in the yellow leaf;
  The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
  Are mine alone!
BYRON: _On my Thirty-sixth Year._

One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
WORDSWORTH: _Nutting._


Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come, when it will come.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that's the end of human misery.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.

Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

    Behind her death,
Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet
On his pale horse.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. x., Line 588.

Come to the bridal chamber, Death!
Come to the mother's, when she feels,
For the first time, her first-born's breath;
Come when the blessed seals
That close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wail its stroke;
Come in consumption's ghastly form,
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet song, and dance, and wine;
And thou art terrible,--the tear,
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know, or dream, or fear
Of agony are thine.
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: _Marco Bozzaris._

Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 1011.

To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
MACAULAY: _Lays Anc. Rome, Horatius,_ xxvii.

Leaves have their times to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath,
And stars to set--but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death.
MRS. HEMANS: _Hour of Death._

Death is only kind to mortals.
SCHILLER: _Complaint of Ceres,_ St. 4.

What a strange, delicious amazement is Death,
To be without body and breathe without breath.
EDWIN ARNOLD: _She and He._

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
  This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
  Whose portal we call death.
LONGFELLOW: _Resignation,_ St. 5.

Our days begin with trouble here,
  Our life is but a span,
And cruel death is always near,
  So frail a thing is man.
_From the New England Primer._

Death rides on every passing breeze,
  He lurks in every flower.
HEBER: _At a Funeral,_ No. i.

How wonderful is Death!
Death and his brother Sleep.
SHELLEY: _Queen Mab,_ St. i.

And Death is beautiful as feet of friend
Coming with welcome at our journey's end.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _To George William Curtis._

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.
DRYDEN: _Aurengzebe,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


You say, you nothing owe; and so I say:
He only owes, who something hath to pay.
MARTIAL: (_Hay_), ii., 3.


Before decay's effacing fingers
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 68.

The ruins of himself! now worn away
With age, yet still majestic in decay.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xxiv., Line 271.


Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,
And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., St. 17


And after him came next the chill December:
Yet he, through merry feasting which he made
And great bonfires, did not the cold remember;
His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. vii., Canto vii., St. 41.

                    As soon
Seek roses in December, ice in June.
BYRON: _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,_ Line 75.


Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.
EARL OF ROSCOMMON: _Essay on Translated Verse_; Line 113.


If it were done, when 't is done, then 't were well
It were done quickly.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 7.

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight,
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right;
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.


                And with necessity,
The tyrant's plea, excus'd his devilish deeds.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 393.

              Oh! 't is easy
To beget great deeds; but in the rearing of them--
The threading in cold blood each mean detail,
And furze brake of half-pertinent circumstance--
There lies the self-denial.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies,
Methinks her patient sons before me stand,
Where the broad ocean leans against the land.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 282.


              Such a numerous host
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep,
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 993.


So may a glory from defect arise.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Deaf and Dumb._


What boots it at one gate to make defence,
And at another to let in the foe?
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 560.


I do defy him, and I spit at him;
Call him a slanderous coward, and a villain:
Which to maintain, I would allow him odds;
And meet him, were I tied to run a-foot,
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Hail, source of being! universal soul
Of heaven and earth! essential presence, hail!
To Thee I bend the knee; to Thee my thoughts
Continual, climb; who, with a master hand,
Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 556.


As high as we have mounted in delight,
In our dejection do we sink as low.
WORDSWORTH: _Resolution and Independence,_ St. 4.


Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Be wise to-day; 't is madness to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead;
Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night i., Line 390.


               Deep on his front engraven,
Deliberation sat, and public care.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 300.


She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight,
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament.
WORDSWORTH: _She was a Phantom of Delight._


                For love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul
That not your trespass but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place.
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 4.


What's a fine person, or a beauteous face,
Unless deportment gives them decent grace?
Blest with all other requisites to please,
Some want the striking elegance of ease;
The curious eye their awkward movement tires;
They seem like puppets led about by wires.
CHURCHILL: _Rosciad,_ Line 741.


God's love seemed lost upon him.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Heaven._


All day the darkness and the cold
  Upon my heart have lain,
Like shadows on the winter sky,
  Like frost upon the pane.
WHITTIER: _On Receiving an Eagle's Quill._


In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea,
Or in the wide desert where no life is found.
HOOD. _Sonnet, Silence._

The keenest pangs the wretched find
  Are rapture to the dreary void,
The leafless desert of the mind,
  The waste of feelings unemployed.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 957.

=Desire (Love).=

It liveth not in fierce desire,
  With dead desire it doth not die.
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto v., St. 13.


Desolate! Life is so dreary and desolate.
Women and men in the crowd meet and mingle,
Yet with itself every soul standeth single,
Deep out of sympathy moaning its moan;
Holding and having its brief exultation;
Making its lonesome and low lamentation;
Fighting its terrible conflicts alone.


Despair defies even despotism; there is
That in my heart would make its way thro' hosts
With levell'd spears.
BYRON: _Two Foscari,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

              Then black despair,
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world in which I moved alone.
SHELLEY: _Revolt of Islam, Dedication,_ St. 6

      The strongest and the fiercest spirit
That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 44.


      That old miracle--Love-at-first-sight--
Needs no explanations. The heart reads aright
Its destiny sometimes.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto vi., St. 16.

Where'er she lie,
Locked up from mortal eye,
In shady leaves of destiny.
RICHARD CRASHAW: _Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._


I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


Happy are they that hear their detractions,
And can put them to mending.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;
At every word a reputation dies.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., Line 15.


              'T is the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be;
The devil was well, the devil a saint was he.
RABELAIS: _Works,_ Bk. iv., Ch. xxiv.


As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.
MOORE: _As Down in the Sunless Retreats._


What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew,
Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew?
BEN JONSON: _Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet._


True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not shin'd upon.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 175.


It is as hard to come, as for a camel
To thread the postern of a needle's eye.
SHAKS: _Richard II.,_ Act v., Sc. 5.


Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. viii., Line 488.


And there began a lang digression
About the lords o' the creation.
BURNS: _The Twa Dogs._


Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., St. 99.


Oh! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd,
Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd!
MOORE: _Lalla Rookh, Veiled Prophet of Khorassan._


Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. iii., Canto ii., St. 15.

From hence, let fierce contending nations know
What dire effects from civil discord flow.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.


Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.


Let's teach ourselves that honorable stop,
Not to outsport discretion.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

It shewed discretion, the best part of valor.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _King and No King,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


                Diseases, desperate grown,
By desperate appliance are reliev'd,
Or not at all.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


'T is great, 't is manly, to disdain disguise;
It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night viii., Line 372.


I do not love thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this alone I know full well,
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell.
TOM BROWN: _Trans. of Martial's Ep. I.,_ 33.


Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 1.


You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,
With most admir'd disorder.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


He is of a very melancholy disposition.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


'T is strange how some men's tempers suit,
Like bawd and brandy, with dispute,
That for their own opinions stand fast,
Only to have them claw'd and canvass'd.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., Line 1.


Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
That no dissension hinder government.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act iv., Sc. 6.


          Away and mock the time with fairest show;
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 7.


          Like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


'T is distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. i., Line 7.

                      Sweetest melodies
Are those that are by distance made more sweet.
WORDSWORTH: _Personal Talk,_ St. 2.


The saddest thing that can befall a soul
Is when it loses faith in God and woman.
ALEXANDER SMITH: _A Life Drama,_ Sc. 12.


There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


And prove their doctrine orthodox,
By apostolic blows and knocks.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 205.


Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are 'clept
All by the name of dogs.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 261.


What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


                Modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To the bottom of the worst.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

                Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


The drama's laws the drama's patrons give,
For we that live to please, must please to live.
DR. JOHNSON: _Pro. On Opening Drury Lane Theatre._


                   I talk of dreams
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
Which is as thin of substance as the air;
And more inconstant than the wind.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.
BYRON: _Dream,_ St. 1.

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams,
Unnatural and full of contradictions;
Yet others of our most romantic schemes
Are something more than fictions.
HOOD: _The Haunted House._

Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.
TENNYSON: _The Two Voices,_ St. cxxvii.


Be plain in dress, and sober in your diet;
In short, my deary, kiss me, and be quiet.
LADY M.W. MONTAGU: _A Summary of Lord Lyttelton's Advice._

We sacrifice to dress, till household joys
And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry,
And keeps our larder lean; puts out our fires,
And introduces hunger, frost, and woe,
Where peace and hospitality might reign.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 614.


Oh, that men should put an enemy in
Their mouths, to steal away their brains! that we
Should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause,
Transform ourselves into beasts!
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 3,

Give him strong drink until he wink,
That's sinking in despair;
An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,
That's prest wi' grief an' care,
There let him house and deep carouse,
Wi' bumpers flowing o'er,
Till he forgets his loves or debts,
An' minds his griefs no more.
BURNS: _Scotch Drink._


Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join
The varying verse, the full resounding line,
The long majestic march, and energy divine.
POPE: Satire v., Line 267.


Some fiery fop, with new commission vain,
Who sleeps on brambles till he kills his man;
Some frolic drunkard, reeling from a feast,
Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest.
DR. JOHNSON: _London._


How much a dunce, that has been sent to roam,
Excels a dunce, that has been kept at home.
COWPER: _Prog. of Error,_ Line 415.


Dweller in yon dungeon dark,
Hangman of creation, mark!
BURNS: _Ode on Mrs. Oswald._


Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou, who art victory and law
When empty terrors overawe;
From vain temptations dost set free;
And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!
WORDSWORTH: _Ode to Duty._



So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.
BYRON: _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,_ Line 826.


Where more is meant than meets the ear.
MILTON: _Il Penseroso,_ Line 120.


The earth doth like a snake renew
Her winter weeds outworn.
SHELLEY: _Hellas,_ Line 1060.

Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe
That all was lost.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 782.

Upon my burned body lie lightly, gentle earth.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Maid's Tragedy,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Earth with her thousand voices praises God.
COLERIDGE: _Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni._


                    Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 96.


         An hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peered forth the golden window of the east.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Rise, heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing His praise
                      Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
                      With Him mayst rise:
That, as His death calcined thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.
HERBERT: _The Church._ _Easter._


Unquiet meals make ill digestions.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Some hae meat and canna eat,
    And some would eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
    Sae let the Lord be thankit.
BURNS: _Grace before Meat._


Echo waits with art and care
And will the faults of song repair.
EMERSON: _May-Day,_ Line 439.

O love, they die, in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iii., _Song._


              The sun, ...
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 597.


They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. xii., Line 645.


'Tis education forms the common mind;
Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. i., Line 149.


                        His tongue
Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 113.


There comes Emerson first, whose rich words, every one,
Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _A Fable for Critics._


He who ascends to mountain tops shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapp'd in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 45.


Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
  Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 12.


Life's but a means unto an end; that end
Beginning, mean, and end to all things,--God.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _A Country Town._


'Tis not now who's stout and bold?
But who bears hunger best, and cold?
And he's approv'd the most deserving,
Who longest can hold out at starving.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto iii., Line 353.


O England!--model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart,--
What mightst thou do, that honor would thee do,
Were all thy children kind and natural!
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., _Chorus._


'Tis death to me to be at enmity;
I hate it, and desire all good men's love.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
  Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
  That banner in the sky.


            Rash enthusiasm, in good society
Were nothing but a moral inebriety.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., Line 35.


Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise,
For envy is a kind of praise.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., Fable 44.

Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue;
But, like a shadow, proves the substance true.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. ii., Line 266.

Base envy withers at another's joy,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 284.


Nobles and heralds, by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior,
The son of Adam and of Eve:
Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?
PRIOR: _Ep. Extempore._

Here rests his head, upon the lap of earth,
  A youth to fortune and to fame unknown;
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
  And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
GRAY: _Elegy, Epitaph._


The trickling rain doth fall
Upon us one and all;
The south wind kisses
The saucy milkmaid's cheek,
The nun's demure and meek,
Nor any misses.
E.C. STEDMAN: _A Madrigal,_ St. 3.


          Shall Error in the round of time
Still father Truth?
TENNYSON: _Love and Duty._

But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,
  And dies among his worshippers.


                  Beyond is all abyss,
Eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. xii., Line 555.

Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ Line 184.


Adam the goodliest man of men since born
His sons, the fairest of her daughters, Eve.
MILTON: _Par. Lost.,_ Bk. iv., Line 323.


The day is done, and the darkness
  Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
  From an eagle in his flight.
LONGFELLOW: _The Day is Done._

The sun is set; the swallows are asleep;
The bats are flitting fast in the gray air;
The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep;
And evening's breath, wandering here and there
Over the quivering surface of the stream,
Wakes not one ripple from its silent dream.
SHELLEY: _Evening._


Farewell hope! and with hope, farewell fear!
Farewell remorse! all good to me is lost.
Evil, be thou my good; by thee at least
Divided empire with heaven's king I hold.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 108.

Evil springs up, and flowers, and bears no seed,
And feeds the green earth with its swift decay,
Leaving it richer for the growth of truth.


The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

                    By his life alone,
Gracious and sweet, the better way was shown.
WHITTIER: _The Pennsylvania Pilgrim._


To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of Heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.


Beheld the duteous son, the sire decayed,
The modest matron, and the blushing maid,
Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train,
To traverse climes beyond the Western main.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 407.


'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear;
Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were.
SUCKLING: _Against Fruition._


Experience is by industry achieved,
And perfected by the swift course of time.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent, of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

His head was silver'd o'er with age,
And long experience made him sage.
GAY, _Fables,_ Pt. i., _The Shepherd and the Philosopher._


Extremes in nature equal good produce,
Extremes in man concur to general use.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iii., Line 161.


Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

                True eyes
Too pure and too honest in aught to disguise
The sweet soul shining thro' them.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., St. 3.

There are eyes half defiant,
Half meek and compliant;
Black eyes, with a wondrous, witching charm
To bring us good or to work us harm,
PHOEBE CARY: _Doves' Eyes._

Soul-deep eyes of darkest night.
JOAQUIN MILLER: _Californian,_ Pt. iv.

Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. xxxii., St. 1.

The bright black eye, the melting blue,--
I cannot choose between the two.

These poor eyes, you called, I ween,
"Sweetest eyes were ever seen."
MRS. BROWNING: _Catarina to Camoens._

Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 21.



Anon out of the earth a fabric huge
Rose, like an exhalation.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 710.


Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

          The light upon her face
Shines from the windows of another world.
Saints only have such faces.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. ii., 6.

Can't I another's face commend,
And to her virtues be a friend,
But instantly your forehead lowers,
As if _her_ merit lessen'd _yours_?
MOORE: _The Farmer, the Spaniel, and the Cat,_ Fable ix.

Behind a frowning providence
  He hides a shining face.
COWPER: _Light Shining out of Darkness._


Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Exceeding fair she was not; and yet fair
In that she never studied to be fairer
Than Nature made her; beauty cost her nothing,
Her virtues were so rare.
GEORGE CHAPMAN: _All Fools,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


This is the fairy land; O spite of spites,
We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


If faith produce no works, I see
That faith is not a living tree.
HANNAH MORE: _Dan and Jane._

Whose faith, has centre everywhere,
Nor cares to fix itself to form.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. xxxiii., St. 1.

'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower
Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind
Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower,
And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
WORDSWORTH: _Weak is the Will of Man._

For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight;
His can't be wrong whose life is in the right.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iii., Line 303.


He that is down, needs fear no fall.
BUNYAN: _The Author's Way of Sending forth his
  Second Part of the Pilgrim,_ Pt. ii.


                As false
As air, as water, as wind, as sandy earth;
As fox to lamb; as wolf to heifer's calf;
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live register'd upon our brazen tombs.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Fame, if not double-faced, is double-mouthed,
And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds:
On both his wings, one black, the other white,
Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 971.

What's fame? a fancied life in others' breath,
A thing beyond us, even before our death.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 237.

There was a morning when I longed for fame,
  There was a noontide when I passed it by.
There is an evening when I think not shame
  Its substance and its being to deny.
JEAN INGELOW: _The Star's Monument,_ St. 81.

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar?
BEATTIE: _Minstrel,_ Bk. i., St. 1.

Or ravish'd with the whistling of a name,
See Cromwell, damn'd to everlasting fame!
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 281.


Birds in their little nest agree;
  And 'tis a shameful sight
When children of one family
  Fall out, and chide, and fight.
WATTS: _Divine Songs,_ Song xvii.


Famine is in thy cheeks.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Tell me, where is fancy bred;
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourishéd?
Reply, reply.
It is engendered in the eyes,
With gazing fed: and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 2. _Song._

She's all my fancy painted her;
  She's lovely, she's divine.
WILLIAM MEE: _Alice Gray._


Farewell! Farewell! Through keen delights
It strikes two hearts, this word of woe.
Through every joy of life it smites,--
Why, sometime they will know.
MARY CLEMMER: _Farewell._

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been:
A sound which makes us linger;--yet--farewell!
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 186.


The fashion wears out more apparel than the man.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

All human things are subject to decay,
And when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
DRYDEN: _MacFlecknoe,_ Line 1.

Things are where things are, and, as fate has willed,
So shall they be fulfilled.

And binding Nature fast in fate,
  Left free the human will.
POPE: _The Universal Prayer,_ St. 3.

For fate has wove the thread of life with pain,
And twins ev'n from the birth are misery and man!
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. vii., Line 263.


It is a wise father that knows his own child.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Father of all! in every age,
  In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
  Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.
POPE: _The Universal Prayer,_ St. 1.


Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Dare to be true: nothing can need a lie;
A fault which needs it most, grows two thereby.
HERBERT: _The Church Porch._

In vain my faults ye quote;
I write as others wrote
  On Sunium's hight.
WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR: _The Last Fruit of an Old Tree,_ Epigram cvi.


          Poor wretches, that depend
On greatness' favor, dream as I have done;
Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And yet are steep'd in favors.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act v., Sc. 4.


And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


          Why, what should be the fear?
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Of all base passions fear is most accurs'd.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full,
Weak and unmanly, loosens ev'ry power.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 286.

The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip
  To hand the wretch in order;
But where ye feel your honor grip,
  Let that aye be your border.
BURNS: _Ep. to a Young Friend._


Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crown'd,
Where all the ruddy family around
Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail,
Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 17.

                        Swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his feeder.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 776.


                    Come when the rains
Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice,
While the slant sun of February pours
Into the bowers a flood of light.


But spite of all the criticising elves,
Those who would make us feel, must feel themselves.
CHURCHILL: _Rosciad,_ Line 961.


Like snails did creep her pretty feet
  A little out, and then,
As if they played at bo-peep,
  Did soon draw in again.
HERRICK: _Aph. Upon Her Feet._


In all thy humors, whether grave or mellow,
Thou 'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow,
Hast so much wit and mirth and spleen about thee,
There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
ADDISON: _Spectator._ No. 68.


But who is this, what thing of sea or land,--
Female of sex it seems.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 710.


Who o'er the herd would wish to reign,
Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain!
Vain as the leaf upon the stream,
And fickle as a changeful dream.
SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake,_ Canto v., St. 10.


When fiction rises pleasing to the eye,
Men will believe, because they love the lie;
But truth herself, if clouded with a frown,
Must have some solemn proof to pass her down.
CHURCHILL: _Epis. to Hogarth,_ Line 291.

And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
GRAY: _The Bard,_ Pt. iii., St. 3.


Master, go on, and I will follow thee
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

To God, thy country, and thy friend be true.
HENRY VAUGHAN: _Rules and Lessons,_ St. 8.


Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village._


Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head,
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
COLERIDGE: _The Ancient Mariner,_ Pt. v.


I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

He who fights and runs away,
May live to fight another day;
But he who is in battle slain
Can never rise and fight again.
GOLDSMITH: _Art of Poetry._


From beds of raging fire to starve in ice
Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine,
Immovable, infix'd, and frozen round,
Periods of time; thence hurried back to fire.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 592.


                 Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 598.

The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.


Flag of the free heart's hope and home!
By angel hands to valor given;
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven.
JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE: _The American Flag._

The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.
CAMPBELL: _Mariners of England._


Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame,
Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.
GRAY: _Prog, of Poesy,_ Pt. ii., St. 2, Line 10.

The flame that lit the battle's wreck
  Shone round him o'er the dead.
HEMANS: _Casablanca._


By heav'n I cannot flatter: I do defy
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself;
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

'Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery 's the food of fools;
Yet, now and then, your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
SWIFT: _Cadenus and Vanessa,_ Line 755.

Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust,
  Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death?
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 11.


So, naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite 'em;
And so proceed _ad infinitum._
SWIFT: _Poetry, A Rhapsody._


Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a love-lorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing,
In my cheek's pale hue?
All my life with sorrow strewing,
Wed, or cease to woo.
CAMPBELL: _Maid's Remonstrance._


            Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


                The gentle race of flowers
Are lying in their lowly beds.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Death of the Flowers._

Flowers preach to us if we will hear.
CHRIS. G. ROSSETTI: _Consider the Lilies of the Field._

In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,
And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers
On its leaves a mystic language bears.
J.G. PERCIVAL: _Language of the Flowers._

Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost.
COLERIDGE: _Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni._


Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet,--perhaps may turn his blow!
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh save me from the _candid friend_!
GEORGE CANNING: _New Morality._


            Fools, to talking ever prone,
Are sure to make their follies known.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., Fable 44.

Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it,
If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 15.

Where lives the man that has not tried
How mirth can into folly glide,
  And folly into sin!
SCOTT: _Bridal of Triermain,_ Canto i., St. 21.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,
  And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
  What art can wash her guilt away?
GOLDSMITH: _The Hermit,_ Ch. xxiv.


Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
BYRON: _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,_ Line 6.

                        Since call'd
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iii., Line 495.

And ever since the Conquest have been fools.
EARL OF ROCHESTER: _Artemisia in the Town to Chloe in the Country._

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 66.


Lives of great men all remind us
  We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
  Footprints on the sands of time.
LONGFELLOW: _A Psalm of Life._


The kindest and the happiest pair
Will find occasion to forbear;
And something, every day they live,
To pity, and perhaps forgive.
COWPER: _Mutual Forbearance._


                  Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 648.


Summer or winter, day or night,
The woods are an ever-new delight;
They give us peace, and they make us strong,
Such wonderful balms to them belong:
So, living or dying, I'll take mine ease
Under the trees, under the trees.
R.H. STODDARD: _Under the Trees._

This is the forest primeval.
LONGFELLOW: _Evangeline,_ Introduction.


  Not in entire forgetfulness,
  And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come
  From God, who is our home.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality._

God of our fathers, known of old--
  Lord of our far-flung battle line--
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
  Dominion over palm and pine--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget.
RUDYARD KIPLING: _Recessional._


Good nature and good sense must ever join;
To err is human, to forgive divine.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. ii., Line 324.

They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Home._

Good, to forgive;
Best to forget!
ROBERT BROWNING: _La Saisiaz,_ Prologue.


She was a form of life and light
That seen, became a part of sight,
And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye,
The morning-star of memory!
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 1127.


True fortitude is seen in great exploits
That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides;
All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


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 as 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.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.

Fortune is female: from my youth her favors
Were not withheld, the fault was mine to hope
Her former smiles again at this late hour.
BYRON: _Mar. Faliero,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Forever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love;
And when we meet a mutual heart,
Come in between and bid us part?
THOMSON: _Song._


Frailty, thy name is Woman!
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act v., Sc. 7.


'Tis better using France, than trusting France;
Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas,
Which he hath given for fence impregnable,
And with their helps only defend ourselves;
In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


There are bonds of all sorts in this world of ours,
Fetters of friendship and ties of flowers,
  And true-lovers' knots, I ween;
The girl and the boy are bound by a kiss,
But there 's never a bond, old friend, like this,
  We have drunk from the same canteen.


We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold
Which Milton held.
WORDSWORTH: _Sonnet. It is not to be thought of, etc._

Oh, FREEDOM! thou art not, as poets dream,
A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs,
And wavy tresses gushing from the cap
With which the Roman master crowned his slave
When he took off the gyves. A bearded man,
Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailèd hand
Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow,
Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred
With tokens of old wars.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Antiquity of Freedom._

My angel,--his name is Freedom,--
Choose him to be your king;
He shall cut pathways east and west,
And fend you with his wing.
EMERSON: _Boston Hymn._

Then Freedom sternly said: "I shun
No strife nor pang beneath the sun,
When human rights are staked and won."
WHITTIER: _The Watchers._

When Freedom from her mountain-height
  Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
  And set the stars of glory there.
JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE: _The American Flag._


He is the freeman whom the truth makes free.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. v., Line 733.


I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd unfledged comrade.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Oh, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!
EMERSON: _Forbearance._

    The friendships of the world are oft
Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspir'd.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. xvi., Line 267.

Officious, innocent, sincere,
Of every friendless name the friend.
DR. JOHNSON: _Verses on the Death of Mr, Robert Levet,_ St. 2.

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 dewdrop from the sun.
WORDSWORTH: _To a Child._


His fair large front and eye sublime declar'd
Absolute rule.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 297.


    All the panes are hung with frost,
Wild wizard-work of silver lace.
T.B. ALDRICH: _Latakia._

What miracle of weird transforming
Is this wild work of frost and light,
This glimpse of glory infinite!
WHITTIER: _The Pageant,_ St. 8

But, oh! fell death's untimely frost
  That nipt my flower sae early.
BURNS: _Highland Mary._


The ripest fruit first falls.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
CONGREVE: _Mourning Bride,_ Act iii., Sc. 8.

Beware the fury of a patient man.
DRYDEN: _Absalom and Achitophel,_ Pt. i., Line 1005.


The dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

    O Death, O Beyond,
Thou art sweet, thou art strange!
MRS. BROWNING: _Rhapsody of Life's Progress._

Ah Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be.
TENNYSON: _Maud,_ Pt. xxvi., St. 3.

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
LONGFELLOW: _Psalm of Life._



Remote from cities liv'd a swain,
Unvex'd with all the cares of gain.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., _The Shepherd and the Philosopher._


So fades a summer cloud away;
  So sinks the gale when storms are o'er.
MRS. BARBAULD: _Death of the Virtuous._

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
BURNS: _The Cotter's Saturday Night._


Play not for gain, but sport. Who plays for more
Than he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart;
Perhaps his wife's too, and whom she hath bore.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 33.


                  A garden, sir,
Wherein all rainbowed flowers were heaped together.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

God the first garden made, and the first city, Cain.
COWLEY: _The Garden,_ Essay v.


Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.
BYRON: _A Sketch._


Here lies David Garrick--describe him who can,
An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man.
As an actor, confess'd without rival to shine;
As a wit, if not first, in the very first line;
Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart,
The man had his failings--a dupe to his art.
Like an ill-judging beauty, his colors he spread,
And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red.
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting:
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.
GOLDSMITH: _Retaliation,_ Line 93.


Full many a gem of purest ray serene
    The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 14.


Time, place, and action, may with pains be wrought.
But genius must be born, and never can be taught.
DRYDEN: _Epis. to Congreve_ Line 59.

Nor mourn the unalterable Days
That Genius goes and Folly Stays.
EMERSON: _In Memoriam._


            We are gentlemen,
That neither in our hearts, nor outward eyes,
Envy the great, nor do the low despise.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

When Adam dolve, and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?
_Lines used by John Ball in Wat Tyler's Rebellion._


What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.


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!
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

      Many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night;
They have driven sleep from mine eyes away.
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Golden Legend,_ Pt. iv.

Some say no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen,
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time,
No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 432.


She prizes not such trifles as these are:
The gifts she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd
Up in my heart; which I have given already,
But not deliver'd.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Saints themselves will sometimes be,
Of gifts that cost them nothing, free.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 495.


I'll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act ii, Sc. 1.


Late, late in a gloamin, when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,
The wood was sere, the moon i' the wane,
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain--
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane;
When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme,
Late, late in the gloamin Kilmeny came hame!
JAMES HOGG: _Kilmeny._


Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
MILTON: _Il Penseroso,_ Line 79.


Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

    His form had yet not lost
All her original brightness, nor appear'd
Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess
Of glory obscur'd.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 591.

Go where glory waits thee!
But while fame elates thee,
    Oh, still remember me!
MOORE: _Go Where Glory Waits Thee._

    The sunshine is a glorious birth;
    But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality,_ St. 2.

Ye sons of France, awake to glory!
  Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise!
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,
  Behold their tears and hear their cries!
JOSEPH R. DE L'ISLE: _Marseilles Hymn._


The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


          Swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted, base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 776.


'T is heaven alone that is given away,
'T is only God may be had for the asking.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _The Vision of Sir Launfal._

All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 267.

Thou art, O God, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from Thee:
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.
MOORE: _Thou Art, O God._

And they were canopied by the blue sky,
So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful
That God alone was to be seen in heaven.
BYRON: _The Dream,_ St. 4.

The conscious water saw its God and blushed.

From Thee, great God, we spring, to Thee we tend,--
Path, motive, guide, original, and end.
DR. JOHNSON: _Motto to the Rambler,_ No. 7.


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

Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
EMERSON: _Give All to Love._


    Gold; worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

O cursed lust of gold! when for thy sake
The fool throws up his interest in both worlds;
First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come.
BLAIR: _The Grave,_ Line 347.

So dear a life your arms enfold,
Whose crying is a cry for gold.
TENNYSON: _The Daisy,_ St. 24.


                May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be!
And, when old Time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

           Oh, sir! the good die first,
And they whose hearts are dry as summer's dust,
Burn to the socket.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. i., Line 504.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long:
And so make life, death, and that vast forever
One grand, sweet song.

=Good Night.=

        At once, good night:--
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

Good night! good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night, till it be morrow.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

To all, to each, a fair good night,
And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., L'Envoy.


'T is government that makes them seem divine.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act 1., Sc. 4.

              Each petty hand
Can steer a ship becalm'd; but he that will
Govern and carry her to her ends, must know
His tides, his currents, how to shift his sails;
What she will bear in foul, what in fair weathers;
Where her springs are, her leaks, and how to stop 'em;
What strands, what shelves, what rooks do threaten her.
BEN JONSON: _Catiline,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

For forms of government let fools contest,
Whate'er is best administer'd is best.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iii., Line 303.


When once our grace we have forgot,
Nothing goes right.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.

From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. i., Line 152.


Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
    The short and simple annals of the poor.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 8.


The still small voice of gratitude.
GRAY: _Ode for Music, Chorus,_ V., Line 8.

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


One destin'd period men in common have,
The great, the base, the coward, and the brave,
All food alike for worms, companions in the grave.
LANSDOWNE: _On Death._

          The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou 'rt named: Nature appall'd,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
BLAIR: _The Grave,_ Line 9.

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!
BEATTIE: _The Minstrel,_ Bk. ii., St. 17.


I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

            Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument,
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When honor's at the stake.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.

Great hearts have largest room to bless the small;
Strong natures give the weaker home and rest.
LUCY LARCOM: _Sonnet, The Presence._


Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth!
Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 73.

Such is the aspect of this shore;
'T is Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 90.

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 86. 1.


When Greeks joined Greeks, then was the tug of war.
NATHANIEL LEE: _Alex. the Great,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.


My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
SHAKS.: _Sonnet 50._

What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grief.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 362.

O brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly, in a plaintive mood,
The holy name of GRIEF!--holy herein,
That, by the grief of ONE, came all our good.
MRS. BROWNING: _Sonnets, Exaggeration._

In all the silent manliness of grief.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 384.


Where'er we tread, 't is haunted, holy ground.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold._ Canto ii., St. 88.


The groves were God's first temples.

In such green palaces the first kings reign'd,
Slept in their shades, and angels entertain'd;
With such old counsellors they did advise.
And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise.
WALLER: _On St. James's Park._


If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act 1., Sc. 3.


            Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

For I who hold sage Homer's rule the best,
Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
POPE: Satire ii., Line 159.


So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.

How guilt, once harbor'd in the conscious breast,
Intimidates the brave, degrades the great!
DR. JOHNSON: _Irene,_ Act iv., Sc. 8.



Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
DRYDEN: _Ovid's Metamorphoses,_ Bk. xv., Line 155.

Small habits well pursued betimes
May reach the dignity of crimes.
HANNAH MORE: _Floris,_ Pt. i., Line 85.


She knows her man, and when you rant and swear,
Can draw you to her with a single hair.
DRYDEN: _From Persius,_ Satire v., Line 246.

Golden hair, like sunlight streaming
On the marble of her shoulder.
J.G. SAXE: _The Lover's Vision,_ St. 3.

        When you see fair hair
Be pitiful.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. 4.

Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.
GRAY: _The Bard,_ Pt. i., St. 2.


No man e'er felt the halter draw,
With good opinion of the law.
JOHN TRUMBULL: _McFingal,_ Canto iii., Line 489.


          Let my hand--
This hand, lie in your own--my own true friend!
Hand in hand with you.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 5.

            'T was a hand
White, delicate, dimpled, warm, languid, and bland.
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?
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto iii., St. 13.


And there is even a happiness
That makes the heart afraid.
HOOD: _Ode to Melancholy._

Happiness depends, as Nature shows,
Less on exterior things than most suppose.
COWPER: _Table Talk,_ Line 246.

O happiness! our being's end and aim!
Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name:
That something still which prompts the eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 1.


    Soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
    This universal frame began:
    From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.
DRYDEN: _A Song for St. Cecilia's Day,_ Line 11.


The harp that once through Tara's halls
  The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
  As if that soul were fled.
MOORE: _The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls._


Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Running together all about,
The servants put each other out,
Till the grave master had decreed,
The more haste, ever the worst speed.
CHURCHILL: _Ghost,_ Bk. iv., Line 1159.


So Britain's monarch once uncovered sat,
While Bradshaw bullied in a broad-brimmed hat.
JAMES BRAMSTON: _Man of Taste._


To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

    Never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 98.

There was a laughing devil in his sneer,
That rais'd emotions both of rage and fear;
And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell!
BYRON: _Corsair,_ Canto i., St. 9.

He who surpasses or subdues mankind
Must look down on the hate of those below.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 45.


And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 67.


Oh good gray head which all men knew!
TENNYSON: _Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington,_ St. 4.

The tall, the wise, the reverend head
Must lie as low as ours.
WATTS: _Hymns and Spiritual Songs,_ Bk. ii., Hymn 63.


Nor love, nor honor, wealth, nor power,
Can give the heart a cheerful hour
When health is lost. Be timely wise;
With health all taste of pleasure flies.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., Fable 31.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
DRYDEN: _Epis. to John Dryden of Chesterton,_ Line 92.


A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

With every pleasing, every prudent part,
Say, what can Chloe want? She wants a heart.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 159.

Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle,
Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.
MRS. BROWNING: _Lady Geraldine's Courtship,_ xli.

The heart bowed down by weight of woe
To weakest hope will cling.

          Here the heart
May give a useful lesson to the head.
And Learning wiser grow without his books.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. vi., Line 85.

But on and up, where Nature's heart
  Beats strong amid the hills.
RICHARD M. MILNES: _Tragedy of the Lac de Gaube,_ St. 2.


Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge
That no king can corrupt.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Is as the Book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wondrous works.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. viii., Line 66.

Some feelings are to mortals given
With less of earth in them than heaven.
SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake,_ Canto ii., St. 22.


'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round,
As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames
No light; but rather darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all, but torture without end.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 61.

Grew darker at their frown.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 719.

To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite,
Who never mentions hell to ears polite.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iv., Line 149.

In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 20.

Hell is a city much like London--
A populous and a smoky city;
There are all sorts of people undone,
And there is little or no fun done;
Small justice shown, and still less pity.
SHELLEY: _Peter Bell the Third,_ Pt. iii.


I, the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
TENNYSON: _Loksley Hall,_ Line 178.

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine!
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 50.


Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed,
From Macedonia's madman to the Swede.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 219.

Whoe'er excels in what we prize,
Appears a hero in our eyes.
SWIFT: _Cadenus and Vanessa,_ Line 729.

To the hero, when his sword
Has won the battle for the free
Death's voice sounds like a prophet's word;
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of millions yet to be!
HALLECK: _Marco Bozzaris._

Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. xv., Line 157.


        The hills,
Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.

I have looked on the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung his tassels forth.
HEMANS: _The Voice of Spring._


History, with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv.; St. 108.


If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

There were his young barbarians all at play;
There was their Dacian mother: he, their sire,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday!
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 141.


Whoso lives the holiest life
Is fittest far to die.


When I am dead, no pageant train
  Shall waste their sorrows at my bier,
Nor worthless pomp of homage vain
  Stain it with hypocritic tear.
EDWARD EVERETT: _Alaric the Visigoth_


                        Home is the resort
Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,
Supporting and supported, polish'd friends
And dear relations mingle into bliss.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Autumn,_ Line 65.

This fond attachment to the well-known place
Whence first we started into life's long race,
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,
We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.
COWPER: _Tirocinium,_ Line 314.

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home.
J. HOWARD PAYNE: _Home, Sweet Home._

Type of the wise who soar but never roam,
True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
WORDSWORTH: _To a Skylark._


Read Homer once, and you can read no more,
For all books else appear so mean, so poor;
Verse may seem prose; but still persist to read,
And Homer will be all the books you need.

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
  That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne,
  Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold.
KEATS: _On first looking into Chapman's Homer._

Seven cities warred for Homer being dead;
Who living had no roofe to shrowd his head.
THOMAS HEYWOOD: _Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells._


An honest man he is, and hates the slime
That sticks on filthy deeds.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod;
An honest man's the noblest work of God.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 247.


                Too much honor:
O, 'tis a burthen, ... 'tis a burthen,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Honor travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path.
SHAKS.: _Troil, and Cress.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

Honor's a fine imaginary notion,
That draws in raw and unexperienced men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act ii., Sc. 5.

Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honor lies.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 193.

His honor rooted in dishonor stood,
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
TENNYSON: _Idyls, Elaine,_ Line 884.

There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay.
WILLIAM COLLINS: _Ode in 1746._


A page of Hood may do a fellow good
After a scolding from Carlyle or Ruskin.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _How Not to Settle It._


True hope is swift, and flies with swallows' wings;
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear,
Farewell remorse! All good to me is lost.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 108.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never is, but always to be blest.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 95.

Auspicious hope! in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. i., Line 45.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene,
  But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,
Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,
  As false and fleeting as 'tis fair.
HEBER: _On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope._

              Where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 65.

  "All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"
These words in sombre color I beheld
  Written upon the summit of a gate.
DANTE: _Inferno, Longfellow's Trans.,_ Canto iii., Line 9.


Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
WORDSWORTH: _Miscellaneous Sonnets,_ Pt. i., xxxiii.


          My fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise louse and stir
As life were in 't: I have supp'd full with horrors.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

On horror's head horrors accumulate.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.


My master is of churlish disposition,
And little recks to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted.
LONGFELLOW: _Evangeline,_ Pt. I., iv., Line 15.


The leader, mingling with the vulgar host,
Is in the common mass of matter lost.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. iv., Line 397.


Too busy with the crowded hour to fear to live or die.
EMERSON: _Quatrains, Nature._

Catch, then, oh catch the transient hour;
  Improve each moment as it flies!
Life's a short summer, man a flower;
  He dies--alas! how soon he dies!
DR. JOHNSON: _Winter, An Ode._


For there's nae luck about the house,
  There's nae luck at a';
There 's little pleasure in the house
  When our gudeman 's awa'.
WILLIAM J. MICKLE: _Manner's Wife._


          But hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity.
WORDSWORTH: _Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey._

O suffering, sad humanity!
O ye afflicted ones, who lie
Steeped to the lips in misery,
Longing, yet afraid to die,
Patient, though sorely tried!
LONGFELLOW: _Goblet of Life._


Give me the lowest place: or if for me
That lowest place too high, make one more low
Where I may sit and see
My God and love Thee so.
CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI: _The Lowest Place._


The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,
And wretches hang that jurymen may dine.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., Line 21.

Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Winter,_ Line 393.


The healthy huntsman, with a cheerful horn,
Summons the dogs and greets the dappled Morn.
The jocund thunder wakes the enliven'd hounds,
They rouse from sleep, and answer sounds for sounds.
GAY: _Rural Sports,_ Canto ii., Line 96.


As the husband is, the wife is; thou art mated with a clown,
And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ St. 24.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet
To think how monie counsels sweet,
How monie lengthened sage advices,
The husband frae the wife despises.
BURNS: _Tam O'Shanter._


            This outward-sainted deputy,--
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth emmew
As falcon doth the fowl,--is yet a devil.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Neither man nor angel can discern
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,
By His permissive will, through Heaven and Earth.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iii., Line 682.

The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood
In naked ugliness. He was a man
Who stole the livery of the court of heaven
To serve the devil in.
POLLOK: _Course of Time,_ Pt. viii., Line 615.



Yon foaming flood seems motionless as ice;
Its dizzy turbulence eludes the eye,
Frozen by distance.
WORDSWORTH: _Address to Kilchurn Castle._


Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 1149.


Absence of occupation is not rest,
A mind quite vacant is a mind distress'd.
COWPER: _Retirement,_ Line 623.


      Ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act iv., Sc. 7.

From ignorance our comfort flows,
The only wretched are the wise.
PRIOR: _To Hon. C. Montague._

                Where ignorance is bliss
'Tis folly to be wise.
GRAY: _Ode on Eton College._


Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
BURNS: _Tam O'Shanter._

There mark what ills the scholar's life assail,--
Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
DR. JOHNSON: _Van. of Human Wishes,_ Line 159.


The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Imagination is the air of mind.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Another and a Better World._

But thou that didst appear so fair
  To fond imagination,
Dost rival in the light of day
  Her delicate creation.
WORDSWORTH: _Yarrow Visited._


It must be so, Plato, thou reasonest well!--
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

              Where music dwells
Lingering and wandering on as loth to die,
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof
That they were born for immortality.
WORDSWORTH: _Ecclesiastical Sonnets,_ Pt. iii., xliii.


And what's impossible can't be,
And never, never comes to pass.
COLMAN, JR.: _Maid of the Moor._


For he that has but impudence,
To all things has a fair pretence;
And, put among his wants but shame,
To all the world may lay his claim.
BUTLER: _Misc. Thoughts,_ Line 17.


Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and one on shore;
To one thing constant never.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act ii., Sc. 3, _Song._

There are three things a wise man will not trust--
The wind, the sunshine of an April day,
And woman's plighted faith.
SOUTHEY: _Madoc,_ Pt. ii., _Caradoc and Senena,_ Line 51.


Thy spirit, Independence, let me share;
Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye,
Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
SMOLLETT: _Ode to Independence._

Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies!
JOSEPH HOPKINSON: _Hail, Columbia!_


What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Let ev'ry man enjoy his whim;
What's he to me, or I to him?
CHURCHILL: _Ghost,_ Bk. iv., Line 215.


Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heav'n convey'd,
And bade it blossom there.
COLERIDGE: _Epitaph on an Infant._


      If man loses all, when life is lost,
He lives a coward, or a fool expires.
A daring infidel (and such there are,
From pride, example, lucre, rage, revenge,
Or pure heroical defect of thought,)
Of all earth's madmen, most deserves a chain.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night vii., Line 199.


              No life
Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife,
And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto vi., St. 40.

        Ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 121.


I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.
SHAKS.: _Tw. Night,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child,
Than the sea-monster!
SHAKS.: _King Lear,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child.
SHAKS.: _King Lear,_ Act i., Sc. 4.


Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn.
BURNS: _Man was Made to Mourn._


Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found,
The warmest welcome at an inn.
SHENSTONE: _Lines on Window of Inn at Henley._


The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

An age that melts in unperceiv'd decay,
And glides in modest innocence away.
DR. JOHNSON: _Van. of Human Wishes,_ Line 293.


Then vainly the philosopher avers
That reason guides our deeds, and instinct theirs.
How can we justly different causes frame,
When the effects entirely are the same?
Instinct and reason how can we divide?
'Tis the fool's ignorance, and the pedant's pride.
PRIOR: _Solomon on the V-of the World,_ Bk. i., Line 231.


Th' invention all admir'd, and each how he
To be th' inventor miss'd; so easy it seem'd,
Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vi., Line 498.


Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Canto iii., Line 1.

=Isle, Isles.=

Some unsuspected isle in far-off seas.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Pippa Passes,_ Pt. ii.

              The sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.


Italia! O Italia! thou who hast
The fatal gift of beauty, which became
A funeral dower of present woes and past,
On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame,
And annals graved in characters of flame.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 4.

Italy, my Italy!
Queen Mary's saying serves for me
  (When fortune's malice
  Lost her Calais):
"Open my heart, and you will see
Graved inside of it 'Italy.'"
ROBERT BROWNING: _De Gustibus,_ ii.


Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green,
   That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
   In his cell so lone and cold.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green.
DICKENS: _Pickwick Papers,_ Ch. 6.



Then came old January, wrappèd well
   In many weeds to keep the cold away;
Yet did he quake and quiver like to quell,
   And blow his nails to warm them if he may.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. vii., Canto vii., St. 42.


     O beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

     No true love there can be without
Its dread penalty--jealousy.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto i., St. 24

          Nor jealousy
Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. v., Line 449.


A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Of all the griefs that harass the distrest,
Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest.
DR. JOHNSON: _London,_ Line 166.


It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


A college joke to cure the dumps.
SWIFT: _Cassinus and Peter._


          Capacity for joy
Admits temptation.
MRS. BROWNING: _Aurora Leigh,_ Bk. i., Line 703.

Joy is the mainspring in the whole
Of endless Nature's calm rotation.
Joy moves the dazzling wheels that roll
In the great Time-piece of Creation.
SCHILLER: _Hymn to Joy_

Joys too exquisite to last,
And yet _more_ exquisite when past.
JAMES MONTGOMERY: _The Little Cloud._


A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Then came hot July, boiling like to fire,
That all his garments he had cast away.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. vii., Canto vii., St. 36.


And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Vision of Sir Launfal._


The jury, passing on the prisoner's life,
May, in the sworn twelve, have a thief or two
Guiltier than him they try.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Do not your juries give their verdict
As if they felt the cause, not heard it?
And as they please make matter of fact
Run all on one side as they're packt.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., Line 365.


          And then, the justice;
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Fall of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

          The gods
Grow angry with your patience: 't is their care,
And must be yours, that guilty men escape not:
As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself.
BEN JONSON: _Catiline,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice
LONGFELLOW: _Evangeline,_ Pt. I., iii., Line 34.



Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).
MILTON: _Lycidas,_ Line 109.


A little more than kin, and less than kind.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
Shall win my love.
SHAKS.: _Tam. of the S.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

       That best portion of a good man's life,--
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.
WORDSWORTH: _Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey._


What have kings that privates have not too,
Save ceremony?
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Kings are like stars,--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.
SHELLEY: _Hellas,_ Line 195.

Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 1.


          Then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

          When my lips meet thine
Thy very soul is wedded unto mine.
H.H. BOYESEN: _Thy Gracious Face I Greet with Glad Surprise._

Her mouth's culled sweetness by thy kisses shed
On cheeks and neck and eyelids, and so led
Back to her mouth which answers there for all.
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI: _Love-Sweetness,_ Sonnet xiii.

I rest content, I kiss your eyes,
I kiss your hair, in my delight:
I kiss my hand, and say, Good night.
JOAQUIN MILLER: _Isles of the Amazons,_ Pt. v.

One kiss--and then another--and another--
Till 't is too late to go--and so return.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act ii., Sc. 10.

Dear as remember'd kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
On lips that are for others.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iv., Line 36.


There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he's an arrant knave.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

Whip me such honest knaves.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
WILLIAM COLLINS: _Lines in 1746._

Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell,
Or smil'd when a Sabbath appear'd.
COWPER: _Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk._


      Knowledge is as food, and needs no less
Her temp'rance over appetite, to know
In measure what the mind may well contain;
Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns
Wisdom to folly.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vii., Line 126.

All our knowledge is, ourselves to know.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 397.

_I know_--is all the mourner saith,
Knowledge by suffering entereth;
And Life is perfected by Death!
MRS. BROWNING: _Vision of Poets,_ St. 330.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ Line 141.

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 13.

            Oh, be wiser thou!
Instructed that true knowledge leads to love.
WORDSWORTH: _Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree._



            I have seen a swan
With bootless labor swim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Labor, you know, is Prayer.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _Improvisations,_ St. 11.

          Taste the joy
That springs from labor.
LONGFELLOW: _Masque of Pandora,_ Pt. vi.

To fall'n humanity our Father said,
That food and bliss should not be found unsought;
That man should labor for his daily bread;
But not that man should toil and sweat for nought.

To labor is the lot of man below;
And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. x., Line 78.


Ladies, like variegated tulips, show
'T is to their changes half their charms we owe.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 41.


On thy fair bosom, silver lake,
  The wild swan spreads his snowy sail,
And round his breast the ripples break
  As down he bears before the gale.
JAMES G. PERCIVAL: _To Seneca Lake._


Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said
This is my own, my native land!
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto vi., St. 1.

O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child!
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood;
Land of the mountain and the flood!
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto vi., St. 2.


        The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 490.

Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landscape tire the view?
JOHN DYER: _Grongar Hill,_ Line 102.


          Fit language there is none
For the heart's deepest things.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Legend of Brittany,_ Pt. i., St. 28.

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
  One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
  Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
LONGFELLOW: _Flowers._


          Now hear the lark,
The herald of the morn; ... whose notes do beat
The vaulty heavens, so high above our heads, ...
Some say the lark makes sweet division.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act iii., Sc. 5.

          And now the herald lark
Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry
The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. ii., Line 279


A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
LADY NAIRNE: _The Laird o' Cockpen._


            That soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth.
BYRON: _Beppo,_ St. 44.


Laughter, holding both his sides.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 32.

Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,
And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the skies.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. i., Line 770.


In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being seasoned with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil?
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 386.

And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
  O'er thrones and globes elate,
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
SIR WILLIAM JONES: _Ode in Im. of Alcoeus._


            My way of life
Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
JOHN WEBSTER: _The White Devil,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,--
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. vi., Line 181.


"The thrice three Muses mourning for the death
Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary,"--
That is some satire, keen and critical.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

              Learning unrefin'd,
That oft enlightens to corrupt the mind.
FALCONER: _Shipwreck,_ Canto i., Line 166.

Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote,
And think they grow immortal as they quote.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire i., Line 89.


Loan oft loses both itself and friend.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take
A breed of barren metal of his friend?)
But lend it rather to thine enemy;
Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalties.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive, and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night.
MRS. BROWNING: _Sonnets fr. Portuguese,_ Sonnet xxviii.

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!
LONGFELLOW: _Dedication to Seaside and Fireside,_ St. 5.

You have the letters Cadmus gave,--
Think ye he meant them for a slave?.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 86. 10.


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

          In liberty's defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe rings from side to side;
This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask,
Content, though blind--had I no better guide.
MILTON: Sonnet xxii., _To Cyriack Skinner._

          When liberty is gone,
Life grows insipid and has lost its relish.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

          Liberty, like day,
Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from Heaven
Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. v., Line 882.

Liberty 's in every blow!
  Let us do or die.
BURNS: _Bannockburn._

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 36.


You told a lie; an odious, damned lie:
Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie;
A fault which needs it most, grows two thereby.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 13.


Life's 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 tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest,
Live well; how long or short, permit to Heav'n.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. xi., Line 553.

                Must we count
Life a curse and not a blessing, summed-up in its whole amount,
Help and hindrance, joy and sorrow?
ROBERT BROWNING: _La Saisiaz,_ Line 206.

Between two worlds, life hovers like a star
'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xv., St. 99.

Our life is scarce the twinkle of a star
In God's eternal day.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _Autumnal Vespers._

Life is the gift of God, and is divine.
LONGFELLOW: _T. of a Wayside Inn,_ Emma and Eginhard.

What is life? A thawing iceboard
  On a sea with sunny shore:
Gay we sail; it melts beneath us;
  We are sunk and seen no more.
CARLYLE: _Cui Bono._

          Life's a vast sea
That does its mighty errand without fail,
Panting in unchanged strength though waves are changing.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iii.

Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold:
Not all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold,
Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway,
Can bribe the poor possession of a day.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. ix., Line 524.

So careful of the type she seems,
So careless of the single life.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ lv., St. 2.


Hail, holy Light! offspring of Heaven first-born!
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam,
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in unapproachèd light
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate!
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iii., Line 1.

But yet the light that led astray
    Was light from heaven.
BURNS: _The Vision._

The light that never was, on sea or land;
The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
WORDSWORTH: _Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm,_ St. 4.

Light, light, and light! to break and melt in sunder
  All clouds and chains that in one bondage bind
Eyes, hands, and spirits, forged by fear and wonder
  And sleek fierce fraud with hidden knife behind.
SWINBURNE: _Eve of Revolution,_ St. 10.


Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


              Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head and perish.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

    In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 859.

=Lincoln, Abraham.=

This man, whose homely face you look upon,
Was one of Nature's masterful, great men;
Born with strong arms, that unfought battles won
Direct of speech, and cunning with the pen.
Chosen for large designs, he had the art
Of winning with his humor, and he went
Straight to his mark, which was the human heart;
Wise, too, for what he could not break he bent.
Upon his back a more than Atlas-load,--
The burden of the Commonwealth,--was laid;
He stooped, and rose up to it, though the road
Shot suddenly downwards, not a whit dismayed.
Hold, warriors, councillors, kings! All now give place
To this dear benefactor of the Race.
R.H. STODDARD: _Abraham Lincoln._


Marlowe's mighty line.
BEN JONSON: _To the Memory of Shakespeare._

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
SCOTT: _Marmion, Introduction to Canto i._


The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,
And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o'erpowered.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Her lips are roses over-washed with dew,
Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower;
No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power,
But by her breath her beauties do renew.
ROBERT GREENE: _From Menaphon. Menaphon's Ecl._


Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.
BURNS: _Contented wi' Little._

Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.
GOLDSMITH: _The Hermit,_ Ch. viii., St. 8.


Thou canst not say I did it; never shake
Thy gory locks at me.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

John Anderson my jo, John,
  When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
  Your bonny brow was brent.
BURNS: _John Anderson._


He was in logic a great critic,
Profoundly skill'd in analytic;
He could distinguish and divide
A hair 'twixt south and south-west side.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 65.


London! the needy villain's general home,
The common-sewer of Paris and of Rome!
With eager thirst, by folly or by fate,
Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.
DR. JOHNSON: _London,_ Line 83.


                    I have
Immortal longings in me.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


    My only books
    Were woman's looks,--
And folly 's all they've taught me.
MOORE: _The Time I've Lost in Wooing._

Where village statesmen talk'd with looks profound,
And news much older than their ale went round.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 223.


Lord of himself,--that heritage of woe!
BYRON: _Lara,_ Canto i., St. 2.

Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
WOTTON: _Character of a Happy Life._


That loss is common would not make
    My own less bitter--rather more;
    Too common! Never morning wore
To evening but some heart did break.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. vi., St. 2.


O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Love is a spirit all compact of fire;
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.
SHAKS.: _Venus and A.,_ Line 149.

Such is the power of that sweet passion,
That it all sordid baseness doth expel,
And the refined mind doth newly fashion
Unto a fairer form, which now doth dwell
In his high thought, that would itself excel;
Which he, beholding still with constant sight,
Admires the mirror of so heavenly light.
SPENSER: _Hymn in Honor of Love._

How could I tell I should love thee to-day,
  Whom that day I held not dear?
How could I know I should love thee away
  When I did not love thee anear?
JEAN INGELOW: _Supper at the Mill._ _Song._

Instruct me now what love will do;
'T will make a tongueless man to woo.
Inform me next what love will do;
'T will strangely make a one of two.
Teach me besides what love will do;
'T will quickly mar and make ye too.
Tell me, now last, what love will do;
'T will hurt and heal a heart pierc'd through.
SIR JOHN SUCKLING: _Aph. of Love._

    Love is the only good in the world.
Henceforth be loved as heart can love,
Or brain devise, or hand approve.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Flight of the Duchess,_ Pt. xv.

Mutual love brings mutual delight--
Brings beauty, life; for love is life, hate, death.
R.H. DANA: _The Dying Raven._

Let those love now, who never loved before,
Let those who always loved, now love the more.
PARNELL: _Trans. of Pervigilium Veneris._

Love, well thou know'st, no partnership allows:
Cupid averse rejects divided vows.
PRIOR: _Henry and Emma,_ Line 590.

And love, life's fine centre, includes heart and mind.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto i., St. 17.

I hold it true, whate'er befall,
    I feel it when I sorrow most;
    'T is better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. xxvii., St. 4.

Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met, or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
BURNS: _Song, Ae Fond Kiss._

Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is--Love, forgive us! cinders, ashes, dust.
KEATS: _Lamia,_ Pt. ii., Line 1.

Why did she love him? Curious fool! be still;
Is human love the growth of human will?
BYRON: _Lara,_ Canto ii., St. 22.

There is no pleasure like the pain
Of being loved, and loving.
PRAED: _Legend of the Haunted Tree._

Man's love is of man's life a thing apart,
'T is woman's whole existence.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 194.

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed;
In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;
In halls, in gay attire is seen;
In hamlets, dances on the green;
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below, and saints above;
For love is heaven and heaven is love.
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto iii., St. 2.

True love is at home on a carpet,
And mightily likes his ease,--
And true love has an eye for a dinner,
And starves beneath shady trees.
His wing is the fan of a lady,
His foot's an invisible thing,
And his arrow is tipp'd with a jewel,
And shot from a silver string.
WILLIS: _Love in a Cottage._

What is love? 't is nature's treasure,
'T is the storehouse of her joys;
'T is the highest heaven of pleasure,
'T is a bliss which never cloys.
THOMAS CHATTERTON: _The Revenge,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


O Luxury! thou curs'd by heaven's decree,
How ill-exchang'd are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with insidious joy,
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 395.

Blest hour! it was a luxury--to be!
COLERIDGE: _Reflections on Having Left a Place of Retirement._



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

Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

And moody madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.
GRAY: _On a Distant Prospect of Eton College._


O, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

            Man is one world, and hath.
Another to attend him.
HERBERT: _The Temple._ _Man._

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,
The proper study of mankind is Man.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 1.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a' that?
Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that!
BURNS: _For a' That and a' That._

Man is a summer's day; whose youth and fire
Cool to a glorious evening, and expire.
HENRY VAUGHAN: _Rules and Lessons._

Beyond the poet's sweet dream lives
The eternal epic of the man.
WHITTIER: _The Grave by the Lake,_ St. 34.

What is man? A foolish baby;
Vainly strives, and fights, and frets:
Demanding all, deserving nothing,
One small grave is all he gets.
CARLYLE: _Cui Bono._


Fit for the mountains and the barb'rous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd.
SHAKS.: _Tw. Night,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Manners with fortunes, humors turn with climes,
Tenets with books, and principles with times.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. i., Line 172.


And sleep in dull cold marble.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

                  All your better deeds
Shall be in water writ, but this in marble.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Philaster,_ Act v., Sc. 3.


The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and clouds, and changing skies;
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valleys flies.

            Ah, March! we know thou art
Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats,
And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets!
HELEN HUNT: _March._


The ancient saying is no heresy;--
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act ii, Sc. 9.

Marriage is a matter of more worth
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

The joys of marriage are the heaven on earth,
Life's paradise, great princess, the soul's quiet,
Sinews of concord, earthly immortality,
Eternity of pleasures.
FORD: _Broken Heart,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Hail, wedded love! mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 750.

Marriage is the life-long miracle,
The self-begetting wonder, daily fresh.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act ii., Sc. 9.


Life has its martyrs, as brave, as strong, and as faithful,
E'en as the martyrs of death.
H.H. BOYESEN: _Calpurnia,_ Pt. iv.

A pale martyr in his shirt of fire.
ALEXANDER SMITH: _A Life Drama,_ Sc. 2.


We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly followed.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
And proved it,--'t was no matter what he said.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xi., St. 1.


The voice of one who goes before, to make
The paths of June more beautiful, is thine,
Sweet May!

                The new-born May,
As cradled yet in April's lap she lay.
Born in yon blaze of orient sky,
Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold,
Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,
And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.
ERASMUS DARWIN: _L. of the Plants,_ Canto ii., Line 307.

Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who, from her green lap, throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
MILTON: _Song on May Morning._


It gives me wonder, great as my content,
To see you here before me.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Each hour until we meet is as a bird
That wings from far his gradual way along
The rustling covert of my soul,--his song
Still loudlier trilled through leaves more deeply stirr'd:
But at the hour of meeting, a clear word
Is every note he sings, in Love's own tongue.
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI: _Winged Hours,_ Sonnet xv.


There 's such a charm in melancholy.
ROGERS: _To ----._

These pleasures, Melancholy, give;
And I with thee will choose to live.
MILTON: _Il Penseroso,_ Line 175.

Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
GRAY: _Elegy, The Epitaph._


And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!
ROGERS: _Human Life._


              Remember thee?
Yea, from the table of my memory
I 'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5

The eyes of memory will not sleep,
  Its ears are open still,
And vigils with the past they keep
  Against my feeble will.
WHITTIER: _Knight of St. John._

Tho' lost to sight, to mem'ry dear
  Thou ever wilt remain.


Men are but children of a larger growth.
DRYDEN: _All for Love,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercy ever hope to have?
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. v., Canto ii., St. 42.


Be thou the first true merit to befriend;
His praise is lost, who stays till all commend.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. ii., Line 274.


The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:--
Lovers to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

      Midnight brought on the dusky hour
Friendliest to sleep and silence.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. v., Line 667.

'T is midnight now. The bent and broken moon,
Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles,
Hangs silent on the purple walls of heaven.


    That mighty orb of song,
The divine Milton.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. i.


The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 254.

Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 3.

Though man a thinking being is defined,
Few use the grand prerogative of mind.
JANE TAYLOR: _Essays in Rhyme,_ Essay i., St. 45.

My mind to me a kingdom is;
  Such present joys therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss
  That earth affords or grows by kind.
EDWARD DYER: _Ms. Rawl.,_ 85, p. 17.


          More merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

      Come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In heav'n yclept Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 11.

As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
BURNS: _Tam o' Shanter._


          O, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

When to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., St. 125.


Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. v., Line 572.


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

As if Misfortune made the throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy but the great.
NICHOLAS ROWE: _Fair Penitent. Prologue._


You have many enemies that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

                The rabble all alive,
From tippling benches, cellars, stalls, and sties,
Swarm in the streets.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. vi., Line 704.


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


Her looks do argue her replete with modesty.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

                  Such an act
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


A morsel for a monarch.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate
Of mighty monarchs.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Summer,_ Line 1285.


            This yellow slave
Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench.
SHAKS.: _Timon of A.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

He had rolled in money like pigs in mud.
Hood: _Miss Kilmansegg._

'T is true we've money, th' only power
That all mankind falls down before.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 1327.

Get money; still get money, boy,
No matter by what means.
BEN JONSON: _Every Man in His Humour,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.


Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting February alone:
Which hath but twenty-eight, in fine,
Till leap year gives it twenty-nine.
_Common in the New England States._


Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.
SHAKS.: _Sonnet 55._


                Anon they move
In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i. Line 549.

Fantastic as a woman's mood,
And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.
SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake,_ Canto v., St. 30.


              Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 604.

How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon
From the slow opening curtains of the clouds;
Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!

The moon had climb'd the highest hill
   Which rises o'er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit shed
   Her silver light on tower and tree.
JOHN LOWE: _Mary's Dream._


Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires.
POPE: _Dunciad,_ Bk. iv., Line 649.


See how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 641.

Night wanes--the vapors round the mountains curl'd
Melt into morn, and light awakes the world.
BYRON: _Lara,_ Canto ii., St. 1.

The moon is carried off in purple fire:
Day breaks at last.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Return of the Druses,_ Act i.

Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high.
WATTS: _Psalm_ v.


    All, that in this world is great or gay,
Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
SPENSER: _Ruins of Time,_ Line 55.

We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.


                  A woman's love
Is mighty, but a mother's heart is weak,
And by its weakness overcomes.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Legend of Brittany,_ Pt. ii., St. 43.

A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
COLERIDGE: _The Three Graves._


I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives
First when he visits, last, too, when he leaves
The world; and, vainly favored, it repays
The day-long glory of his steadfast gaze
By no change of its large calm front of snow.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Rudel To The Lady of Tripoli._

                      And to me
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
Of human cities torture.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 72.


I mount and mount toward the sky,
The eagle's heart is mine,
I ride to put the clouds a-by
Where silver lakelets shine.
The roaring streams wax white with snow,
The eagle's nest draws near,
The blue sky widens, hid peaks glow,
The air is frosty clear.
And so from cliff to cliff I rise,
The eagle's heart is mine;
Above me ever broadning skies,
Below the rivers shine.


              We must all die!
All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when,
Nor how, so we die well: and can that man that does so
Need lamentation for him?
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Valentinian,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.

Ah, surely nothing dies but something mourns.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 108.


Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

Murder may pass unpunish'd for a time,
But tardy justice will o'ertake the crime.
DRYDEN: _Cock and Fox,_ Line 285.


The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

            Music's golden tongue
Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor.
KEATS: _Eve of St. Agnes,_ St. 3.

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast,
To soften rocks, or bend the knotted oak;
I've read that things inanimate have mov'd,
And, as with living souls, have been inform'd,
By magic numbers and persuasive sound.
CONGREVE: _Mourning Bride,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Music the fiercest grief can charm,
And fate's severest rage disarm.
Music can soften pain to ease,
And make despair and madness please;
Our joys below it can improve,
And antedate the bliss above.
POPE: _Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,_ St. 7.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young,
While yet in early Greece she sung,
The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng'd around her magic cell,
Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,
Possest beyond the Muse's painting.
COLLINS: _The Passions,_ Line 1.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell,
Till wak'd and kindled by the master's spell,
And feeling hearts--touch them but rightly--pour
A thousand melodies unheard before.
ROGERS: _Human Life,_ Line 362.

A few can touch the magic string,
  And noisy Fame is proud to win them;
Alas for those that never sing,
  But die with all their music in them!



What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Who hath not owned, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name?
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 5.


Nature ever yields reward
To him who seeks, and loves her best.
BARRY CORNWALL: _Above and Below._

      O Nature, how fair is thy face,
And how light is thy heart, and how friendless thy grace!
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto v., St. 28.

    To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware.


        The first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Evil news rides post, while good news baits.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 1538.

Turn to the press--its teeming sheets survey,
Big with the wonders of each passing day;
Births, deaths, and weddings, forgeries, fires, and wrecks,
Harangues and hailstones, brawls and broken necks.
SPRAGUE: _Curiosity._


Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night:
God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light.
POPE: _Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Newton._

Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas!
Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent,
That he himself felt only "like a youth
Picking up shells by the great ocean--Truth."
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto vii., St. 5.

=New Year.=

The wave is breaking on the shore,--
The echo fading from the chime--
Again the shadow moveth o'er
The dial-plate of time!
WHITTIER: _The New Year._


Flow on for ever in thy glorious robe
Of terror and of beauty; ... God hath set
His rainbow on thy forehead; and the cloud
Mantles around thy feet.
MRS. SIGOURNEY: _Niagara._


Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

              Now began
Night with her sullen wing to double-shade
The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd,
And now wild beasts came forth, the woods to roam.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. i., Line 409.

      Awful Night!
Ancestral mystery of mysteries.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iv.

Night, night it is, night upon the palms.
Night, night it is, the land wind has blown.
Starry, starry night, over deep and height;
Love, love in the valley, love all alone.
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON: _The Feast of Famine._

Night is the time to weep,
  To wet with unseen tears
Those graves of memory where sleep
  The joys of other years.
JAMES MONTGOMERY: _The Issues of Life and Death._


The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise, and true perfection!
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill.
MILTON: _Sonnet 1._


Noble by birth, yet nobler by great deeds.
LONGFELLOW: _Tales of a Wayside Inn. Emma and Eginhard._

For he who is honest is noble,
Whatever his fortunes or birth.
ALICE CARY: _Nobility._


Ask where's the north? at York, 't is on the Tweed;
In Scotland, at the Orcades; and there,
At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 222.


Next was November; he full gross and fat
As fed with lard, and that right well might seem;
For he had been a-fatting hogs of late,
That yet his brows with sweat did reek and steam.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. vii., Canto vii., St. 40.

In rattling showers dark November's rain,
From every stormy cloud, descends amain.
RUSKIN: _The Months._


As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,
I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 127.



Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,
Dream, and so dream all night without a stir.
KEATS: _Hyperion,_ Bk. i.

A song to the oak, the brave old oak,
Who hath ruled in the greenwood long!
HENRY F. CHORLEY: _The Brave Old Oak._


          The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


'T is not the many oaths that make the truth;
But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
SHAKS.: _All 's Well,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

Oaths were not purpos'd, more than law,
To keep the good and just in awe,
But to confine the bad and sinful,
Like moral cattle, in a pinfold.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., Line 197.


Let them obey that know not how to rule.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Obedience is the Christian's crown.
SCHILLER: _Fight with the Dragon,_ St. 24.


For he is but a bastard to the time
That doth not smack of observation.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 179.

        One height
Showed him the ocean, stretched in liquid light,
And he could hear its multitudinous roar,
Its plunge and hiss upon the pebbled shore.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Legend of Jubal,_ Line 506.


The sweet calm sunshine of October, now
Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mould
The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough
Drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.

October's foliage yellows with his cold.
RUSKIN: _The Months._


In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear his comment.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

And love the offender, yet detest the offence.
POPE: _Eloisa to A.,_ Line 192.

=Old Age.=

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility:
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

When he is forsaken,
Withered and shaken,
What can an old man do but die?
HOOD: _Ballad._


Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan
The outward habit by the inward man.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto iii., Line 547.


O Opportunity! thy guilt is great:
'T is thou that execut'st the traitor's treason;
Thou sett'st the wolf where he the lamb may get;
Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season;
'T is thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason.
SHAKS.: _R. of Lucrece,_ Line 876.


        I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Thence to the famous orators repair,
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democracy,
Shook the Arsenal, and fulmined over Greece,
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 267.


Order is heav'n's first law; and this confest,
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest,
More rich, more wise; but who infers from hence
That such are happier, shocks all common sense.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 49.


Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
To a most dangerous sea.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern'st good-night.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.



Pain pays the income of each precious thing.
SHAKS.: _R. of Lucrece,_ Line 334.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.
MARGARET J. PRESTON: _Sonnet._ _Nature's Lesson._

    The sad mechanic exercise
Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam, Prologue,_ v., St. 2.


With hue like that when some great painter dips
His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse.
SHELLEY: _Revolt of Islam,_ Canto v., St. 23.


No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung;
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
HEBER: _Palestine._


And they heard the words it said,--
"Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
  Pan, Pan is dead!"
MRS. BROWNING: _The Dead Pan._


And even the pang preceding death
    Bids expectation rise.
GOLDSMITH: _The Captivity,_ Act ii.


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


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


Great families of yesterday we show,
And lords, whose parents were the Lord knows who.
DEFOE: _True-Born Englishman,_ Pt. i., Line 1.


            What! gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

            They who go
Feel not the pain of parting; it is they
Who stay behind that suffer.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. I., i.

Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 10.


Fountain heads and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves.
JOHN FLETCHER: _The Nice Valour,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

Passions are likened best to floods and streams:
The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb.

=Past, The.=

Over the trackless past, somewhere,
Lie the lost days of our tropic youth,
Only regained by faith and prayer,
Only recalled by prayer and plaint:
Each lost day has its patron saint.
BRET HARTE: _The Lost Galleon,_ Last St.

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _Chambered Nautilus._


How poor are they, that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal, but by degrees?
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

    Patience is more oft the exercise
Of saints, the trial of their fortitude,
Making them each his own deliverer,
And victor over all
That tyranny or fortune can inflict.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 1287.

        Patience is a plant
That grows not in all gardens.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. ii., 4.

There are times when patience proves at fault.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 3.


Strike--for your altars and your fires;
Strike--for the green graves of your sires;
God, and your native land!
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: _Marco Bozzaris._

One flag, one land, one heart, one hand,
One Nation evermore!
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _Voyage of the Good Ship Union._

My country, 't is of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,--
    Of thee I sing:
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain side
    Let freedom ring.
SAMUEL F. SMITH: _National Hymn._

        Sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
LONGFELLOW: _Building of the Ship._


A peace is of the nature of a conquest;
For then both parties nobly are subdued,
And neither party loser.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Why prate of peace? when, warriors all,
We clank in harness into hall,
And ever bare upon the board
Lies the necessary sword.

    Peace hath her victories,
No less renowned than war.
MILTON: Sonnet xvi.

Peace was on the earth and in the air.


Go boldly forth, my simple lay,
Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like orient pearls at random strung.
SIR WILLIAM JONES: _A Persian Song of Hafiz._


Beneath the rule of men entirely great,
The pen is mightier than the sword.
BULWER-LYTTON: _Richelieu,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

This dull product of a scoffer's pen.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. ii.


And what the people but a herd confus'd,
A miscellaneous rabble, who extol
Things vulgar, and, well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise?
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iii., Line 49.


One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


            At lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


              Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honor bright. To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


He from whose lips divine persuasion flows.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. vii., Line 143.


Petition me no petitions, sir, to-day;
Let other hours be set apart for business.
FIELDING: _Tom Thumb the Great,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


How charming is divine Philosophy!
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 476.


Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

            Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel.
SHAKS.: _King Lear,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


Why should not piety be made,
As well as equity, a trade,
And men get money by devotion,
As well as making of a motion?
BUTLER: _Misc. Thoughts,_ Line 295.


Oh pilot, 'tis a fearful night!
    There's danger on the deep.


Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines.
COLERIDGE: _Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni._


Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe
When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe.
BYRON: _The Island,_ Canto ii., St. 19.


    Pity is the virtue of the law,
And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
SHAKS.: _Timon of A.,_ Act iii., Sc. 5.

Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 161.


The fittest place where man can die
    Is where he dies for man!
MICHAEL J. BARRY: _The Dublin Nation, Sept. 28, 1844._


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


                Pleasure, and revenge,
Have ears more deaf than adders, to the voice
Of any true decision.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

But not e'en pleasure to excess is good:
What most elates, then sinks the soul as low.
THOMSON: _Castle of Indolence,_ Canto i., St. 63.

Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain.
ROBERT BROWNING: _La Saisiaz,_ Line 170.

But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed.
BURNS: _Tam o' Shanter._

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures.
DRYDEN: _Alex. Feast,_ Line 97.


It is not poetry that makes men poor;
For few do write that were not so before.
BUTLER: _Misc. Thoughts,_ Line 441.

A verse may find him who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 1.

Poets are all who love, who feel great truths,
And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Another and a Better World._

                The poor poet
Worships without reward, nor hopes to find
A heaven save in his worship.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. i.

    God is the PERFECT POET,
Who in creation acts his own conceptions.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 2.

Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,
And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
KEATS: _Epis. to George Felton Mathews._

Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares.--
The poets who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight, by heavenly lays.
WORDSWORTH: _Personal Talk._


True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun.


Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time,
  So "Bonnie Doon" but tarry;
Blot out the epic's stately rhyme,
  But spare his "Highland Mary"!
WHITTIER: _Lines on Burns_


As full-blown poppies, overcharg'd with rain,
Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain,--
So sinks the youth.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. viii., Line 371.


O, he sits high in all the people's hearts:
And that, which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchymy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Bareheaded, popularly low he bow'd,
And paid the salutations of the crowd.
DRYDEN: _Palamon and Arcite,_ Bk. iii., Line 689.


    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 find
The virtue that possession would not show us
Whiles it was ours.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Possession means to sit astride of the world,
Instead of having it astride of you.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


My poverty, but not my will, consents.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

If we from wealth to poverty descend,
Want gives to know the flatterer from the friend.
DRYDEN: _Wife of Bath,_ Line 485.

        Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong.
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
SHELLEY: _Julian and Maddalo._

In ev'ry sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xvii., Line 505.


What can power give more than food and drink,
To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
DRYDEN: _Medal,_ Line 235.

            The good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,
That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can.
WORDSWORTH: _Rob Roy's Grave._


Far in the East like low-hung clouds
  The waving woodlands lie;
Far in the West the glowing plain
  Melts warmly in the sky.
No accent wounds the reverent air,--
  No footprint dints the sod,--
Low in the light the prairie lies
  Rapt in a dream of God.
JOHN HAY: _The Prairie._


          Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear.
SHAKS.: _All 's Well,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 201.


Let never day nor night unhallowed pass,
But still remember what the Lord hath done.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

            If by prayer
Incessant I could hope to change the will
Of him who all things can, I would not cease
To weary him with my assiduous cries;
But prayer against his absolute decree
No more avails than breath against the wind
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth:
Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. xi., Line 307.

He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
COLERIDGE: _Ancient Mariner,_ Pt. vii.

God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,
And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face,
A gauntlet with a gift in 't.
MRS. BROWNING: _Aurora Leigh,_ Bk. ii.

          More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of.
TENNYSON: _Morte d'Arthur,_ Line 247.


I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.
RICHARD BAXTER: _Love Breathing Thanks and Praise._


The Present, the Present is all thou hast
For thy sure possessing;
Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast
Till it gives its blessing.
WHITTIER: _My Soul and I,_ St. 34.


Here shall the Press the People's right maintain,
Unaw'd by influence and unbrib'd by gain.
JOSEPH STORY: _Motto of the "Salem Register."_


              Pride hath no other glass
To show itself, but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
SHAKS.: _Troil. and Cress.,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin
    Is pride that apes humility.
COLERIDGE: _The Devil's Thoughts._


No nightly trance or breathèd spell
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
MILTON: _Hymn on Christ's Nativity,_ Line 173.


A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.
WORDSWORTH: _Peter Bell,_ Pt. i., St. 12.


Blest be the gracious Power, who taught mankind
To stamp a lasting image of the mind!
CRABBE: _The Library,_ Line 69.

Some said, "John, print it"; others said, "Not so."
Some said, "It might do good"; others said, "No."
BUNYAN: _Pilgrim's Progress, Apology for his Book._


Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet, take
That for an hermitage.
LOVELACE: _To Althea, from Prison,_ iv.


Procrastination is the thief of time:
Year after year it steals, till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night i., Line 393.


          When these prodigies
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
"These are their reasons,--They are natural;"
For, I believe, they are portentous things
Unto the climate that they point upon.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ St. 69.


And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense:
That keep the word of promise to our ear
And break it to our hope.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 8.


            Give me the ocular proof;
       *       *       *       *       *
Make me to see 't; or, at the least, so prove it,
That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,
To hang a doubt on.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


Coming events cast their shadows before.
CAMPBELL: _Lochiel's Warning._

Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life,
The evening beam that smiles the cloud away,
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!
BYRON: _Bride of Ab.,_ Canto ii., St. 20.


And he whose fustian's so sublimely bad,
It is not poetry, but prose run mad.
POPE: _Prol. to Satires,_ Line 186.

And Sidney, warbler of poetic prose.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. iv., Line 514.


The greatest saints and sinners have been made
Of proselytes of one another's trade.
BUTLER: _Misc. Thoughts,_ Line 315.


As distant prospects please us, but when near
We find but desert rocks and fleeting air.
SAMUEL GARTH: _Dispensatory,_ Canto iii., Line 27.


Prosperity's the very bond of love;
Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together
Affliction alters.
SHAKS.: _Wint. Tale,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Surer to prosper than prosperity
Could have assured us.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 39.


There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

            What in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That, to the height of this great argument,
I may assert Eternal Providence
And justify the ways of God to men.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 22.

Who finds not Providence all good and wise,
Alike in what it gives, and what denies?
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 205.

'T is Providence alone secures
In every change both mine and yours.
COWPER: _A Fable. Moral._


Henceforth His might we know, and know our own,
So as not either to provoke, or dread
New war, provoked.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 643.

Where passion leads or prudence points the way.
ROBERT LOWTH: _Choice of Hercules,_ i.


Yon ancient prude, whose wither'd features show
She might be young some forty years ago,
Her elbows pinion'd close upon her hips,
Her head erect, her fan upon her lips,
Her eyebrows arch'd, her eyes both gone astray
To watch yon amorous couple in their play,
With bony and unkerchief'd neck defies
The rude inclemency of wintry skies,
And sails, with lappet-head and mincing airs,
Duly at chink of bell to morning prayers.
COWPER: _Truth,_ Line 13.


And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist instead of a stick.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i, Canto i., Line 11.


                  Back to thy punishment,
False fugitive, and to thy speed, add wings.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 699.


'Tis said the lion will turn and flee
From a maid in the pride of her purity.
BYRON: _Siege of Corinth,_ St. 21.


Make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 5.


Who steals my purse steals trash; 't is something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.


Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps;
And pyramids are pyramids in vales.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night vi., Line 309.



        Out, you impostors!
Quack-salving cheating mountebanks!--your skill
Is to make sound men sick, and sick men kill.
MASSINGER: _Virgin-Martyr,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Void of all honor, avaricious, rash,
The daring tribe compound their boasted trash--
Tincture of syrup, lotion, drop, or pill:
All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill.
CRABBE: _Borough,_ Letter vii., Line 75.


Upright Quakers please both man and God.
POPE: _Dunciad,_ Bk. iv., Line 208.

The Quaker loves an ample brim,
  A hat that bows to no salaam;
And dear the beaver is to him
  As if it never made a dam.
HOOD: _All Round my Hat._


Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee:
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

They who in quarrels interpose,
Must often wipe a bloody nose.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., Fable 34.


She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. iii., Line 208.


With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 97.


Quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 42.

Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past.


Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks and wreathed Smiles.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 25.


The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Nor suffers Horace more in wrong translations
By wits, than critics in as wrong quotations.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 103.



He lives to build, not boast, a generous race;
No tenth transmitter of a foolish face.
RICHARD SAVAGE: _The Bastard,_ Line 7.


Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire
DRYDEN: _Alex. Feast,_ Line 160.


For the rain it raineth every day.
SHAKS.: _Tw. Night,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!
LONGFELLOW: _Rain in Summer,_ Sts. 1 and 2.

The rain comes when the wind calls.
EMERSON: _Woodnotes,_ Pt. ii., Line 271.

In winter, when the dismal rain
    Came down in slanting lines.
ALEXANDER SMITH: _A Life Drama,_ Sc. 2.


Hail, many-colored messenger, that ne'er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres, and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

That gracious thing made up of tears and light.
COLERIDGE: _Two Founts,_ St. 5.

The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality,_ St. 2.

There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
KEATS: _Lamia,_ Pt. ii.


Superior worth your rank requires:
For that, mankind reveres your sires;
If you degenerate from your race,
Their merits heighten your disgrace.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. ii, Fable 11.

The rank is but the guinea stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
BURNS: _For a' That and a' That._


If such there breathe, go, mark him well!
For him no minstrel raptures swell.
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto vi., St. 1.


Where men of judgment creep and feel their way,
The positive pronounce without dismay.
COWPER: _Conversation,_ Line 145.

One more unfortunate
  Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
  Gone to her death.
HOOD: _The Bridge of Sighs._


              Many books,
Wise men have said, are wearisome; who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit and judgment equal or superior,
Uncertain and unsettled still remains--
Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 321.

When the last reader reads no more.

                  Stuff the head
With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it.
POPE: _Dunciad,_ Bk. iv., Line 249.


These are our realms, no limit to their sway,--
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
BYRON: _Corsair,_ Canto i., St. 1.


I have no other but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Reason raise o'er instinct as you can,
In this 'tis God directs, in that 'tis man.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iii., Line 97.

          I would make
Reason my guide.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Conjunction of Jupiter and Venus._

The confidence of reason give,
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!
WORDSWORTH: _Ode to Duty._

With sanctity of reason.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vii., Line 507.


                Their weapons only
Seem'd on our side, but, for their spirits and souls,
This word, rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunder, to grow slack.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 31.

    Then welcome each rebuff
    That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go!
ROBERT BROWNING: _Rabbi Ben Ezra._


Forbear sharp speeches to her; She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act iii., Sc. 5.


So comes a reck'ning when the banquet's o'er,
The dreadful reck'ning, and men smile no more.
GAY: _What D' ye Call It,_ Act ii., Sc. 9.


How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
WORDSWORTH: _The Old Oaken Bucket._


Never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 98.


In records that defy the tooth of time.
YOUNG: _The Statesman's Creed._


Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue
But moody and dull melancholy,
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life?
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Of recreation there is none
So free as Fishing is alone;
All other pastimes do no less
Than mind and body both possess:
    My hand alone my work can do,
    So I can fish and study too.
IZAAK WALTON: _The Complete Angler._ _The Angler's Song._


What need we any spur but our own cause
To prick us to redress.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Remembrance and reflection how allied!
What thin partitions sense from thought divide!
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 225.


'Tis the talent of our English nation,
Still to be plotting some new Reformation.
DRYDEN: _Sophonisba,_ Prologue.


O last regret, regret can die!
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ lxxviii., St. 5.

Deep as first love, and wild with all regret.
Oh death in life, the days that are no more!
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iv., Line 36.


                          In Religion
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

                Religion is a spring,
That from some secret, golden mine
Derives her birth, and thence doth bring
Cordials in every drop, and wine.
HENRY VAUGHAN: _Religion._

Religion crowns the statesman and the man,
Sole source of public and of private peace.
YOUNG: _Public Situation of the Kingdom,_ Line 500.

Pity Religion has so seldom found
A skilful guide into poetic ground!
COWPER: _Table Talk,_ Line 17.

Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.
HERBERT: _The Church Militant._


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


The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

        Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear.
SHAKS.: _All 's Well,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

I've been so long remembered, I'm forgot.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night iv., Line 57.

I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high:
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky;
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heaven
Than when I was a boy.
HOOD: _I Remember, I Remember._


Remorse is as the heart in which it grows,
If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews
Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy,
It is the poison tree that, pierced to the inmost,
Weeps only tears of poison.
COLERIDGE: _Remorse,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Short is my date, but deathless my renown.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. ix., Line 535.


A man renown'd for repartee
Will seldom scruple to make free
With friendship's finest feeling,
Will thrust a dagger at your breast,
And say he wounded you in jest,
By way of balm for healing.
COWPER: _Friendship,_ Line 16.


Who by repentance is not satisfied
Is nor of heaven nor earth; for these are pleased;
By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

Illusion is brief, but Repentance is long!
SCHILLER: _Lay of the Bell,_ St. 4.

    Repentance is the weight
Of indigested meals eat yesterday.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. ii.

Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 996.


The best of men have ever loved repose:
They hate to mingle in the filthy fray,
Where the soul sours, and gradual rancor grows,
Imbitter'd more from peevish day to day.
THOMSON: _Castle of Indolence,_ Canto i., St. 17.

Her suffering ended with the day,
  Yet lived she at its close,
And breathed the long, long night away,
  In statue-like repose.


Fear not the anger of the wise to raise;
Those best can bear reproof who merit praise.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. iii., Line 23.

Reproof on her lips, but a smile in her eye.
LOVER: _Rory O'More._


The purest treasure mortal times afford,
Is spotless reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

At every word a reputation dies.
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., Line 16.


But Heaven hath a hand in these events;
To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
SHAKS.: _Richard II._ Act v., Sc. 2.

While Resignation gently slopes away,
And all his prospects brightening to the last,
His heaven commences ere the world be past.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 110.


                The native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Who with a body filled and vacant mind
Gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Rest is sweet after strife.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto vi., St. 25.

For too much rest itself becomes a pain.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xv., Line 429.


Who soweth good seed shall surely reap;
The year grows rich as it groweth old;
And life's latest sands are its sands of gold.
JULIA C.R. DORR: _To the Bouquet Club._


Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
This unfrequented place to find some ease.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 16.

O blest retirement, friend to life's decline,
Retreats from care that never must be mine,
How happy he who crowns, in shades like these,
A youth of labor, with an age of ease;
Who quits a world where strong temptations try,
And, since 't is hard to combat, learns to fly.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 97.


In all the trade of war, no feat
Is nobler than a brave retreat;
For those that run away, and fly,
Take place at least of the enemy.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto iii., Line 607.


Midnight shout and revelry,
Tipsy dance and jollity.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 103.

There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gather'd then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 21.


And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Até by his side, come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry "Havock," and let slip the dogs of war.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

            Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 171.

Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But, when I think of all my wrongs,
My blood is liquid flame.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., St. 7.


          Let the air strike our tune,
Whilst we show reverence to yond peeping moon.
MIDDLETON: _The Witch,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


There is great talk of revolution,
And a great chance of despotism,
German soldiers, camps, confusion,
Tumults, lotteries, rage, delusion,
Gin, suicide, and Methodism.
SHELLEY: _Peter Bell the Third, Hell,_ St. 6.


For Rhetoric, he could not ope
His mouth, but out there flew a trope.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 8.

Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 790.


The castled crag of Drachenfels
Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 55.

The river Rhine, it is well known,
Doth wash your city of Cologne;
But tell me, nymphs! what power divine
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?
COLERIDGE: _Cologne._


Still may syllables jar with time,
Still may reason war with rhyme.
BEN JONSON: _Fit of Rhyme against Rhyme._

                      He knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
MILTON: _Lycidas,_ Line 10.

For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 463.


Infinite riches in a little room.
MARLOWE: _The Jew of Malta,_ Act i.

Extol not riches then, the toil of fools,
The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more apt
To slacken virtue, and abate her edge,
Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk ii., Line 453.


Ridicule is a weak weapon, when levelled at a strong mind;
But common men are cowards, and dread an empty laugh.
TUPPER: _Proverbial Phil., Of Ridicule._

Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the sad burden of some merry song.
POPE: Satire i., Bk. ii., Line 76.


But 't was a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would abide.
CRABBE: _Tales:_ Tale xv., _The Squire and the Priest._

For right is right, since God is God,
  And right the day must win;
To doubt would be disloyalty,
  To falter would be sin.
FREDERICK W. FABER: _The Right Must Win._

And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. i., Line 289.


By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
MARLOWE: _The Passionate Shepherd to His Love._

See the rivers, how they run,
Changeless to the changeless sea.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Saint's Tragedy,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

The river glideth at his own sweet will.
WORDSWORTH: _Earth has not anything to show more fair._


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


Better to sink beneath the shock
Than moulder piecemeal on the rock.
BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 969.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee.
TOPLADY: _Salvation through Christ._

Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.
SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake,_ Canto v., St. 10.


              His rod revers'd,
And backward mutters of dissevering power.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 816.

            A light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove.
WORDSWORTH: _Ode to Duty._


I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

This was the noblest Roman of them all.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act v., Sc. 5.


Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 8.

    Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.
WORDSWORTH: _A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags._


To the glory that was Greece
And the grandeur that was Rome.
EDGAR A. POE: _To Helen._


At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;
But like of each thing that in season grows.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem,
For that sweet odor which doth in it live.
SHAKS.: Sonnet liv.

You love the roses--so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iii.

As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
KEATS: _Eve of St. Agnes,_ St. 27.

The rose saith in the dewy morn,
I am most fair;
Yet all my loveliness is born
Upon a thorn.
CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI: _Consider the Lilies of the Field._

Strew on her roses, roses,
  And never a spray of yew!
In quiet she reposes;
  Ah, would that I did too.
MATTHEW ARNOLD: _Requiescat._


The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau,
The apostle of affliction--he, who threw
Enchantment over passion, and from woe
Wrung overwhelming eloquence.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 77.


O wretched state of Kings! O doleful fate!
Greatness misnamed, in misery only great!
Could men but know the endless woe it brings,
The wise would die before they would be Kings.
Think what a King must do!
R.H. STODDARD: _The King's Bell._


Where my high steeples whilom used to stand,
On which the lordly falcon wont to tower,
There now is but an heap of lime and sand,
For the screech-owl to build her baleful bower.
SPENSER: _Ruins of Time,_ Line 127.

On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. i., Line 385.

The day shall come, that great avenging day
Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay,
When Priam's powers and Priam's self shall fall,
And one prodigious ruin swallow all.
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. iv., Line 196.

=Ruling Passions.=

In men, we various Ruling Passions find;
In women, two almost divide the kind;
Those, only fix'd, they first or last obey,
The love of pleasure and the love of sway.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 207.


              Rumor is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures;
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it.
SHAKS.: _Henry IV.,_ Pt. ii., Induction.

=Rural Life.=

          Of men
The happiest he, who far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few retired,
Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Autumn,_ Line 1132.



              The Sabbath bell,
That over wood, and wild, and mountain dell
Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy
With sounds most musical, most melancholy.
ROGERS: _Human Life,_ Line 515.

Yes, child of suffering, thou mayst well be sure
He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _A Rhymed Lesson. Urania._

E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me.
POPE: _Epis. to Arbuthnot,_ Line 12.

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

    The Sabbath brings its kind release,
And Care lies slumbering on the lap of Peace.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _A Rhymed Lesson,_ Line 229.

Take the Sunday with you through the week,
And sweeten with it all the other days.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. i., 5.


Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready with every nod to tumble down.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

O Thou, who in thy hand dost hold
The winds and waves that wake or sleep,
Thy tender arms of mercy fold
Around the seamen on the deep.
HANNAH F. GOULD: _Changes on the Deep._

Messmates, hear a brother sailor
    Sing the dangers of the sea.


Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

He that has sail'd upon the dark blue sea
Has view'd at times, I ween, a full fair sight;
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be,
The white sails set, the gallant frigate tight;
Masts, spires, and strand retiring to the right,
The glorious main expanding o'er the bow,
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight,
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now,
So gayly curl the waves before each dashing prow.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 17.


And now the saints began their reign,
For which they'd yearn'd so long in vain,
And felt such bowel-hankerings,
To see an empire, all of kings.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 237.

For virtue's self may too much zeal be had;
The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.
POPE: Satire iv., Line 26.

There is a land of pure delight,
    Where saints immortal reign.
WATTS: _Hymns and Spiritual Songs._

Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And saints who taught and led the way to heaven.
TICKELL: _On the Death of Mr. Addison,_ Line 41.

That saints will aid if men will call;
For the blue sky bends over all.
COLERIDGE: _Christabel,_ Conclusion to Pt. i.


Alas! you know the cause too well;
The salt is spilt, to me it fell.
GAY: _Fables,_ Pt. i., Fable 37.

Why dost thou shun the salt? that sacred pledge,
Which once partaken blunts the sabre's edge,
Makes even contending tribes in peace unite,
And hated hosts seem brethren to the sight.
BYRON: _Corsair,_ Canto ii, St. 4.

Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xi., Line 153.


                  About some act
That has no relish of salvation in 't.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

                  Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


Come unto these yellow sands,
    And then take hands;
Courtesied when you have, and kiss'd
    The wild waves whist.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act i., Sc. 2

Here are sand, ignoble things,
Dropt from the ruined sides of kings.
BEAUMONT: _On the Tombs of Westminster Abbey._


          To whom the arch-enemy,
And thence in heaven call'd Satan,--with bold words
Breaking the horrid silence, thus began.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 81.

For Satan finds some mischief still
    For idle hands to do.
WATTS: _Divine Songs,_ Song 20.

And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
COWPER: _Exhortation to Prayer._


They surfeited with honey; and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

With pleasure drugg'd he almost long'd for woe,
And e'en for change of scene would seek the shades below.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 6.


Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet;
I only wear it in a land of Hectors,
Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.
POPE: Satire i., Line 69.

Prepare for rhyme--I'll publish, right or wrong;
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
BYRON: _Eng. Bards,_ Line 5.

In general satire, every man perceives
A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves.
CRABBE: _Advice,_ Line 244.


I am as free as Nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
DRYDEN: _Conquest of Granada,_ Pt. i., Act i., Sc. 1.


For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
SHAKS.: _Lucrece,_ Line 1006.

                You know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

The whole court melted into one wide whisper,
And all lips were applied unto all ears!
The elder ladies' wrinkles curled much crisper
As they beheld; the younger cast some leers
On one another, and each lovely lisper
Smiled as she talked the matter o'er: but tears
Of rivalship rose in each clouded eye
Of all the standing army that stood by.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto ix., St. 78


He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Gashed with honorable scars,
    Low in Glory's lap they lie.
JAMES MONTGOMERY: _Battle of Alexandria._


For wheresoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes,
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise.
ADDISON: _A Letter from Italy._


Oh! lives there, heaven! beneath thy dread expanse,
One hopeless, dark idolater of chance,
Content to feed with pleasures unrefin'd,
The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind;
Who mouldering earthward, 'reft of every trust,
In joyless union wedded to the dust,
Could all his parting energy dismiss,
And call this barren world sufficient bliss?
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 295.

Whatever sceptic could inquire for,
For every why he had a wherefore.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 131.


His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not,
But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar
Showed him the gentleman and scholar.
BURNS: _The Twa Dogs_

The land of scholars and the nurse of arms.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 356.


And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way,
With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,
There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule,
The village master taught his little school;
A man severe he was, and stern to view,--
I knew him well, and every truant knew;
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 193.


Trace science then, with modesty thy guide;
First strip off all her equipage of pride;
Deduct what is but vanity, or dress,
Or learning's luxury, or idleness;
Or tricks to show the stretch of human brain,
Mere curious pleasure, or ingenious pain;
Expunge the whole, or lop th' excrescent parts
Of all our vices have created arts;
Then see how little the remaining sum
Which serv'd the past, and must the times to come.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 43.

O star-eyed Science! hast thou wander'd there,
To waft us home the message of despair?
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 325.


Scorn at first, makes after-love the more.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

                Alas! to make me
The fixed figure of the time, for scorn
To point his slow and moving finger at.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

So let him stand, through ages yet unborn,
Fix'd statue on the pedestal of scorn!
BYRON: _Curse of Minerva,_ Line 207.

                He hears,
On all sides, from innumerable tongues,
A dismal universal hiss, the sound
Of public scorn.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. x., Line 506.


Stands Scotland where it did?
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent!
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content.
BURNS: _Cotter's Saturday Night,_ St. 20.

It was a' for our rightfu' King
    We left fair Scotland's strand.
BURNS: _A' for our Rightfu' King._


Laugh when I laugh, I seek no other fame,
The cry is up, and scribblers are my game.
BYRON: _English Bards,_ Line 43.


'T is elder Scripture, writ by God's own hand,--
Scripture authentic! uncorrupt by man.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night ix., Line 644.


Sculpture is more divine, and more like Nature,
That fashions all her works in high relief,
And that is Sculpture.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. i., 5.

                A sculptor wields
The chisel, and the stricken marble grows
To beauty.


The rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid's music.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide region round;
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;
Or like a cradled creature lies.

Broad based upon her people's will,
And compassed by the inviolate sea.
TENNYSON: _To the Queen._

'T was when the sea was roaring,
With hollow blasts of wind,
A damsel lay deploring,
All on a rock reclin'd.
JOHN GAY: _What D' ye Call It,_ Act ii., Sc. 8.


A weary weed, toss'd to and fro,
Drearily drench'd in the ocean brine,
Soaring high and sinking low,
Lashed along without will of mine,--
Sport of the spoom of the surging sea,
Flung on the foam afar and anear,
Mark my manifold mystery,--
Growth and grace in their place appear.


Perceiv'st thou not the process of the year,
How the four seasons in four forms appear,
Resembling human life in ev'ry shape they wear?
_Spring_ first, like infancy, shoots out her head,
With milky juice requiring to be fed: ...
Proceeding onward whence the year began,
The _Summer_ grows adult, and ripens into man....
_Autumn_ succeeds, a sober, tepid age,
Not froze with fear, nor boiling into rage; ...
Last, _Winter_ creeps along with tardy pace,
Sour is his front, and furrowed is his face.
DRYDEN: _Of Pythagorean Phil. From, 15th Book Ovid's Metamorphoses,_
  Line 206.

With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons, and their change,--all please alike.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 639.

            Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iii., Line 40.


Oh for a seat in some poetic nook,
Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!
LEIGH HUNT: _Politics and Poetics._


Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

            I will believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

              A secret in his mouth,
Is like a wild bird put into a cage,
Whose door no sooner opens, but 't is out.
BEN JONSON: _Case is Altered,_ Act iii., Sc. 3


His liberal soul with every sect agreed,
Unheard their reasons, he received their creed.
CRABBE: _Tales, Convert,_ Line 45.

Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
But looks through Nature up to Nature's God.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 331.


    You all know, security
Is mortal's chiefest enemy.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 5.


The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree
I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 10.


None are so desolate but something dear,
Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd
A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 24.


Despite those titles, power and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
SCOTT: _Lay of the Last Minstrel,_ Canto vi., St. 1.


To observations which ourselves we make,
We grow more partial for th' observer's sake.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. i., Line 2.


May I govern my passions with absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
... by a gentle decay.
DR. WALTER POPE: _The Old Man's Wish,_ Chorus.


          Self-defence is a virtue,
Sole bulwark of all right.
BYRON: _Sardanapalus,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Brave conquerors! for so you are,
That war against your own affections,
And the huge army of the world's desires.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


There is a luxury in self-dispraise;
And inward self-disparagement affords
To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
WORDSWORTH: _The Excursion,_ Bk. iv.


          Oft times nothing profits more
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right
Well manag'd.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. viii., Line 571.


To know _thyself_--in others self-concern;
Would'st thou know others? read thyself--and learn!
SCHILLER: _Votive Tablets, The Key._


Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
As self-neglecting.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the soul;
Reason's comparing balance rules the whole.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 59.


Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel
No self-reproach.
WORDSWORTH: _The Old Cumberland Beggar._


He that respects himself is safe from others;
He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. ii.


Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice.
WORDSWORTH: _Ode to Duty._


                A man whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven,
And though no science, fairly worth the seven.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. iv., Line 43


Our sensibilities are so acute,
The fear of being silent makes us mute.
COWPER: _Conversation,_ Line 351.

Sweet sensibility! thou keen delight!
Unprompted moral! sudden sense of right!
HANNAH MORE: _Sensibility,_ Line 227.


                Thy soul ...
Is as far from my grasp, is as free,
As the stars from the mountain-tops be,
As the pearl in the depths of the sea,
From the portionless king that would wear it.
E.C. STEDMAN: _Stanzas for Music,_ St. 3.


September waves his golden-rod
  Along the lanes and hollows,
And saunters round the sunny fields
  A-playing with the swallows.


Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.
BURNS: _Epistle to a Young Friend._


What! would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Where's my serpent of old Nile?
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

And hence one master-passion in the breast,
Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 131.

Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit,
  But the trail of the Serpent is over them all.
MOORE: _Paradise and the Peri._


Ful wel she sange the service devine,
Entuned in hire nose ful swetely.
CHAUCER: _Canterbury Tales, Prologue,_ Line 122.

And ye shall succor men;
'T is nobleness to serve;
Help them who cannot help again:
Beware from right to swerve.
EMERSON: _Boston Hymn,_ St. 13.


Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
Being so father'd and so husbanded?
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

          Spirits when they please,
Can either sex assume, or both.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 423.


See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle!
Of hard, unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole
A gentle tear; with mattock in his hand,
Digs thro' whole rows of kindred and acquaintance
By far his juniors! Scarce a skull's cast up
But well he knew its owner, and can tell
Some passage of his life.
BLAIR: _The Grave,_ Line 452.

His death, which happened in his berth,
  At forty-odd befell:
They went and told the sexton, and
  The sexton tolled the bell.
HOOD: _Faithless Sally Brown._


Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Syene, and where the shadow both way falls,
Meroe, Nilotic isle.
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 70.

Our acts our angels are, or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
JOHN FLETCHER: _Upon an "Honest Man's Fortune."_


In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight
The selfsame way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both
I oft found both.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

That eagle's fate and mine are one,
  Which on the shaft that made him die
Espied a feather of his own,
  Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
WALLER: _To a Lady Singing a Song of his Composing._


                  Soul of the age!
Th' applause! delight! the wonder of our stage!
My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie
A little further, to make thee room;
Thou art a monument, without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
BEN JONSON: _Underwoods, To the Mem. of Shakespeare._

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime,
With tears and laughters for all time!
MRS. BROWNING: _Vision of Poets,_ St. 101.

Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 129.

What needs my Shakespeare for his honor'd bones,--
The labor of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
MILTON: _On Shakespeare._


O, shame! where is thy blush?
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

  But 'neath yon crimson tree
Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame,
Nor mark, within its roseate canopy,
  Her blush of maiden shame.


Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

                      The other shape,
If shape it might be call'd that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 681.


                  I have seen
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
Of inland ground, applying to his ear
The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell,
To which, in silence hushed, his very soul
Listened intensely.
WORDSWORTH: _The Excursion,_ Bk. iv.


Ah, did you once see Shelley plain,
  And did he stop and speak to you,
And did you speak to him again?
  How strange it seems, and new!
ROBERT BROWNING: _Memorabilia,_ i.


Long shall we seek his likeness--long in vain,
And turn to all of him which may remain,
Sighing that nature form'd but one such man,
And broke the die--in moulding Sheridan.
BYRON: _Monody on the Death of Sheridan._


When Prussia hurried to the field,
And snatch'd the spear, but left the shield.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Introduction to Canto iii.


Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
MARLOWE: _Faustus._

Like sister sails that drift at night
Together on the deep,
Seen only where they cross the light
That pathless waves must pathlike keep
From fisher's signal fire, or pharos steep.
RUSKIN: _The Broken Chain,_ Pt. v., St. 25.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
BYRON: _Corsair,_ Canto i., St. 3.

As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
COLERIDGE: _The Ancient Mariner,_ Pt. ii.


                O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! poor souls! they perish'd.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Again she plunges! hark! a second shock
Bilges the splitting Vessel on the Rock--
Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries
The fated victims shuddering cast their eyes,
In wild despair; while yet another stroke,
With strong convulsion rends the solid oak:
Ah Heaven!--behold her crashing ribs divide!
She loosens, parts, and spreads in ruin o'er the Tide.
FALCONER: _Shipwreck,_ Canto iii., Line 642.


I saw them go: one horse was blind,
The tails of both hung down behind,
  Their shoes were on their feet.
JAMES SMITH: _Rejected Addresses, The Baby's Début._

Let firm, well-hammer'd soles protect thy feet,
Thro' freezing snows, and rain, and soaking sleet.
GAY: _Trivia,_ Bk. i., Line 33.


But the poor, unsightly, noisome things
Had left their beauty on the shore,
With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
EMERSON: _Each and All._

There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 178.

A strong nor'wester 's blowing, Bill!
  Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
  Unhappy folks on shore now!
WILLIAM PITT: _The Sailor's Consolation._


Live to be the show and gaze o' the time.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 8.

With books and money plac'd for show
Like nest-eggs to make clients lay,
And for his false opinion pay.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto iii., Line 624.


What sought they thus afar?
  Bright jewels of the mine,
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
  They sought a faith's pure shrine.
HEMANS: _Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers._


          This sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


                My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

He sighed;--the next resource is the full moon,
Where all sighs are deposited; and now
It happen'd luckily, the chaste orb shone.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xvi., St. 13.


Visions of glory, spare my aching sight
Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
GRAY: _The Bard,_ Pt. iii., St. 1.

O Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 15.


Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish:
A vapor, sometime, like a bear, or lion,
A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon 't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs;
They are black vesper's pageants.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act iv., Sc. 12.


Silence is the perfectest herald of joy:
I were but little happy, if I could say how much.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words, tho' ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH: _Silent Lover,_ St. 6.

Silence more musical than any song.

Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 598.

There was silence deep as death,
And the boldest held his breath
For a time.
CAMPBELL: _Battle of the Baltic._

There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,--
In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea,
Or in the wide desert where no life is found.
HOOD: _Sonnet, Silence._


Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


Like will to like: each creature loves his kind,
Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind.
HERRICK: _Aph. Like Loves His Like._


And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captive ill.
SHAKS.: Sonnet lxvi.

Rich in saving common-sense,
And, as the greatest only are.
In his simplicity sublime.
TENNYSON: _Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington,_ St. 4.


Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousell'd, disappointed, unaneled.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

In lashing sin, of every stroke beware,
For sinners feel, and sinners you must spare.
CRABBE: _Tales, Advice,_ Line 242.

But sad as angels for the good man's sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 357.

I waive the quantum o' the sin,
  The hazard of concealing;
But, och! it hardens a' within,
  And petrifies the feeling!
BURNS: _Epistle to a Young Friend._

Compound for sins they are inclined to,
By damning those they have no mind to.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 215.


I never tempted her with word too large,
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Bashful sincerity and comely love.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for 's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges that his tongue must vent.
SHAKS.: _Coriolanus,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Sing, seraph with the glory! heaven is high.
Sing, poet with the sorrow! earth is low.
The universe's inward voices cry
"Amen" to either song of joy and woe.
Sing, seraph, poet! sing on equally!
MRS. BROWNING: _Sonnets, Seraph and Poet._

I send my heart up to thee, all my heart
In this my singing!
For the stars help me, and the sea bears part.
ROBERT BROWNING: _In a Gondola._

I do but sing because I must,
    And pipe but as the linnets sing.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. xxi., St. 6.

Song forbids victorious deeds to die.
SCHILLER: _Artists,_ St. 11.


No two on earth in all things can agree;
All have some darling singularity.
CHURCHILL: _Apology,_ Line 402.


                Oh, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker. You call'd me brother
When I was but your sister.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act v., Sc. 5.


How happy is he born or taught,
  That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
  And simple truth his utmost skill!
WOTTON: _Character of a Happy Life._


Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall,
Its chambers desolate, its portals foul;
Yes, this was once ambition's airy hall,
The dome of thought, the palace of the soul.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 6.


Man is the nobler growth our realms supply,
And souls are ripened in our northern sky.
MRS. BARBAULD: _The Invitation._

The sky is changed,--and such a change. O night
And storm and darkness! ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman!
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 92.


Slanderous reproaches, and foul infamies,
Leasings, backbitings, and vainglorious crakes,
Bad counsels, praises, and false flatteries;
All those against that fort did bend their batteries.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. ii., Canto xi., St. 10.

          'T is slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword: whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Bides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world,--kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons,--nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.
SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

'T was slander filled her mouth with lying words,--
Slander, the foulest whelp of sin.
POLLOK: _Course of Time,_ Bk. viii., Line 715.


Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favor never clasp'd: but bred a dog.
SHAKS.: _Timon of A.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Not color'd like his own, and having pow'r
T' enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause
Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 12.

Corrupted freemen are the worst of slaves.
DAVID GARRICK: _Prologue to the Gamesters._

            Whatever day
Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xvii., Line 392.


            We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Come, sleep, O sleep! the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe;
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
The impartial judge between the high and low.
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY: _Astrophel and Stella,_ St. 39.

Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep!
He, like the world, his ready visit pays
Where fortune smiles--the wretched he forsakes.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night i., Line 1.

O magic sleep! O comfortable bird
That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind
Till it is hush'd and smooth!
KEATS: _Endymion,_ Line 456.

      Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality.
BYRON: _Dream,_ Line 1.

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake,_ Canto i., St. 31.

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward into souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is,
For gift or grace, surpassing this--
"He giveth His beloved sleep"?

                  Be thy sleep
Silent as night is, and as deep.
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Golden Legend,_ Pt. ii.

Sleep will bring thee dreams in starry number--
Let him come to thee and be thy guest.
AYTOUN: _Hermotimus._


Sloth views the towers of Fame with envious eyes,
Desirous still, but impotent to rise.
SHENSTONE: _Moral Pieces._


'T is the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again."
WATTS: _The Sluggard._


One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

With the smile that was childlike and bland.
BRET HARTE: _Plain Language from Truthful James._

Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be filled.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 815.

Without the smile from partial beauty won,
Oh what were man?--a world without a sun.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 21.

Even children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 183.


I knew, by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd
Above the green elms, that a cottage was near.
MOORE: _Ballad Stanzas._


      The snail, whose tender horns being hit,
Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain,
And there, all smother'd up in shade, doth sit,
Long after fearing to creep forth again.
SHAKS.: _Venus and A.,_ Line 1033.


  We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it;
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act i., Sc. 3

A cheer for the snow--the drifting snow;
Smoother and purer than Beauty's brow;
The creature of thought scarce likes to tread
On the delicate carpet so richly spread.

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven.
EMERSON: _The Snow-Storm._


The snow-drop, who, in habit white and plain,
Comes on, the herald of fair Flora's train.
CHURCHILL: _Gotham,_ Bk. i., Line 245.


When they talked of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff,
He shifted his trumpet and only took snuff.
GOLDSMITH: _Retaliation,_ Line 145.

Lady, accept the gift a hero wore
   In spite of all this elegiac stuff;
Let not seven stanzas written by a bore
   Prevent your ladyship from taking snuff.
BYRON: _Lines to Lady Holland._


Man in society is like a flower
Blown in its native bed; 't is there alone
His faculties expanded in full bloom
Shine out; there only reach their proper use.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. iv., Line 659.

Society became my glittering bride,
And airy hopes my children.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. iii.


            A soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

        And but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 155.

How shall we rank thee upon glory's page,
Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage?
MOORE: _To Thomas Hume._


Solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 249.

O solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
COWPER: _Verses supposed to be written by Alex. Selkirk,_ St. 1.

Man dwells apart, though not alone,
He walks among his peers unread;
The best of thoughts which he hath known,
For lack of listeners are not said.
JEAN INGELOW: _Afternoon at a Parsonage, Afterthought._

It was a wild and lonely ride.
  Save the hid loon's mocking cry,
Or marmot on the mountain side,
  The earth was silent as the sky.
HAMLIN GARLAND: _The Long Trail._


Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

The booby father craves a booby son,
And by Heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 165.


And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
DRYDEN: _Absalom and Achitophel,_ Pt. i., Line 197.

That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long,
But stoop'd to truth, and moraliz'd his song.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 340.

For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,
The genuine seeds of poesy are sown.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xxii., Line 382.


Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honors; with this key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
WORDSWORTH: _Scorn not the Sonnet._


Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

One sorrow never comes, but brings an heir,
That may succeed as his inheritor.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Nothing comes to us too soon but sorrow.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _Home._

        This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ St. 38.


But whither went his soul, let such relate
Who search the secrets of the future state.
DRYDEN: _Palamon and Arcite,_ Bk. iii., Line 2120.

It is the Soul's prerogative, its fate
To shape the outward to its own estate.
R.H. DANA: _Thoughts on the Soul._

              The gods approve
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
WORDSWORTH: _Laodamia._


'T is not enough no harshness gives offence,--
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
POPE: _E. on Criticism,_ Pt. ii., Line 162.


Fair land! of chivalry the old domain,
Land of the vine and olive, lovely Spain!
MRS. HEMANS: _Abencerrage,_ Canto ii., Line 1.


His spear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast
Of some great ammiral were but a wand.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 292.


            Rude am I in my speech
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Speech is but broken light upon the depth
Of the unspoken; even your loved words
Float in the larger meaning of your voice
As something dimmer.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. 1.


Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget,
The gentle Spenser, fancy's pleasing son;
Who, like a copious river, poured his song
O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Summer,_ Line 1574.


Ye swelling hills and spacious plains!
Besprent from shore to shore with steeple towers,
And spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. vi., Line 17.


I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Why, so can I; or so can any man:
But will they come, when you do call for them?
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 677.


Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality,_ St. 10.


                      Thick around
Thunders the sport of those, who with the gun
And dog, impatient bounding at the shot,
Worse than the season desolate the fields.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Winter,_ Line 788.


In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove;
In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
TENNYSON: _Locksley Hall,_ Line 19.

Come, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come;
And from the bosom of your dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veiled in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 1.

"Come, gentle Spring! ethereal mildness, come!"--
Oh! Thomson, void of rhyme as well as reason,
How could'st thou thus poor human nature hum?
There 's no such season.
HOOD: _Spring._


          All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.


Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear without number!
HERRICK: _Aph. Night Piece, To Julia._

Ye stars! which are the poetry of Heaven,
If in your bright leaves we would read the fate
Of men and empires,--'t is to be forgiven,
That in our aspirations to be great,
Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state,
And claim a kindred with you.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 88.

    Now only here and there a little star
Looks forth alone.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _The Constellations._


A thousand years scarce serve to form a state:
An hour may lay it in the dust.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 84.


            An honest statesman to a prince,
Is like a cedar planted by a spring;
The spring bathes the tree's root, the grateful tree
Rewards it with his shadow.
WEBSTER: _Duchess of Malfi,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Hurrah, hurrah for Sheridan!
Hurrah, hurrah for horse and man!
And when their statues are placed on high,
Under the dome of the Union sky,--
The American soldier's Temple of Fame,--
There with the glorious General's name
Be it said in letters both bold and bright:
"Here is the steed that saved the day
By carrying Sheridan into the fight,
From Winchester,--twenty miles away!"
THOMAS BUCHANAN READ: _Sheridan's Ride._


          Put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


            We often see, against some storm,
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

God moves in a mysterious way
  His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea
  And rides upon the storm.
COWPER: _Light Shining out of Darkness._

Nail to the mast her holy flag,
  Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
  The lightning and the gale!


Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortune,
That I have passed.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

                She thank'd me,
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,
By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honored, and by strangers mourn'd.
POPE: _To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady,_ Line 51.


The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


          O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

            To be strong
Is to be happy!
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Golden Legend,_ Pt. ii.


No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,--
The past unsighed for, and the future sure.
WORDSWORTH: _Laodamia._


How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell;
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
SHAKS.: _King Lear,_ Act i., Sc. 4.


Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,
That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.
SHAKS.: _Love's L. Lost,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

If not to some peculiar end design'd
Study 's the specious trifling of the mind,
Or is at best a secondary aim,
A chase for sport alone, and not for game.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 67.


The lives of trees lie only in the barks,
And in their styles the wit of greatest clerks.
BUTLER: _Sat. on Abuse of Human Learning,_ Line 211.


Didst thou never hear
That things ill got had ever bad success?
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Life lives only in success.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _Amran's Wooing,_ St. 5.

'Tis not in mortals to command success;
But we'll do more, Sempronius--we'll deserve it.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


Yet tears to human suffering are due;
And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown
Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.
WORDSWORTH: _Laodamia._


Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it;
And at the best shows but a bastard valor.
MASSINGER: _Maid of Honor,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all except their sun is set.
Byron: _Don Juan,_ Canto iii., St. 86. 1.

   It is a sultry day; the sun has drunk
The dew that lay upon the morning grass;
There is no rustling in the lofty elm
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
And interrupted murmur of the bee,
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
Instantly on the wing.


                   The glorious sun,
Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist;
Turning, with splendor of his precious eye,
The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold.
SHAKS.: _King John,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Busy old fool, unruly sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows and through curtains call on us?
JOHN DONNE: _The Sun-Rising._

  My own hope is, a sun will pierce
The thickest cloud earth ever stretched.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Apparent Failure,_ vii.


Light enchanted sunflower, thou
Who gazest ever true and tender
On the sun's revolving splendor!
       *       *       *       *       *
Restless sunflowers, cease to move.
SHELLEY: _Tr. of "Magico Prodigioso" of Calderon,_ Sc. 3.

The heart that has truly lov'd never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turn'd when he rose.
MOORE: _Believe Me, If all Those Endearing Young Charms._

Miles and miles of gold and green
Where the sunflowers blow
In a solid glow.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Lovers' Quarrel,_ St. 6.

Unloved, the sunflower, shining fair,
Ray round with flames her disk of seed.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. ci., St. 2.


When from the opening chambers of the east
The morning springs in thousand liveries drest,
The early larks their morning tribute pay,
And, in shrill notes, salute the blooming day.
THOMSON: _The Morning in the Country._

'Tis morn. Behold the kingly Day now leaps
The eastern wall of earth with sword in hand,
Clad in a flowing robe of mellow light.
Like to a king that has regain'd his throne,
He warms his drooping subjects into joy,
That rise rejoiced to do him fealty,
And rules with pomp the universal world.


The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And, by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

O the wondrous golden sunset of the blest October day.
JULIA C.R. DORR: _Margery Grey,_ St. 24.

          The descending sun
Seems to caress the city that he loves,
And crowns it with the aureole of a saint.
LONGFELLOW: _Michael Angelo,_ Pt. i., 2.

          The sun is going down,
And I must see the glory from the hill.


See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.
BAILEY: _Festus,_ Sc. _The Surface._

As sunshine broken in the rill,
Though turned astray, is sunshine still.
MOORE: _The Fire-Worshippers._


As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope, by the immoderate use,
Turns to restraint.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes
And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.
DRYDEN: _Cymon and Iphigenia,_ Line 41.


For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain
A cool suspense, from pleasure and from pain.
POPE: _Eloisa to A.,_ Line 249.


Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
SHAKS.:  _3 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 6.


When Autumn scatters his departing gleams,
Warned of approaching Winter, gathered, play
The swallow-people; and tossed wide around
O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift,
The feathered eddy floats; rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Autumn,_ Line 836.


          The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. vii., Line 438.


And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again.
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.

Take not His name, who made thy mouth, in vain;
It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 10.


Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Married to immortal verse,
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 135.


I go, I go; look how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

His golden locks time hath to silver turned;
  O time too swift! O swiftness never ceasing!
GEORGE PEELE: _Sonnet, Polyhymnia._


          How many a time have I
Cloven with arm still lustier, breast more daring,
The wave all roughen'd; with a swimmer's stroke
Flinging the billows back from my drench'd hair,
And laughing from my lip the audacious brine,
Which kiss'd it like a wine-cup, rising o'er
The waves as they arose, and prouder still
The loftier they uplifted me.
BYRON: _Two Foscari,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


         Full bravely hast thou fleshed
Thy maiden sword.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

Chase brave employment with a naked sword
Throughout the world.
HERBERT: _The Church Porch._


Thou hast given me, in this beauteous face,
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

There's nought in this bad world like sympathy:
'Tis so becoming to the soul and face--
Sets to soft music the harmonious sigh,
And robes sweet friendship in a Brussels lace.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiv., St. 47.


Synods are mystical bear-gardens,
Where elders, deputies, church-wardens,
And other members of the court,
Manage the Babylonish sport.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto iii., Line 1095.



Who so shall telle a tale after a man,
He moste reherse, as neighe as ever he can,
Everich word, if it be in his charge,
All speke he never so rudely and so large.
CHAUCER: _Canterbury Tales, Prologue,_  Line 733.

           But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 5.

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of my whole course of love.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

Meet me by moonlight alone,
  And then I will tell you a tale
Must be told by the moonlight alone,
  In the grove at the end of the vale!
J.A. WADE: _Meet Me by Moonlight._


           We will not stand to prate;
Talkers are no good doers; be assured
We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

But still his tongue ran on, the less
Of weight it bore, with greater ease
And with its everlasting clack,
Set all men's ears upon the rack.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 443.

They always talk who never think.
PRIOR: _Upon this Passage in the Scaligeriana._

Where Nature's end of language is declin'd,
And men talk only to conceal the mind.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire ii., Line 207.

It would talk,--
Lord! how it talked!
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _Scornful Lady,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Tasso is their glory and their shame.
Hark to his strain! and then survey his cell!
And see how dearly earn'd Torquato's fame,
And where Alfonso bade his poet dwell.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 36.


Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find
Two of a face as soon as of a mind.
POPE: Satire vi., Line 268.

Good native Taste, tho' rude, is seldom wrong,
Be it in music, painting, or in song:
But this, as well as other faculties,
Improves with age and ripens by degrees.
ARMSTRONG: _Taste,_ Line 26

Such and so various are the tastes of men.
AKENSIDE: _Pl. of the Imagination,_ Bk. iii., Line 567.


By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash,
By any indirection.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails;
And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails.
CONGREVE: _Epis. to Sir Richard Temple. Of Pleasing,_ Line 17.


For her own breakfast she'll project a scheme,
Nor take her tea without a stratagem.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vi., Line 190.


          I have labored,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.


          The big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

          Then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.
SHAKS.: _Titus And.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Our present tears here, not our present laughter,
Are but the handsells of our joys hereafter.
HERRICK: _Noble Numbers, Tears._

Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 619.

A child will weep a bramble's smart,
A maid to see her sparrow part,
A stripling for a woman's heart:
But woe awaits a country, when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto v., St. 16.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
WORDSWORTH: _Intimations of Immortality._

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iv., Line 21.

Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. i., Line 180.

Under the sod and the dew,
  Waiting the judgment day;
Love and tears for the Blue,
  Tears and love for the Gray.
FRANCIS M. FINCH: _The Blue and the Gray._


     Ye gods, it doth amaze me
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world
And bear the palm alone.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


Temp'rate in every place,--abroad, at home.
Thence will applause, and hence will profit come;
And health from either--he in time prepares
For sickness, age, and their attendant cares.
CRABBE: _The Borough,_ Letter xvii., Line 198.


               The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Suddeine they see from midst of all the maine
The surging waters like a mountaine rise,
And the great sea puft up with proud disdaine,
To swell above the measure of his guise,
As threatning to devoure all that his powre despise.
SPENSER: _Faerie Queene,_ Bk. ii., Canto xii., St. 21.

From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage;
Till, in the furious elemental war
Dissolv'd, the whole precipitated mass,
Unbroken floods and solid torrents pours.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Summer,_ Line 799.

              The sky
Is overcast, and musters muttering thunder,
In clouds that seem approaching fast, and show
In forked flashes a commanding tempest.
BYRON: _Sardanapalus,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


Oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

'Tis the temptation of the devil
That makes all human actions evil;
For saints may do the same things by
The spirit, in sincerity,
Which other men are tempted to,
And at the devil's instance do:
And yet the actions be contrary,
Just as the saints and wicked vary.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto ii., Line 233.

Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,
  She lives whom we call dead.
LONGFELLOW: _Resignation_


Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
That never wrongeth.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _Improvisations,_ Pt. v.


Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
  And as silently steal away.
LONGFELLOW: _The Day is Done._


There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


          Bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.


And many a holy text around she strews,
  That teach the rustic moralist to die.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 21.


The poorest service is repaid with thanks.
SHAKS.: _Tam. of the S.,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.

          Thanks to men
Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
SHAKS.: _Titus And.,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act v., Sc. 5.


The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief.
SHAKS.: _Othello,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


That panting thirst, which scorches in the breath
Of those that die the soldier's fiery death,
In vain impels the burning mouth to crave
One drop--the last--to cool it for the grave.
BYRON: _Lara,_ Canto ii., St. 16.


Why are we fond of toil and care?
Why choose the rankling thorn to wear?
J.M. USTERI: _Life let us Cherish._


Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Thought alone is eternal.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. ii., Canto v., St. 16.

         No thought which ever stirred
A human breast should be untold.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 2.

    Thought leapt out to wed with Thought
Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. xxiii., St. 4.

Thought is deeper than all speech,
  Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach
  What unto themselves was taught.


Sewing at once a double thread,
  A shroud as well as a shirt.
HOOD: _Song of the Shirt._


If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

         Back to thy punishment,
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue
Thy ling'ring.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 699.


Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 2.


High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 1.


And threat'ning France, plac'd like a painted Jove,
Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.
DRYDEN: _Annus Mirabilis,_ St. 39.

                Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 92.


Even at the turning o' the tide.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 3.

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
  Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles to-day,
  To-morrow will be dying.
HERRICK: _To Virgins to Make Much of Time._

Threefold the stride of Time, from first to last!
Loitering slow, the FUTURE creepeth--
Arrow-swift, the PRESENT sweepeth--
And motionless forever stands the PAST.
SCHILLER: _Sentences of Confucius, Time._


This priest he merry is and blithe
  Three quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like a scythe,
  When tithing-time draws near.
COWPER: _Yearly Distress,_ St. 2.


We all are soldiers, and all venture lives;
And where there is no difference in men's worth,
Titles are jests.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _King or No King,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Titles are marks of honest men and wise;
The fool or knave that wears a title, lies.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire i., Line 137.


Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 800.


Sublime tobacco! which from east to west
Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest.
BYRON: _The Island,_ Canto ii., St. 19.


Happy the man and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own.
DRYDEN: _Im. of Horace,_ Bk. iii., Ode 29, Line 65.

Our cares are all To-day, our joys are all To-day;
And in one little word, our life, what is it but--To-day?
TUPPER: _Proverbial Phil. of To-day_


No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him. There is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blessed are the horny hands of toil.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _A Glance Behind the Curtain._


E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
  E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
GRAY: _Elegy,_ St. 23.


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 fools
The way to dusty death.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act v., Sc. 5.

Defer not till to-morrow to be wise,
To-morrow's sun on thee may never rise.
CONGREVE: _Letter to Cobham._

To-morrow comes and we are where?
Then let us live to-day.
SCHILLER: _The Victory Feast,_ St. 13.

Where art thou, beloved To-morrow?
Whom young and old, and strong and weak,
Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,
Thy sweet smiles we ever seek--
In thy place--ah! well-a-day!
We find the thing we fled--To-day.
SHELLEY: _To-morrow._


While thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
SHAKS.: _Tempest,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fawning.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Sacred interpreter of human thought,
How few respect or use thee as they ought!
But all shall give account of every wrong,
Who dare dishonor or defile the tongue.
COWPER: _Conversation,_ Line 23.


For all a rhetorician's rules
Teach nothing but to name his tools.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 89.


There was never yet philosopher
That could endure the toothache patiently.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar
But bind him to his native mountains more.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 217.


The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss,
And boil in endless torture.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 69.


Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees.
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 75.


God made the country, and man made the town.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk i., Line 749.


Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys,
And eagerly pursues imaginary joys.
AKENSIDE: _Virtuoso,_ St. 10.


But times are alter'd; trade's unfeeling train
Usurp the land, and dispossess the swain;
Along the lawn, where scatter'd hamlets rose,
Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 63.

Trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay.
DR. JOHNSON: _Line added to Goldsmith's Des. Village._


Like ships that have gone down at sea
When heaven was all tranquillity.
MOORE: _Lalla Rookh, The Light of the Harem._


Now spurs the lated traveller apace
To gain the timely inn.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

When I was at home, I was in a better place;
But travellers must be content.
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

             In travelling
I shape myself betimes to idleness
And take fools' pleasures....
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. i.


Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

          So Judas kiss'd his master,
And cried--All hail! when as he meant--all harm.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 7.

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason.
SIR JOHN HARRINGTON: _Epigrams,_ Bk. iv., Epigram 5.

Treason is not own'd when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.
DRYDEN: _Medals,_ Line 207.


              The unsunn'd heaps
Of miser's treasure.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 398.


Trees can smile in light at the sinking sun
Just as the storm comes, as a girl would look
On a departing lover--most serene.
ROBERT BROWNING: _Pauline,_ Line 726.

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them.

Sure thou didst flourish once! and many springs,
Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers,
Passed o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings,
Which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers.
HENRY VAUGHAN: _The Timber._

A brotherhood of venerable trees.
WORDSWORTH: _Sonnet composed at ---- Castle._


We learn through trial.
MARGARET J. PRESTON: _Attainment,_ St. 7.


Since trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our misery from our foibles springs.
HANNAH MORE: _Sensibility._

Think nought a trifle, though it small appear;
Small sands the mountain, moments make the year;
And trifles life.
YOUNG: _Love of Fame,_ Satire vi., Line 193.


Why comes temptation, but for man to meet
And master, and make crouch beneath his foot,
And so be pedestaled in triumph?
ROBERT BROWNING: _The Ring and the Book,_ Line 1185.


Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.


Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
CHAUCER: _The Frankeleines Tale,_ Line 11789.

O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.
SHAKS.: _1 Henry IV.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

Truth crushed to earth shall rise again:
The eternal years of God are hers.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _The Battle-field._

Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie;
A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 13.

Truth has such a face and such a mien,
As to be lov'd, needs only to be seen.
DRYDEN: _Hind and Panther,_ Pt. i., Line 33.

He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are slaves beside.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. v., Line 133.

              Truth is one;
And, in all lands beneath the sun,
Whoso hath eyes to see may see
The tokens of its unity.
WHITTIER: _Miriam._

Truth is truth howe'er it strike.
ROBERT BROWNING: _La Saisiaz,_ Line 198.

I love truth: truth's no cleaner thing than love.
MRS. BROWNING: _Aurora Leigh,_ Bk. iii., Line 735.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
KEATS: _Ode on a Grecian Urn._

Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _Present Crisis,_ St. 8.


Then comes the tulip race, where beauty plays
Her idle freaks; from family diffused
To family, as flies the father-dust,
The varied colors run; and while they break
On the charmed eye, the exulting florist marks,
With secret pride, the wonders of his hand.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Spring,_ Line 539.


Strange that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune so long!
WATTS: _Hymns and Spiritual Songs,_ Bk. ii., Hymn 19.


Green be the turf above thee,
  Friend of my better days!
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: _On Joseph Rodman Drake._


Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.
POPE: _Prologue to the Satires,_ Line 197.


Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. iv., Line 598.

The quiet stars came out, one after one;
The holy twilight fell upon the sea,
The summer day was done.
CELIA THAXTER: _A Summer Day,_ St. 15


'Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss.
SHAKS.: _Pericles,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

'Twixt kings and tyrants there's this difference known--
Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their own.
HERRICK: _Aph. Kings and Tyrants._

Think'st thou there is no tyranny but that
Of blood and chains?
BYRON: _Sardanapalus,_ Act i., Sc. 2.



Oh, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day!
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.


Two souls with but a single thought,
Two hearts that beat as one.
MARIA WHITE LOWELL: _Ingomar the Barbarian,_ Act ii.


This was the most unkindest cut of all.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


      These things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.
SHAKS.: _Jul. Cæsar,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.



He trudged along, unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
DRYDEN: _Cym. and Iph.,_ Line 84.


Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say,
Birds choose their mates, and couple too, this day;
But by their flight I never can divine
When I shall couple with my Valentine.
HERRICK: _Aph. To His Valentine._


Fear to do base unworthy things is valor;
If they be done to us, to suffer them,
Is valor too.
BEN JONSON: _New Inn,_ Act iv., Sc. 3.


Light vanity, insatiate cormorant
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

What dotage will not Vanity maintain?
What web too weak to catch a modern brain?
COWPER: _Expostulation,_ Line 630.


A wing vapor melting in a tear.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xix., Line 143.


Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavor.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 606.


          Heaven's ebon vault
Studded with stars unutterably bright.
SHELLEY: _Queen Mab._


In high vengeance there is noble scorn.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iv.


I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 1.

In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iv., St. 3.


Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise.
POPE: _Wife of Bath, Her Prologue,_ Line 369.


Whoe'er offends at some unlucky time
Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme.
POPE: Satire i., Bk. ii., Line 76.

Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
She feels no biting pang the while she sings.
RICHARD GIFFORD: _Contemplation._


There is no vice so simple, but assumes
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 760.

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. ii., Line 217.


Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

"But what good came of it at last?"
Quoth little Peterkin.
"Why, that I cannot tell," said he;
"But 'twas a famous victory."
ROBERT SOUTHEY: _Battle of Blenheim._


Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.
GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village._

  Suburban villas, highway-side retreats,
That dread th' encroachment of our growing streets,
Tight boxes neatly sash'd, and in a blaze
With all a July sun's collected rays,
Delight the citizen, who gasping there,
Breathes clouds of dust, and calls it country air.
COWPER: _Retirement,_ Line 481.


Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes;
That when I note another man like him
I may avoid him.
SHAKS.: _Much Ado,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.


A violet by a mossy stone
  Half hidden from the eye;
Fair as a star, when only one
  Is shining in the sky.
WORDSWORTH: _She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways._

Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
SHELLEY: _Music, When Soft Voices Die._

What thought is folded in thy leaves!
What tender thought, what speechless pain!
I hold thy faded lips to mine,
Thou darling of the April rain!


Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do;
Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
As if we had them not.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues
We write in water.
SHAKS.: _Henry III.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

Assume a virtue if you have it not.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt;
Surpris'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd;
Yea, even that which mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 589.

Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed,
What then? Is the reward of virtue bread?
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 149.


And in clear dream and solemn vision
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 453.


             Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.
SHAKS.: _King Lear,_ Act v., Sc. 3.


Unheedful vows may needfully be broken.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 6.

It is the hour when lovers' vows
  Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
BYRON: _Parisina,_ St. 1.



Quoth she, I've heard old cunning stagers
Say fools for arguments use wagers.
BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. ii., Canto i., Line 297.


                  A pillar'd shade
High overarch'd, and echoing walks between.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 1106.

Whene'er I take my walks abroad,
  How many poor I see!
WATTS: _Divine Songs,_ Song iv.


          O war, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heav'ns do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance!--Let no soldier fly;
He that is truly delicate to war
Hath no self-love: nor he that loves himself.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

War's a game, which, were their subjects wise,
Kings would not play at.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. v., Line 186.

War, war is still the cry, "War even to the knife!"
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto i., St. 86.

War is a terrible trade; but in the cause that is righteous,
Sweet is the smell of powder.
LONGFELLOW: _Courtship of Miles Standish,_ Pt. iv., Line 135.


Men that stumble at the threshold,
Are well foretold that danger lurks within.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act iv., Sc. 7.


But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
  With his martial cloak around him.
CHARLES WOLFE: _Burial of Sir John Moore._


Washington's a watchword such as ne'er
Shall sink while there's an echo left to air.
BYRON: _Age of Bronze,_ St. 5.


Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry VI.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

              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 famish'd 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.
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto ii., St. 84.


So gently shuts the eye of day;
  So dies a wave along the shore.
MRS. BARBAULD: _Death of the Virtuous._

A life on the ocean wave!
  A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
  And the winds their revels keep!
EPES SARGENT: _Life On the Ocean Wave._


Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav'n's wide, pathless way.
MILTON: _Il Penseroso,_ Line 65.


      If weakness may excuse,
What murderer, what traitor, parricide,
Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it?
All wickedness is weakness; that plea, therefore,
With God or man will gain thee no remission.
MILTON: _Sam. Agonistes,_ Line 831.


         If thou art rich, thou art poor;
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee.
SHAKS.: _M. for M.,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

To purchase heaven, has gold the power?
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life, can love be bought with gold?
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold?
DR. JOHNSON: _To a Friend._


       Have hung
My dank and dropping weeds
To the stern god of sea.
MILTON: _Tr. of Horace,_ Bk. i., Ode 5.


So, you are very welcome to our house.
It must appear in other ways than words,
Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep,
And I could laugh; I am light and heavy: Welcome.
SHAKS.: _Coriolanus,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


I wandered by the brookside,
  I wandered by the mill;
I could not hear the brook flow,
  The noisy wheel was still.


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


May widows wed as often as they can,
And ever for the better change their man;
And some devouring plague pursue their lives,
Who will not well be govern'd by their wives.
DRYDEN: _Wife of Bath,_ Line 543.


        She is mine own:
And I as rich in having such a jewel,
As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too.
SHAKS.: _Mer. W. of W.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks,
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 267.

She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
BURNS: _My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing._

The world well tried--the sweetest thing in life
Is the unclouded welcome of a wife.
N.P. WILLIS: _Lady Jane,_ Canto ii., St. 11.


Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 1.


A weapon that comes down as still
  As snowflakes fall upon the sod;
But executes a freeman's will,
  As lightning does the will of God.
JOHN PIERPONT: _A Word from a Petitioner._


A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree;
  Oh, willow, willow, willow!
With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee,
  Oh, willow, willow, willow!
THOMAS PERCY: _Willow, Willow, Willow._


What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
Not the ill wind which blows none to good.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

The wind is rising; it seizes and shakes
The doors and window-blinds and makes
Mysterious moanings in the halls;
The convent-chimneys seem almost
The trumpets of some heavenly host,
Setting its watch upon our walls!
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Abbot Joachim._

A gentle wind of western birth,
From some far summer sea,
Wakes daisies in the wintry earth.
GEORGE MACDONALD: _Songs of the Spring Days._

A melancholy sound is in the air,
A deep sigh in the distance, a shrill wail
Around my dwelling. 'Tis the Wind of night.


Rich windows that exclude the light,
  And passages that lead to nothing.
GRAY: _A Long Story._


Wine makes Love forget its care,
And mirth exalts a feast.
PARNELL: _Anacreontic, "Gay Bacchus, etc.",_ St. 2.

And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile.
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xiv., Line 520.


This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
To waft me from distraction.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 85.

How at heaven's gates she claps her wings,
The morne not waking til she sings.
JOHN LYLY: _Cupid and Campaspe,_ Act v., Sc. 1


Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

See, Winter comes to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train,
Vapors, and clouds, and storms.
THOMSON: _Seasons, Winter,_ Line 1.

But Winter has yet brighter scenes--he boasts
Splendors beyond what gorgeous Summer knows;
Or Autumn with his many fruits, and woods
All flushed with many hues.

No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array,
But winter lingering chills the lap of May.
GOLDSMITH: _Traveller,_ Line 171.

In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane
The redbreast looks in vain
  For hips and haws,
Lo, shining flowers upon my window-pane
  The silver pencil of the winter draws.


Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it.
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act iii., Sc. 11.

            What is it to be wise?
'Tis but to know how little can be known;
To see all others' faults, and feel your own.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 260.

       The stream from Wisdom's well,
Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
BAYARD TAYLOR: _Wisdom of All._

               And Wisdom's self
Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude.
MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 373.


Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act iv., Sc. 4.

Our wishes lengthen, as our sun declines.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 662.


I hold a mouses wit not worth a leke,
That hath but one hole for to sterten to.
CHAUCER: _Canterbury Tales, The Wif of Bathes Prologue,_ Line 6154.

Wit's an unruly engine, wildly striking
Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer.
HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 41.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
DRYDEN: _Absalom and Achitophel,_ Pt. i., Line 163.

Men famed for wit, of dangerous talents vain,
Treat those of common parts with proud disdain.
CRABBE: _Patron,_ Line 229.

Though I am young, I scorn to flit
On the wings of borrowed wit.
GEORGE WITHER: _The Shepherd's Hunting._


              Midnight hags,
By force of potent spells, of bloody characters,
And conjurations, horrible to hear,
Call fiends and spectres from the yawning deep,
And set the ministers of hell at work.
ROWE: _Jane Shore,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes;
They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night iii., Line 63.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.
BURNS: _Sweet Sensibility._


He's the symbol of hunger the whole earth through,
His spectre sits at the door or cave,
And the homeless hear with a thrill of fear
The sound of his wind-swept voice on the air.
HAMLIN GARLAND: _The Gaunt Gray Wolf._


Women are as roses; whose fair flower,
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
SHAKS.: _Tw. Night,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.

Honor to women! to them it is given
To garden the earth with the roses of Heaven.
SCHILLER: _Honor to Women._

          Nothing lovelier can be found
In woman, than to study household good,
And good works in her husband to promote.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 232.

O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee
To temper man; we had been brutes without you.
OTWAY: _Venice Preserved,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Where is the man who has the power and skill
To stem the torrent of a woman's will?
For if she will, she will, you may depend on 't;
And if she won't, she won't; so there's an end on 't.
_Copied from the pillar erected on the mount in the
  Dane John Field, Canterbury._  [_Examiner_: May 31, 1829.]

And yet believe me, good as well as ill,
Woman's at best a contradiction still.
Heaven, when it strives to polish all it can
Its last best work, but forms a softer man.
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 269.

Earth's noblest thing, a woman perfected.

And whether coldness, pride, or virtue, dignify
A woman; so she's good, what does it signify?
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiv., St. 57.

Oh, woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!
SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., St. 30.

The woman that deliberates is lost.
ADDISON: _Cato,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

A woman mixed of such fine elements
That were all virtue and religion dead
She'd make them newly, being what she was.
GEORGE ELIOT: _The Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. ii.

Till we are built like angels, with hammer, and chisel, and pen,
We will work for ourselves and a woman, for ever and ever, Amen.
RUDYARD KIPLING: _An Imperial Rescript._


A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto ii., St. 2.


Yon woodland, like a human mind,
  Has many a phase of dark and light;
Now dim with shadows wandering blind,
  Now radiant with fair shapes of light.


Woodman, spare that tree!
  Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
  And I'll protect it now.
GEORGE P. MORRIS: _Woodman, Spare that Tree._


               Fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odors from the spicy shrub.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. viii., Line 508.


              'Tis well said again,
And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well:
And yet words are no deeds.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts, never to heaven go.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

            Apt words have power to 'suage
The tumors of a troubled mind;
And are as balm to fester'd wounds.
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 184.

Our words have wings, but fly not where we would.
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iii.

Words, however, are things.
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto ii., St. 6.


Time may restore us in his course
Goethe's sage mind and Byron's force;
But where will Europe's latter hour
Again find Wordsworth's healing power?
MATTHEW ARNOLD: _Memorial Verses._


       Free men freely work:
Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.
MRS. BROWNING: _Aurora Leigh,_ Bk. viii., Line 752.

Men must work, and women must weep.
CHARLES KINGSLEY: _The Three Fishers._


Why, then, the world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open.
SHAKS.: _Mer. W. of W.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Fast by hanging in a golden chain,
This pendent world, in bigness as a star.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ii., Line 1051.

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.
MOORE: _This World is all a Fleeting Show._

I have not loved the world, nor the world me.
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 113.


The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on.
SHAKS.: _3 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.


There may be worship without words.
LONGFELLOW: _My Cathedral._


Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow;
The rest is all but leather or prunella.
POPE: _Essay on Man,_ Epis. iv., Line 203.


Give me another horse: bind up my wounds.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike.
POPE: _Prol. to the Satires,_ Line 201.


Come not within the measure of my wrath.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing!
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. i., Line 1.


Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.


Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,
Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon.
SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act i., Sc. 4.


A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man.
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act v., Sc. 1.


You write with ease to show your breeding,
But easy writing's curs'd hard reading.
SHERIDAN: _Clio's Prot._

Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.


         Behold on wrong
Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong!
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. viii., Line 367.

Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. iii.



Xerxes did die,
And so must I.
_From the New England Primer._



        Jumping o'er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hourglass.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., Chorus.

Years following years, steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.
POPE: Satire vi., Line 72.

I sigh not over vanished years,
But watch the years that hasten by.
Look, how they come,--a mingled crowd
Of bright and dark, but rapid days.

         None would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain.
DRYDEN: _Aurengzebe,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.


Oh, call back yesterday, bid time return!
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.


Old yew, which graspest at the stones
    That name the underlying dead,
    Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.
TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. ii., St. 1.


        For youth no less becomes
The light and careless livery that it wears,
Than settled age his sables, and his weeds,
Importing health and graveness.
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 7.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn,
Like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
JEAN INGELOW: _Four Bridges,_ St. 56.

How beautiful is youth! how bright it gleams
With its illusions, aspirations, dreams!
LONGFELLOW: _Morituri Salutamus._

In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
  Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.
GRAY: _Bard,_ Pt. ii., St. 2, Line 9.



Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

        His zeal
None seconded, as out of season judg'd,
Or singular and rash.
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. v., Line 849.


The references which follow the Chronological Data are the _numbers_
of the Quotations in consecutive order from the respective Authors
under which they are placed.

Addison, Joseph.
b. Milston, Wiltshire, Eng., 1672; d. London, Eng., 1719.
--50, 393, 556, 629, 700, 713, 749, 766, 925, 969,
1078, 1583, 1814, 2091.

Akenside, Mark.
b. Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1721; d. London, Eng., 1770.
--1865, 1938.

Aldrich, James.
b. New York, 1810; d 1856.

Aldrich, Thomas Bailey.
b. Portsmouth, N.H., 1836; d. 1907.
--238, 407, 771, 2009.

Allen, Elizabeth Akers.
b. Strong, Me., 1832; ....

Armstrong, John.
b. Liddesdale, Eng, 1709; d. London, Eng., 1779.

Arnold, Sir Edwin.
b. London, 1832; d. 1904.

Arnold, Matthew.
b. Laleham, Middlesex, Eng., 1822; d. Eng, 1888.
--1537, 2103.

Aytoun, William Edmondstoune.
b. Fifeshire, 1813;  d. 1865.

Bailey, Philip James.
b. Nottingham, Eng, 1816; d. 1902.
--43, 79, 322, 531, 614, 746, 967, 1349, 1770, 1833.

Baillie, Joanna.
b. Lanarkshire, Scot, 1762; d. Hampstead, Eng., 1851.

Barbauld, Anna Lætitia.
b. Leicestershire, Eng., 1743; d. 1825.
--782, 1717, 2032.

Barrington, George.
b. Maynooth, Ireland, 1755; d. New South Wales at a great age.

Barry, Michael J.
_Circa_ 1815.

Baxter, Richard.
b. Rowdon, Shropshire, Eng., 1615; d. 1691.

Bayly, Thomas Haynes.
b. near Bath, Eng., 1797; d. 1839.
--218, 1335.

Beattie, James.
b. Laurencekirk Scot., 1735; d. Aberdeen, Scot., 1803.
--60, 485, 670, 837.

Beaumont and Fletcher.
  Beaumont, Francis.
    b. Leicestershire, Eng., 1586; d. 1615.
  Fletcher, John.
    b. Rye, Eng., 1576; d. London, Eng., 1625.
--19, 22, 204, 408, 559, 598, 1154,
1231, 1568, 1861, 1917, 2042.

Benserade, Isaac de.
b. in Upper Normandy, 1612; d. 1691.

Blair, Robert.
b. Edinburgh, Scot., 1699; d. Athelstaneford, Scot., 1747.
--85, 819, 836, 1651.

Booth, Barton.
b. Lancashire, Eng, 1681; d. 1733.

Boyesen, Hjalmar Hjorth.
b. Fredericksvern, Norway, 1848; d. 1895.
--1028, 1162.

Bramston, James.
b. England; d. 1744.

Brown, John.
b. England, 1715; d. 1766.
--49, 431.

Brown, Tom.
b. Shropshire, Eng., 1663; d. 1704.

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett.
b. London, Eng., 1809; d. Florence, Italy, 1861.
--160, 196, 650, 778, 848, 887, 1006, 1039, 1073, 1296, 1373, 1659,
1709, 1733, 1968, 2104.

Browning, Robert.
b. Camberwell, Eng., 1812; d. 1889.
--65, 129, 251, 474, 519, 681, 747, 865, 993, 994, 996, 1086, 1123,
1188, 1222, 1228, 1312, 1344, 1351, 1450, 1667, 1710, 1822,
1825, 1901, 1950, 1957, 1967.

Bryant, William Cullen.
b. Cummington, Mass., 1794; d. New York, 1878.
--234, 240, 317, 627, 697, 725, 758, 851, 906,
1155, 1246, 1277, 1321, 1445, 1604, 1663, 1793, 1819, 1951,
1962, 2055, 2063, 2128.

Bulwer, Edward George Earle Lytton [Baron Lytton].
b. London, Eng., 1803; d. Torquay, France, 1873.

Bunn, Alfred.
b. England; d. 1860.

Bunyan, John.
b. Elstow, Eng., 1628; d. London, Eng., 1688.
--664, 1383.

Burns, Robert.
b. Ayr, Scot., 1759; d. Dumfries, Scot., 1796.
--20, 208, 222, 242, 552, 588, 592, 604, 694, 773, 783, 954, 964, 986,
1080, 1095, 1106, 1109, 1129, 1147, 1193, 1345, 1435, 1588,
1599, 1600, 1642, 1704, 2047, 2080.

Butler, Samuel.
b. Worcestershire, Eng., 1612; d. London, Eng., 1680.
--39, 153, 236, 303, 305, 405, 423, 549, 566, 574,
615, 799, 972, 992, 1014, 1110, 1209, 1271, 1284, 1334, 1347,
1394, 1405, 1449, 1496, 1504, 1510, 1557, 1585, 1682, 1705,
1811, 1852, 1858, 1886, 1932, 2019.

Byron, George Gordon, Lord.
b. London, Eng., 1788; d. Missolonghi, Greece, 1824.
--31, 59, 62, 116, 133, 148, 169, 176, 209, 315, 351, 352, 354,
368, 388, 419, 451, 460, 469, 470, 486, 506, 511, 534, 537, 553, 582,
594, 612, 619, 651, 677, 734, 748, 751, 787, 813, 841, 842, 843, 850,
878, 879, 898, 908, 910, 995, 1059, 1075, 1087, 1115, 1131, 1133,
1166, 1221, 1229, 1232, 1251, 1275, 1303, 1337, 1391, 1407,
1419, 1442, 1498, 1506, 1522, 1529, 1538, 1556, 1563, 1573,
1575, 1580, 1596, 1601, 1620, 1621, 1625, 1668, 1672, 1679,
1686, 1688, 1716, 1718, 1731, 1751, 1792, 1794, 1818, 1847,
1851, 1862, 1884, 1897, 1910, 1920, 1935, 1979, 1993, 1994,
2018, 2025, 2029, 2031, 2059, 2089, 2094, 2110.

Campbell, Thomas.
b. Glasgow, Scot., 1777; d. Boulogne, France, 1844.
--142, 149, 359, 570, 715, 723, 933, 1243, 1390,
1541, 1584, 1593, 1694, 1703, 1741, 1877.

Canning, George.
b. London, Eng., 1770; d. Cheswick, Eng., 1827.

Carey, Henry.
b. 1663; d. Coldbath-Fields, Eng., 1743.

Carlyle, Thomas.
b. Ecclefechan, Scot., 1795; d. Chelsea, near London, Eng., 1881.
--1090, 1150.

Cary, Alice.
b. near Cincinnati, O., 1820; d. New York City, 1871.
--536, 1262.

Cary, Phoebe.
b. near Cincinnati, O., 1824; d. New York City, 1871.

Chapman, George.
b. Hitchin, Eng, 1557; d. London, Eng., 1634.

Chatterton, Thomas.
b. Bristol, Eng, 1752; d. London, Eng., 1770.

Chaucer, Geoffrey.
b. London, Eng., 1328; d. 1400.
--40, 104, 1647, 1853, 1960, 2072.

Chorley, Henry Fothergill.
b. 1808; d. 1872.

Churchill, Charles.
b. Westminster, Eng., 1731; d. Boulogne, France, 1764.
--98, 100, 135, 530, 698, 703, 874, 978, 1713, 1749.

Clemmer, Mary.
b. Utica, N.Y., 1839; d. 1884.

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor.
b. Devonshire, Eng., 1772; d. London, Eng., 1834.
--71, 143, 282, 395, 465, 484, 599, 708, 728,
979, 1138, 1227, 1336, 1372, 1379, 1431, 1473, 1507, 1561, 1673.

Collins, William.
b. Chichester, Eng., 1720; d. Chichester, Eng., 1756.
--227, 928, 1035, 1239.

Colman, George [the younger].
b. 1762; d. London, Eng., 1836.

Congreve, William.
b. Bardsey, Eng., 1670; d. London, Eng., 1729.
--185, 775, 1237, 1867, 1926.

Cook, Eliza.
b. London, Eng., 1817; d. 1889.

"Cornwall, Barry."

Cowley, Abraham.
b. London, Eng., 1618, d. Chertsey, Eng., 1667.
--479, 786.

Cowper, William.
b. Great Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, Eng., 1731; d. 1800.
--30, 102, 146, 175, 365, 403, 412, 586, 591,
656, 739, 762, 868, 889, 914, 960, 1036, 1079, 1201, 1393, 1401, 1404,
1437, 1466, 1475, 1571, 1637, 1723, 1752, 1759, 1799, 1916, 1931, 1937,
1965, 1988, 1990, 2004, 2024, 2049.

Crabbe, George.
b. Aldborough, Eng., 1754; d. Trowbridge, Eng., 1832.
--44, 205, 330, 379, 428, 1382, 1412, 1515, 1576, 1617, 1702, 1880, 2075.

Cranch, Christopher Pearse.
b. Alexandria, Va., 1813; d. 1892.

Crashaw, Richard.
b. London, Eng., about 1616; d. Italy, about 1650.
--541, 814.

Croly, George.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1780; d. 1860.

Dana, Richard Henry.
b. Cambridge, Mass., 1787; d. Boston, Mass., 1878.

Dante, Alighieri.
b. Florence, Italy, 1265; d. Ravenna, 1321.

Darwin, Erasmus.
b. Newark, Eng., 1731; d. Derby, Eng., 1802.

Defoe, Daniel.
b. London, Eng., 1661; d. London, Eng., 1731.
--384, 1300.

De L'Isle, Joseph Rouget.
b. Lons-le Saunice, France, 1760; d. 1836.

Dickens, Charles.
b. Landport, near Portsmouth, Eng., 1812; d. Gadshill,
  near Rochester, Eng., 1870.

Donne, John, D.D.
b. London, Eng., 1573; d. London, Eng., 1631.

Dorr, Julia Caroline Ripley.
b. Charleston, S.C., 1825; ....
--1493, 1830.

Drake, Joseph Rodman.
b. New York City, 1795; d. New York City, 1820.
--714, 761.

Dryden, John.
b. Aldwinkle, Eng., 1631; d. London, Eng., 1701.
--158, 226, 252, 337, 344, 504, 680, 776, 790, 858, 860,
871, 884, 1179, 1234, 1299, 1346, 1358, 1362, 1365, 1425, 1460, 1549,
1577, 1610, 1764, 1772, 1836, 1909, 1921, 1948, 1964, 1984, 2043, 2074,

Dwight, Timothy.
b. Northampton, Mass., 1752; d. New Haven, Conn., 1817.

Dyer, Sir Edward,
b. Sharpham, near Glastonbury, _circa_ 1540; d. 1607.
--331, 1190.

Dyer, John.
b. 1700; d. 1758.

Eliot, George [Marian Evans Cross],
b. Warwickshire, Eng., 1820; d. London, Eng., 1880.
--862, 1091, 1256, 1276, 1350, 1478, 1534, 1779, 1832, 1944, 1992, 2092,

Elliott, Ebenezer.
b. Masborough, Eng., 1781; d. near Barnsley, Eng., 1849.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo.
b. Boston, Mass., 1803; d. Concord, Mass., 1882.
--105, 161, 191, 239, 247, 249, 448, 605, 759,
765, 791, 817, 944, 1428, 1648, 1678, 1748.

Everett, Edward.
b. Dorchester, Mass., 1794; d. 1865.

Faber, Frederick William.
b. Durham, Eng., 1814; d. Brompton, Eng., 1863.

Falconer, William.
b. Edinburgh, Scot., 1732; shipwrecked near Cape Good Hope, 1769.
--1059, 1675.

Fenner, Cornelius G.
b. 1822; d. 1847.

Fielding, Henry.
b. Sharpham Park, Eng., 1707; d. Lisbon, Spain, 1754.

Fields, James Thomas.
b. Portsmouth, N.H., 1817; d. 1881.

Finch, Francis M.
b. Ithaca, N.Y., 1827; ....

Fletcher, John.
b. Northhamptonshire, Eng., 1576; d. 1625.
--1304, 1655.

Ford, John.
b. Islington, Eng., 1586; d. _circa_ 1639.

Franklin, Benjamin. ["Richard Saunders"].
b. Boston, Mass., 1706; d. Philadelphia, Penn., 1790.

Garland, Hamlin.
b. West Salem, Wis., 1860; ....
--346, 1230, 1761, 2081.

Garrick, David.
b. Lichfield, Eng, 1716; d. London, Eng., 1779.
--406, 1724.

Garth, Sir  Samuel.
b. Bolam, Eng., _circa_ 1670; d. London, Eng., 1718.

Gay, John.
b. near Barnstaple Eng., 1688; d. London, Eng., 1732.
--32, 124, 620, 642, 730, 781, 883, 952, 1416, 1434, 1452,
1562, 1608, 1677.

Gifford, Richard.
b. 1725; d. North Okendon, Eng., 1807.

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von.
b. Frankfort-on-the-Main, Germany, 1749; d. Weimar, Germany, 1832.

Goldsmith, Oliver.
b. Pallis, Ireland, 1728; d. London, Eng., 1774.
--35, 58, 107, 189, 340, 341, 342, 345, 364, 466, 517, 639, 695,
707, 710, 733, 788, 849, 901, 1063, 1107, 1114, 1137, 1297, 1339, 1487,
1495, 1589, 1591, 1742, 1750, 1756, 1934, 1939, 2003, 2064.

Gould, Hannah Flagg.
b. Lancaster, Vt., 1789; d. Newburyport, Mass, 1865.

Gray, Thomas.
b. London, Eng., 1716; d. Cambridge, Eng., 1771.
--103, 193, 216, 378, 382, 385, 443, 450, 613, 624, 704, 716,
720, 789, 832, 833, 863, 963, 1041, 1141, 1174, 1687, 1892, 1924,
2056, 2136.

Green, Matthew.
b. London (?), Eng., 1696; d. 1737.

Greene, Robert.
b. Norwich (?), _circa_ 1560; d. near Dowgate, Eng., 1592.

Halleck, Fitz-Greene.
b. Guilford, Conn., 1770; d. Guilford, Conn., 1867.
--493, 904, 1313, 1973.

Halpine, Charles Grahame ["Miles O'Reilly"],
b. Oldcastle, Meath, Ireland, 1829; d. New York City, 1868.

Harrington, Sir John.
b. near Bath, Eng, _circa_ 1561; d. 1612.

Harte, Francis Bret.
b. Albany, N.Y., 1839; d. London, Eng., 1902.
--433, 1306, 1739.

Havergal, Frances Ridley.
b. Worcestershire, Eng., 1836; d. Swansea, Eng., 1879.

Hay, John.
b. Salem, Ind., 1838; d. 1905.

Hayne, Paul Hamilton.
b. Charleston, S.C., 1831: d. 1886.

Heber, Reginald.
b. Cheshire,  Eng., 1783; d. Trichinopoly, India, 1826.
--501, 934, 1295.

Hemans, Felicia Dorothea.
b. Liverpool, Eng, 1793; d. Dublin, Ireland, 1835.
--496, 717, 907, 1683, 1776.

Herbert, George.
b. in Montgomery Castle, Wales, 1593; d. Bemerton, Wales, 1632.
--24, 199, 250, 602, 687, 784, 1083,
1145, 1348, 1467, 1842, 1849, 1963, 2073.

Herrick, Robert.
b. London, Eng., 1591; d. Dean Prior, Eng., 1674.
--11, 42, 280, 461, 699, 1697, 1791, 1872, 1914, 1978, 1985.

Heywood, Thomas.
b. Lincolnshire, Eng., 1570; d. 1649.
--28, 920.

Hogg, James.
b. Ettrick Forest, Scot., 1772; d. 1835.

Holmes, Oliver Wendell.
b. Cambridge, Mass., 1809; d. 1894.
--233, 618, 649, 929, 1241, 1307, 1314, 1440, 1547, 1550, 1800.

Home, John.
b. Ancrum, Scot., 1724; d. 1808.

Hood, Thomas.
b. London, Eng., 1798-9; d. London, Eng., 1845.
--131, 229, 298, 463, 533, 583, 867, 1208, 1282, 1414, 1438,
1472, 1652, 1695, 1788, 1904.

Hopkinson, Joseph.
b. Philadelphia, Penn., 1770; d. 1842.

Howe, Julia Ward.
b. New York, 1819; ....

Hunt, Helen [Mrs. Jackson].
b. Amherst, Mass., 1831; d. San Francisco, Cal., 1885.
--130, 1156, 1167.

Hunt, James Henry Leigh.
b. Southgate, near London, Eng., 1784; d. 1859.

Hutchinson, Ellen Mackay.

Ingelow, Jean.
b. Ipswich Eng., 1830; d. 1897.
--9, 180, 669, 1121, 1760, 2134.

Jefferys, Charles.
b. 1807; d. 1865.
--231, 245.

Johnson, Dr. Samuel.
b. Lichfield, Eng., 1709; d. London, Eng., 1784.
--132, 580, 590, 768, 815, 857, 945, 965, 989,
1003, 1111, 1940, 2037.

Jones, Sir William.
b. London, Eng., 1746; d. India, 1794.
--1064, 1322.

Jonson, Ben.
b. London, Eng., 1573-4; d. London, Eng., 1637.
--267, 548, 828, 1016, 1102, 1210, 1508, 1616, 1658, 1986.

Keats, John.
b. London, Eng., 1795; d. Rome, Italy, 1821.
--127, 159, 919, 1130, 1236, 1267, 1352, 1433, 1535, 1730, 1969.

Keble, John.
b. Coln-St.-Aldwynds, Eng., _circa_ 1792; d. Bournemouth, Eng., 1866.

Kemble, Frances Anne.
b. London, Eng., 1811; d. 1893.

Kingsley, Charles.
b. Devonshire, Eng., 1819; d. Eversley, Eng., 1875.
--15, 277, 290, 348, 516, 785, 823, 1031, 1161, 1360,
1519, 2105.

Kipling, Rudyard.
b. Bombay, India, 1865; ....
--744, 2093.

Lamb, Charles.
b. London, Eng., 1775; d. London, Eng., 1834.

Landor, Walter Savage.
b. Ipsley Court, Warwickshire, Eng., 1775; d. Florence, Italy, 1864.
--263, 688.

Landsdowne, Lord [George Granville].
b. Bideford, Eng., 1667; d. London, Eng., 1735.

Larcom, Lucy.
b. Beverly Farms, Mass., 1826, d. 1893.

Lee, Nathaniel.
b. England, 1655; d. London, Eng., 1692.

Linley, George.
b. London, Eng., 1798; d. France, 1865.
--7, 1178.

Lofft, Capel.
b. London, Eng., 1751, d. France, 1824.

Logan, John.
b. Soutra, Scot., 1748, d. 1788.

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth.
b. Portland, Me., 1807, d. Cambridge, Mass., 1882.
--110, 141, 150, 177, 307, 321, 499, 632, 654, 738, 742, 780,
796, 942, 948, 1017, 1045, 1055, 1074, 1089, 1261, 1302, 1311,
1316, 1427, 1551, 1603, 1633, 1734, 1806, 1831, 1887, 1889,
2026, 2053, 2112, 2135.

Lovelace, Richard.
b. Woolwich, Eng., 1618; d. London, Eng., 1658.
--144, 1384.

Lover, Samuel.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1797; d. 1868.

Lowe, John.
b. 1750; d. 1798.

Lowell, James Russell.
b. Cambridge, Mass., 1819; d. 1891.
--304, 323, 335, 391, 503, 514, 611, 635, 810, 1012, 1054,
1226, 1420, 1923, 1970, 2088.

Lowell, Maria White.
b. Watertown, Mass., 1821; d. 1853.

Lowth, Robert.
b. Winchester, Eng., 1710; d. 1787.

Lyly, John.
b. Kent Eng., _circa_ 1553; d. _circa_ 1600.

Macaulay, Thomas Babington.
b. Rothley Temple, Eng., 1800; d. Kensington, London, Eng., 1859.

Macdonald, George.
b. Huntley, Scot., 1824; d. 1905.

Marlowe, Christopher.
b. Canterbury, Eng., 1565; d. Deptford, Eng., 1593.
--213, 1511, 1518, 1670.

Martial [Marcus Valerius Martialis].
b. Bilbilis, Spain, 43; d. Bilbilis, Spain, 104.

Massinger, Philip.
b. near Wilton, Eng., 1584; d. on the Bankside, 1639-40.
--1411, 1817.

Mee, William.

"Meredith, Owen" [Lord Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton],
b. Herts, Eng, 1831; d. 1891.
--225, 540, 645, 866, 981, 1000, 1127, 1245, 1491, 1900, 2102.

Mickle, William Julius.
b. Dumfriesshire, Scot., 1734; d. 1788.

Middleton, Thomas.
d. 1626.
--16, 134, 1502.

Miller, "Joaquin" Cincinnatus Hiner.
b. Indiana, 1840; ....
--371, 477, 647, 1030, 1185, 1828.

Milnes, Richard Monckton [Lord Houghton].
b. Yorkshire, Eng., 1809; d. 1885.
--890, 2041.

Milton, John.
b. London, Eng., 1608; d. London, Eng., 1674.
--1, 4, 18, 68, 77, 78, 80, 90, 112, 117, 120, 157, 170,
186, 187, 207, 275, 284, 288, 300, 312, 336, 356, 360, 373,
381, 383, 387, 397, 416, 429, 441, 445, 456, 468, 492, 515,
518, 520, 526, 539, 551, 563, 576, 595, 597, 600, 607, 608,
610, 628, 631, 634, 652, 667, 696, 701, 711, 712, 735, 740,
770, 797, 802, 804, 809, 847, 877, 880, 892, 895, 896, 931,
935, 956, 982, 991, 1001, 1018, 1025, 1037, 1052, 1057, 1060,
1077, 1081, 1085, 1094, 1100, 1160, 1169, 1173, 1184, 1187,
1192, 1213, 1215, 1220, 1248, 1255, 1260, 1287, 1310, 1320,
1325, 1331, 1371, 1380, 1397, 1399, 1402, 1406, 1421, 1439,
1447, 1454, 1494, 1497, 1500, 1505, 1509, 1512, 1525, 1569,
1597, 1611, 1612, 1628, 1650, 1654, 1660, 1661, 1665, 1693,
1740, 1758, 1777, 1783, 1840,
1844, 1873, 1906, 1908, 1919, 1936, 1949, 1975, 1999, 2013,
2015, 2020, 2034, 2035, 2038, 2046, 2069, 2084, 2097, 2100,
2108, 2138.

Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley.
b. London, Eng., _circa_ 1690; d. London, Eng., 1762.

Montgomery, James.
b. Irvine, Scot., 1771; d. Sheffield, Eng., 1854.
--232, 1008, 1258, 1582.

Moore, Clement C.
b. New York, 1779; d. 1863.

Moore, Thomas.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1779, d. near Devizes, Eng., 1852.
--171, 221, 314, 436, 481, 547, 554, 655, 805, 812, 872,
1113, 1646, 1743, 1757, 1824, 1834, 1941, 2109.

More, Hannah.
b. Stapleton, Eng., 1745; d. Clifton, Eng., 1833.
--660, 859, 1638, 1955.

Morris, Charles.
b. 1739; d. 1832.

Morris, George P.
b. Philadelphia, Penn., 1802; d. New York City, 1864.

Nairne, Lady Caroline Oliphant.
b. Gask, Perthshire, Scot., 1766; d. Gask, 1845.

Noel, Thomas.

Norris, John.
b. Wiltshire, Eng., 1657; d. 1711.

O'Hara, Theodore.
b. 1820; d. 1867.

Otway, Thomas.
b. Tottington, Eng., 1651; d. London, Eng., 1685.

Parnell, Thomas.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1679; d. Chester, Eng., 1717-18.
--1125, 2057.

Payne, John Howard.
b. New York City, 1792; d. Tunis, Africa, 1852.

Peele, George.
b. Devonshire, Eng., 1552-58; d. 1598.

Percival, James Gates.
b. Berlin, Conn., 1795; d. Hazelgreen, Wis., 1856.
--727, 1049.

Percy, Bishop Thomas.
b. Bridgenorth, Eng., 1728; d. Drosnore, Eng., 1811.
--343, 2051.

Pierpont, John.
b. Litchfield, Conn., 1785; d. 1866.

"Pindar, Peter" [Dr. John Walcot].
b. Dodbrook, Eng., 1738; d. Somers' Town, Eng., 1819.

Pitt, William.
b. Hayes, near Bromley, Eng., 1759; d. 1806.

Poe, Edgar Allan.
b. Boston, Mass., 1809; d. Baltimore, Md., 1849.
--173, 1531.

Pollock, Robert.
b. Eaglesham, Scot., 1799; d. Shirley Common, Eng., 1827.
--957, 1721.

Pope, Alexander.
b. London, Eng., 1688; d. Twickenham, Eng., 1744.
--2, 8, 45, 64, 70, 73, 82, 83, 93, 108, 122,
123, 136, 162, 188, 219, 260, 262, 276, 285, 289, 294, 299, 308, 329,
358, 398, 402, 409, 411, 430, 432, 435, 440, 452, 464, 478, 507, 544,
589, 609, 621, 643, 663, 668, 671, 682, 683, 685, 731, 737, 745, 767,
811, 829, 831, 855, 869, 886, 897, 902, 905, 922, 926, 932, 943, 950,
1038, 1047, 1048, 1061, 1067, 1092, 1146, 1152, 1182, 1195,
1197, 1218, 1238, 1250, 1263, 1266, 1280, 1288, 1329, 1356,
1364, 1369, 1392, 1400, 1413, 1417, 1418, 1423, 1441, 1444,
1459, 1474, 1482, 1485, 1492, 1514, 1517, 1542, 1543, 1548,
1558, 1564, 1574, 1592, 1618, 1623, 1631, 1636, 1645, 1725,
1765, 1766, 1775, 1803, 1837, 1863, 1974, 1989, 1995, 1996,
2000, 2014, 2058, 2067, 2087, 2113, 2115, 2117, 2123, 2127.

Pope, Dr. Walter.
b. _circa_ 1630; d. 1714.

Porteus, Beilby.
b. York, Eng., 1731; d. 1808.

Praed, Winthrop Macworth.
b. London, Eng., 1802; d. London, Eng., 1839.
--137, 1132.

Preston, Margaret Junkin.
b. Lexington, Va., 1635; d. 1897.
--911, 1292, 1954.

Prior, Matthew.
b. near Wimborne-Minster, Eng., 1664; d. Wimpole, Eng., 1721.
--69, 623, 962, 990, 1126, 1859.

Procter, Bryan Waller ["Barry Cornwall"].
b. London, Eng., 1787; d. 1874.
--1244, 1606.

Rabelais, Francois.
b. Chinon, France, 1488-95; d. Paris, France, 1553.

Raleigh, Sir Walter.
b. Budleigh, Eng., 1552; d. London, Eng., 1618.
--1305, 1691.

Read, Thomas Buchanan.
b. Chester, Penn., 1822; d. New York City, 1872.

Rochester, Earl of [John Wilmot].
b. Ditchley, Eng., 1647; d. 1680.

Rogers, Samuel.
b. Stoke Newington. Eng., 1763; d. London, Eng., 1855.
--1172, 1175, 1240, 1546.

Roscommon, Earl of [Wentworth Dillon].
b. Ireland, 1633; d. London, Eng., 1684.

Rossetti, Christina Georgiana.
b. London, Eng., 1830; d. 1894.
--347, 726, 949, 1536, 1692.

Rossetti, Dante Gabriel.
b. London, Eng., 1828; d. London, Eng., 1882.
--1029, 1171.

Rowe, Nicholas.
b. Little Barford, Eng., 1673-74; d. London, Eng., 1718.
--1199, 2077.

Ruskin, John.
b. London, Eng., 1819; d. 1900.
--121, 1265, 1278, 1671.

Salis, J.G. von.
b. 1762; d. 1834.

Sargent, Epes.
b. Gloucester, Mass., 1812; d. 1881.

Savage, Richard.
b. London, Eng., 1698; d. 1743.

Saxe, John Godfrey.
b. Highgate, Vt., 1816; d. 1887.
--210, 861.

Schiller, Johann Christoph Friedrich von.
b. Marbach, Ger., 1759; d. Weimar, Ger., 1805.
--109, 497, 1007, 1273, 1477, 1629, 1712, 1915, 1927, 2083.

Scott, Sir Walter.
b. Edinburgh, Scot., 1771; d. Abbotsford, Scot., 1832.
--327, 509, 535, 702, 732, 826, 893, 1050,
1051, 1103, 1134, 1214, 1436, 1501, 1524, 1622, 1669, 1732,
1874, 2090.

Sedley, Charles.
b. Kent, Eng., 1639; d. 1701.

Shakespeare, William.
b. Stratford-on-Avon, Eng., 1564; d. Stratford-on-Avon, Eng., 1616.
--3, 5, 6, 12, 13, 14, 17, 21, 25, 26, 27, 29, 33, 37, 38, 41, 46,
47, 51, 52, 54, 55, 56, 66, 67, 72, 74, 75, 86, 87, 88, 89, 91, 94, 96,
97, 99, 101, 111, 113, 114, 118, 119, 126, 138, 139, 140, 145, 152,
154, 155, 156, 165, 167, 168, 182, 190, 195, 197, 200, 201, 203, 211,
214, 215, 217, 220, 223, 224, 228, 235, 237, 241, 243, 253, 254, 255,
257, 259, 261, 266, 271, 272, 273, 278, 279, 283, 286, 287, 293, 295,
297, 306, 316, 318, 332, 334, 350, 353, 355, 361, 362, 367, 370, 372,
374, 375, 376, 377, 380, 386, 389, 390, 392, 394, 396, 399, 400, 410,
414, 415, 417, 418, 422, 424, 425, 426, 437, 439, 444, 446, 447, 453,
454, 455, 457, 458, 459, 462, 471, 472, 475, 480, 482, 483, 488, 489,
490, 491, 508, 513, 521, 524, 528, 529, 542, 543, 545, 550, 557, 558,
560, 564, 565, 567, 568, 569, 573, 575, 577, 578, 579, 581, 587, 601,
603, 616, 617, 636, 638, 641, 644, 653, 657, 659, 665, 666, 673, 674,
678, 679, 684, 686, 689, 690, 691, 692, 705, 709, 718, 722, 724, 750,
753, 754, 755, 763, 764, 774, 777, 792, 794, 795, 798, 800, 803, 808,
816, 818, 821, 824, 825, 827, 830, 838, 839, 845, 846, 853, 854, 856,
870, 873, 876, 885, 891, 894, 909, 921, 923, 924, 930, 938, 939, 940,
941, 955, 961, 966, 973, 977, 983, 984, 985, 988, 999, 1002, 1004,
1009, 1010, 1013, 1015, 1019, 1020, 1021, 1023, 1026, 1027, 1033, 1034,
1043, 1056, 1062, 1065, 1068, 1071, 1072, 1076, 1082, 1084, 1098, 1099,
1104, 1108, 1112, 1118, 1119, 1139, 1140, 1142, 1143, 1144, 1151, 1153,
1157, 1158, 1164, 1165, 1170, 1176, 1180, 1183, 1191, 1194, 1196, 1198,
1200, 1202, 1203, 1204, 1205, 1207, 1212, 1219, 1225, 1233, 1235, 1242,
1247, 1254, 1259, 1269, 1270, 1272, 1274, 1279, 1281, 1283, 1285, 1286,
1289, 1290, 1291, 1301, 1308, 1309, 1317, 1318, 1326, 1327, 1328, 1332,
1333, 1338, 1341, 1342, 1357, 1359, 1361, 1368, 1370, 1378, 1386, 1388,
1389, 1396, 1398, 1408, 1409, 1415, 1422, 1426, 1430, 1443, 1448, 1451,
1456, 1458, 1463, 1468, 1469, 1470, 1476, 1484, 1486, 1488, 1489, 1490,
1499, 1521, 1527, 1528, 1532, 1533, 1544, 1552, 1555, 1565, 1566, 1567,
1572, 1578, 1579, 1581, 1586, 1587, 1590, 1594, 1595, 1598, 1605, 1614,
1615, 1619, 1626, 1630, 1635, 1641, 1643, 1644, 1649, 1653, 1656, 1662,
1664, 1674, 1681, 1684, 1685, 1689, 1690, 1696, 1698, 1700, 1701, 1706,
1707, 1708, 1714, 1720, 1722, 1726, 1727, 1738, 1744, 1745, 1746, 1754,
1755, 1762, 1768, 1769, 1778, 1782, 1789, 1790, 1797, 1798, 1801, 1802,
1804, 1805, 1808, 1809, 1812, 1816, 1820, 1829, 1835, 1838, 1841, 1843,
1845, 1848, 1850, 1854, 1855, 1857, 1866 ,1869, 1870, 1871, 1879, 1881,
1885, 1890, 1891, 1893, 1894, 1895, 1896, 1899, 1905, 1907, 1911, 1912,
1913, 1925, 1929, 1930, 1933, 1942, 1943, 1945, 1946, 1958, 1959, 1961,
1977, 1980, 1982, 1983, 1987, 1998, 2001, 2005, 2006, 2010, 2011, 2012,
2016, 2017, 2022, 2023, 2027, 2030,
2036, 2039, 2040, 2044, 2045, 2052, 2061, 2066, 2070, 2078, 2082, 2098,
2099, 2106, 2107, 2111, 2114, 2116, 2118, 2119, 2120, 2126, 2130, 2132,
2133, 2137.

Sheffield, John. [Duke of Buckinghamshire].
b. 1649; d. 1720.
--918, 2122.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe.
b. near Horsham, Eng., 1792, drowned in the Gulf of Spezia, Italy, 1822.
--442, 502, 538, 596, 633, 899, 1024, 1294, 1363, 1503,
1823, 1928, 1991, 2008.

Shenstone, William.
b. Leasowes, Eng., 1714; d. Leasowes, Eng. 1763.
--987, 1736.

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley Butler.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1751; d. London. Eng., 1816.

Shirley, James.
b. London, Eng, 1594; d. London, Eng., 1666.

Sidney, Sir Philip.
b. Penshurst, Eng., 1554; d. Arnheim, Holland, 1586.

Sigourney, Lydia Huntley.
b. Norwich, Conn., 1791; d. Hartford, Conn., 1863.

Smith, Alexander.
b. Kilmarnock, Scot., 1830; d. Wardie, Scot., 1867.
--572, 1163, 1429.

Smith, James.
b. London, Eng., 1775; d. London, Eng., 1839.

Smith, Samuel Francis.
b. Boston, Mass., 1808; d. 1895.

Smollett, Tobias George.
b. near Renton, Eng., 1721; d. Leghorn, Italy, 1771.

Southey, Robert.
b. Bristol, Eng., 1774; d. Cumberland, Eng., 1843.
--147, 974, 2002.

Spenser, Edmund.
b. London, Eng., 1553; d. London, Eng., 1599.
--125, 302, 421, 510, 555, 998, 1011, 1120, 1181, 1224,
1264, 1540, 1719, 1882.

Sprague, Charles.
b. Boston, Mass., 1791; d. Boston, Mass., 1875.

Stedman, Edmund Clarence.
b. Hartford, Conn., 1833; ....
--296, 625, 1639.

Stevens, George Alexander.
b. London, Eng., 1720; d. 1784.

Stevenson, Robert Louis Balfour.
b. Edinburgh, Scot., 1850; d. Island of Samoa, 1894.
--106, 183, 258, 915, 1257, 1319, 2065.

Stoddard, Richard Henry.
b. Hingham, Mass, 1825; d. 1903.
--84, 128, 310, 741, 1101, 1539.

Story, Joseph.
b. Marblehead, Mass., 1779; d. Cambridge, Mass., 1845.

Suckling, Sir John.
b. Whitton, Eng., 1608-9; d. Paris, France, 1641-2.
--467, 640, 1122.

Swift, Jonathan.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1667; d. Dublin, Ireland, 1745.
--719, 721, 903, 1005.

Swinburne, Algernon Charles.
b. Holmwood, Eng., 1837; ....

Taylor, Bayard.
b. Kennett Sq., Penn., 1825; d. Berlin, Ger., 1878.
--476, 1044, 1088, 1813, 1888, 2068.

Taylor, Sir Henry.
b. Durham, Eng., 1800; d. 1886.

Taylor, Jane.
b. London, Eng., 1783; d. Ongar, Essexshire, 1824.

Tennyson, Alfred.
b. Somersby, Eng., 1810; d. 1892.
--151, 166, 172, 246, 292, 319, 325, 333, 338, 584, 606, 626, 630, 648,
661, 779, 820, 881, 900, 927, 953, 1032, 1040, 1093, 1117, 1128,
1293, 1374, 1387, 1461, 1462, 1607, 1699, 1711, 1771, 1786,
1826, 1876, 1902, 2131.

Thaxter, Celia Leighton.
b. Portsmouth, N.H., 1835; d. 1894.

Thomas, Frederick William.
b. Providence, R.I., 1811; d. 1866.

Thomson, James.
b. Ednam, Scot., 1700; d. Kew, Eng., 1748.
--36, 339, 522, 622, 693, 752, 913, 951, 959, 1206, 1343,
1479, 1480, 1545, 1780, 1785, 1787, 1827, 1839, 1883, 1971, 2062.

Tickell, Thomas.
b. near Carlisle, Eng., 1686; d. Bath, Eng., 1740.

Tobin, John.
b. Salisbury, Eng., 1770; d. 1804.

Toplady, Augustus Montague.
b. Surrey, Eng., 1640; d. 1778.

Trumbull, John.
b. Lebanon, Conn., 1750; d. New York City, 1831.

Tupper, Martin Farquhar.
b. London, Eng., 1810; d. 1889.
--1513, 1922.

Tusser, Thomas.
b. Rivenhall, Eng., 1515-23; d. London, Eng., 1580.

Usteri, Johann Martin.
b. Zurich, Switzerland, 1763; d. 1827.

Vaughan, Henry.
b. Brecknockshire, Wales, 1621; d. 1695.
--706, 1148, 1464, 1952.

Wade, J.A.
b. 1800; d. 1875.

Waller, Edmund.
b. Coleshill, Eng., 1605; d. Beaconsfield, Eng., 1687.
--63, 81, 230, 852, 1657.

Walton, Izaak.
b. Stafford, Eng., 1593; d. 1683.

Warton, Thomas.
b. Basingstoke, Eng., 1728; d. 1790.

Watts, Isaac.
b. South Hampton, Eng., 1674; d. Theobalds, Eng., 1748.
--672, 882, 1223, 1559, 1570, 1737, 1972, 2021.

Webster, John.
b. _circa_ 1570; d. 1638.
--1066, 1795.

White, Henry Kirke.
b. Nottingham, Eng., 1785; d. Cambridge, Eng., 1806.
--268, 401.

Whitman, Walt.
b. Long Island, N.Y., 1819; d. 1892.

Whittier, John Greenleaf.
b. Haverhill, Mass., 1807; d. 1892.
--532, 637, 760, 772, 1149, 1177, 1252, 1355, 1376, 1966.

Willis, Nathaniel Parker.
b. Portland, Me., 1807; d. Idlewild, N.Y., 1867.
--1135, 2048.

Winter, William.
b. Gloucester, Mass., 1836; ....

Wither, George.
b. Brentworth, Eng., 1588; d. London, Eng., 1667.
--270, 2076.

Wolfe, Charles.
b. Dublin, Ireland, 1791; d. Cove of Cork, 1823.

Woodworth, Samuel.
b. Scituate, Mass., 1785; d. New York City, 1842.

Wordsworth, William.
b. Cockermouth, Eng., 1770; d. Rydal Mount, Eng., 1850.
--34, 61, 163, 174, 178, 206, 256, 274, 301, 309, 473, 487, 523, 527,
571, 593, 662, 743, 757, 769, 806, 822, 834, 917, 937, 947, 958, 968,
970, 1022, 1042, 1096, 1186, 1324, 1353, 1366, 1381, 1432, 1446,
1453, 1520, 1526, 1530, 1627, 1632, 1634, 1666, 1753, 1767,
1774, 1781, 1784, 1807, 1815, 1875, 1953, 2007, 2124.

Wotton, Sir Henry.
b. Boughton Malherbe, Eng., 1568; d. Eaton, Eng., 1639.
--1116, 1715.

Young, Edward.
b. Upham, Eng., 1684; d. Welwyn, Eng., 1765.
--48, 57, 115, 179, 184, 363, 404, 434, 494, 525, 561, 980, 1070,
1385, 1410, 1455, 1465, 1471, 1602, 1729, 1763, 1810, 1860,
1868, 1918, 1956, 2071, 2079.


The references designate the _numbers_ of the Quotations.

Abbots, purple as their wines, 2.

Abdiel, so spake the seraph, 4.

Absence conquers love, 10.
  of occupation is not rest, 960.
  whole years in, to deplore, 8.

Abstinence, the defensive virtue, 11.

Abyss, beyond is all, 628.

Accident, by many a happy, 16.
  the unthought-on, 13.

Accidents by flood and field, 14.
  our wanton, take root, 15.

Account, sent to my, 17.

Accounts, draw the, of evil, 388.

Acquaintance, should auld, be forgot, 20.

Acting of a dreadful thing, 437.

Action, of every noble, the intent, 22.
  pleasure and, make the hours seem short, 21.

Actions of the just, 23.

Acts, our, our angels are, 1655.

Adam dolve and Eve span, 793.
  the goodliest man, 631.
  whipped the offending, 389.

Adieu, my native shore, 31.
  she cried, 32.

Admiration, season your, for a while, 33.

Adorning with so much art, 479.

Adversary, a stony, 446.

Adversite, fortunes sharpe, 40.

Adversity, bruised with, 38.
  sweet are the uses of, 37.

Advice, danger to give, to kings, 42.
  't was good, 44
  worst men often give the best, 43.

Affectation, with a sickly mien, 45.

Affection is a coal that must be cooled, 47.

Affliction is enamored of thy parts. 255.
  is the good man's shining scene, 48.
  tries our virtue, 49.

Affliction's sons are brothers in distress, 242.

Affronts, young men soon give, 50.

Age cannot wither her, 55.
  I must not tell my, 58.
  rock the cradle of, 432.
  when, is in, wit is out, 51.

Agent, trust no, 279.

Ages, alike all, 466.

Aim, failed in the high, 65.

Air, the, a chartered libertine, 66.

Alacrity in sinking, 67.

Ale, drink of Adam's, 69.
  the spicy nut-brown, 68.

Alexandrine, a needless, 70.

Alone on a wide sea, 71.

Amazement on thy mother sits, 72.

Amber, to observe the forms in, 73.

Ambition finds such joy, 78.
  fling away, 74.
  has but one reward, 76.
  to reign is worth, 77.
  which o'erleaps itself, 75.

America, half brother of the world, 79.

Anarch, thy hand, great, 478.

Anarchy, hold eternal, 80.

Ancient of days, 116.

Angels come and go, 84.
  lackey her, 300.
  where, fear to tread, 83.

Angels' visits, short and far between, 85.

Anger never made good guard, 87.

Anger's my meat, 86.

Angling, the pleasantest, 88.
  wagered on your, 89.

Anna, here thou, great, 411.

Antiquity, ways of hoar, 92.

Apathy, in lazy, 93.

Apollo's laurel bough, 213.

Apostles would have done, 176.

Apostolic blows and knocks, 574.

Apparel, fashion wears out more, 678.
  oft proclaims the man, 94.

Apparition, a lovely, 527.

Apparitions, like, seen and gone, 95.

Appearances to save, his only care, 98.

Appetite, good digestion wait on, 99.
  grown by what it fed on, 46.
  stands cook, 100.

Applaud to the very echo, 101.

Applause, attentive to his own, 276.
  of listening senates, 103.
  oh, popular, 102.

Apples, since Eve ate, 553.
  small choice in rotten, 316.

April cold with dropping rain, 105.

Aprile has fairly come, 106.

Aprille, with his shoures sote, 104.

Arabs, fold their tents like the, 1889.

Arch, look on its broken, 1716.

Arguing, in, the parson owned his skill, 107.

Argument, height of this great, 1399.

Arms on armor clashing, 381.

Arrow, shot mine, o'er the house, 241.
  swifter than, 1845.

Art is the child of Nature, 110.
  Nature is but, 289.
  O man, is thine alone, 109.

Artist, in framing an, 111.

Aspect, with grave, he rose, 112.

Aspiration lifts him from the earth, 113.

Assurance double sure, I'll make, 114.

Asters, purple, nod, 130.

Atheist, by night an, half believes a God, 115.

Athena, august, 116.

Athens, the eye of Greece, 117

Attachment to the well-known place, 914.

Attempt and not the deed, 118.

Auburn, sweet, 2003.

August round her precious gifts is flinging, 121.

Aurora, fair daughter of the dawn, 122.

Author, no, ever spared a brother, 124.

Authority, drest in a little brief, 126.

Authors steal their works, 123.

Autumn in the misty morn, 131.
  succeeds, a sober, tepid age, 1610.
  who may paint thee, 128.
  wins you best, 129.

Avarice, a good old-gentlemanly vice, 133.
  creeping on, 409.
  old men sicken of, 134.

Awkward, embarrassed, stiff, 135.

Bacchus with pink eyne, 2006.

Backward, turn backward, 313.

Balances, Jove lifts the golden, 136.

Ball, I saw her at a county, 137.

Banishment, bitter bread of, 138.

Banner with the strange device, 141.

Banners, all thy, wave, 142.
  hang out our, 140.

Bard, blind, on Chian strand, 143.

Bark, fatal and perfidious, 456.

Battle line, our far-flung, 744.
  rages loud and long, 149.
  who in life's, 194.

Beams athwart the sea, 151.

Bear, rugged Russian, 414.

Beard, his tawny, 153.
  was as white as snow, 152.

Beast, that wants discourse of reason, 154.

Beauty, a thing of, is a joy, 159.
  cost her nothing, 658.
  draws us with a single hair, 162.
  dwells in deep retreats, 163
  is a vain and doubtful good, 156.
  is its own excuse, 161.
  needs not the flourish of praise, 155.
  stands in the admiration, 157.

Bed, in, we laugh, 164.
  the, was made, 258.

Bees, murmuring of innumerable, 166.

Beggars, mounted, 167.
  when, die, 168.

Beggary, impotent and snail-paced, 524.

Behavior, upon his good, 169.

Belial, sons of, 170.

Bell, merry as a marriage, 651.
  the Sabbath, 1546.

Bells, mellow wedding, 173.
  ring out, wild, 172.
  those evening, 171.

Bethlehem, hail to the king of, 321.

Birds in their little nests, 672.

Birth is but a sleep, 178.

Birthday, a day that rose, 180.

Bivouac of the dead, 181.

Blasphemy in the soldier, 182.

Blessedness, dies in single, 283.

Blessings brighten as they take their flight, 184.
  wait on virtuous deeds, 185.

Blind among enemies, 187.

Bliss which centres in the mind, 189.

Blood, a drop of manly, 191.
  flesh and, so cheap, 229.
  is a juice of special kind, 192.
  when the, burns, 190.

Boat, swiftly glides the bonnie, 198.

Body, upon my burned, 598.

Bond, I'll have my, 200.

Bones, come to lay his, among ye, 56.
  cursed be he that moves my, 201.
  flesh hacked from, 709.
  rattle his, over the stones 202.
  thy, are marrowless, 795.

Book, a, O rare one, 203.

Books are a world, 206.
  cannot always please, 205.
  deep versed in, 207.
  in the running brooks, 37.
  many, are wearisome, 1439.
  some, are lies, 208.
  the best companions, 204.

Bore, sound that ushers in a, 210.

Bores and bored, the, 209.

Borrower, neither a, nor a lender be, 211.

Borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry, 211.

Boston, solid men of, 212.

Bound, there 's nothing but hath his, 214.

Bounty, large was his, 216.
  no winter in 't, 215.

Bourn no traveller returns, 777.

Bowers, lodged in thy living, 1952.

Boys, scrambling, outfacing, fashion-monging, 223.

Braes, we twa hae run about the, 222.

Brains, steal away their, 587.
  when the, were out, 224.

Branch, cut is the, 213.

Brave deserves the fair, 226.
  how sleep the, 227.
  more, to live, 225.
  on, ye, 359.

Bravest are the tenderest, 476.

Breach, once more unto the, 228

Bread, crammed with distressful, 1490.
  should be so dear, 229.

Breast, calm the troubled, 231.

Breath, good man yields his, 232.

Breeches are so queer, 233.

Breezes of the South, 234.

Brevity is very good, 236.
  the soul of wit, 235.

Bride in her bloom, 238.

Bridge of sighs, 1993.
  that arched the flood, 239.

Brook, a, comes stealing, 240.

Brookside, I wandered by the, 2041.

Brother, be not over-exquisite, 90.

Bubbles, the earth hath, 243.

Bucket, old oaken, 244.

Bud is on the bough, 245.

Bugle, blow, 246.

Bully, like a tall, 358.

Buttercups, the children's dower, 251.

Butterfly, a mere court, 419.
  I'd be a, 218.

Cæsar, dead and turned to clay, 253.
  the word of, 253.

Calamity, thou art wedded to, 255.

Caledonia, stern and wild, 1052.

Calendar, accursed in the, 454.

Caliban, sweet eyes at, 407.

Calumny will sear Virtue, 257.

Camel to thread a needle's eye, 550.

Candle, did not see the, 367.
  hold their farthing, 363.
  throws his beams, 259.

Cannons spit forth their indignation, 261.

Canteen, we have drunk from the same, 756.

Captain, boisterous, of the sea, 265.
  my, our fearful trip is done, 264.

Caravanserai, God's green, 258.

Care keeps his watch, 266.
  pursues its victim, 268.
  that is entered once, 267.
  to our coffin adds a nail, 269.
  will kill a cat, 270.

Cat, a harmless, necessary, 272.
  care will kill a, 270.
  will mew, 273.

Catalogue, go for men in the, 575.

Cataract haunted me, 274.

Caterpillars of the Commonwealth, 417.

Cato, give his senate laws, 276.

Cattle, call the, home, 277.

Cause, little shall I grace my, 278.

Caverns measureless to man, 282.

Censure from a foe, 285.
  take each man's, 41.

Ceremony was but devised, 286.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away, 315.

Chamber, come to the bridal, 493.

Chance, all, direction, 289.
  dark idolater of, 1584.
  grasps the skirts of, 333.
  power men call, 288.

Change, fear of, perplexes monarchs, 607.
  itself can give no more, 291.
  ringing grooves of, 292.

Chaos, black, comes again, 293.
  eldest night and, 80.
  of thought and passion, 294.

Character in thy life, 295.

Charity, alas for the rarity of, 298.
  fulfils the law, 297.

Charm, the, by sages often told, 401.

Charms strike the sight, 299.

Chastity, saintly, 300.

Chatterton, the marvellous boy, 301.

Chaucer, well of English, 302.

Cheek, fed on her damask, 374.
  o'er her warm, 193.

Cherubims, still quiring to the, 1708.

Chickens, count their, 305.

Child, a thankless, 985.
  is father of the man, 309.

Childhood, the scenes of my, 1453.

Children are the keys of Paradise, 310.
  gathering pebbles, 312.
  if the, were no more, 307.

Chime, faintly as tolls the evening, 314.

Chivalry, charge with all thy, 142.

Choice, follow thou thy, 317.
  goes by forever, 514.

Choler, room to your rash, 318.

Christ, ring in the, 172
  the one great word, 322.
  was born across the sea, 320.
  went agin war, 323.

Christians have burnt each other, 176.

Christmas comes but once a year, 324.
  hearth, holly round the, 325.
  keep our, merry, 327.
  tide, bright be thy, 326.
  't was the night before, 328.

Church, what is a, 330.
  who builds a, 329.

Churchyards, when, yawn, 894.

Circle of the golden year, 151.

Citadel, a towered, 334.

Citizens, before man made us, 335.

City, Cain, the first, made, 786.
  one who, in, pent, 336.

Clay, blind his soul with, 338.

Cleopatra, since, died, 145.

Cliff, as some tall, 341.

Clime, cold in, are cold in blood, 352.

Climes beyond the western main, 342.

Cloake, take thine old, 343.

Clock worn out, 844.

Cloud that's dragonish, 1689.

Clouds are angels' robes, 348.
  heavy with storms, 346.
  hooded, like friars, 150.
  on the western side, 347.
  trailing, of glory, 743.

Clown, thou art mated with a, 953.

Coach, go call a, 349.

Cock, the early village, 350.

Coincidence, a strange, 351.

Cold, 't is bitter, 353.

Coliseum, while stands the, 354.

Colossus, like a, 355.

Columbia, to glory arise, 357.

Column, where London's, 358.

Combat, the, deepens, 359.

Comfort comes too late, 361.

Commandments, set my ten, 362.

Commentators each dark passage shun, 363.

Communion with the skies, 365.

Companions, I have had, 311.

Compass, I mind my, 369.

Complexion, mislike me not for my, 372.

Compulsion, sweet, in music, 373.

Concealment, like a worm, 374.

Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works, 375.
  lies in his hamstring, 27.
  what are they in their, 249.

Conclusion, a foregone, 376.

Condition is not the thing, 188.

Conflict, dire was the noise of, 381.
  more fierce the, grew, 147.
  through the heat of, 256.

Confusion on thy banners wait, 382.
  worse confounded, 383.

Conquerors that war against your own affections, 1626.

Conquest's crimson wing, 385.

Conscience does make cowards, 386.
  into what abyss, 387.
  of the king, 1341.
  the, rarely gnaws, 388.

Conscious stone to beauty grew, 247.

Consideration like an angel came, 389.

Consistency wuz a part of his plan, 391.

Consolation, grief is crowned with, 390.

Conspiracies no sooner should be formed, 393.

Constancy lives in realms above, 395.

Consummation devoutly to be wished, 396.

Consumption's ghastly form, 493.

Contemplation and valor formed, 397.

Contempt, contemptible to shun, 398.

Content can soothe, 401.
  commends me to mine own, 400.

Contest, great, follows, 403.

Convents bosomed deep in vines, 2.

Conversation, in, boldness bears sway, 199.
  skill of, lies in, 404.

Copse, near yonder, 340.

Corruption is a tree, 408.
  mining all within, 528.
  shall deluge all, 409.

Counsel, bosom up my, 410.

Countenance will change to virtue, 1357.

Country, God made the, 1937.
  left our, for our country's good, 413.
  my, 'tis of thee, 1315.
  the undiscovered, 217.

Court melted into one whisper, 1580.

Courtesy, that fine sense which men call, 420.

Courtier, not a, hath a heart, 418.

Coward, call him a slanderous, 521.
  never on himself relies, 428.

Cowards, common men are, 1513.
  conscience does make, 386.
  die many times, 426.

Cowslips wan, 429.

Coxcombs, some made, 430.
  vanquish Berkeley, 431.

Crack of doom, 577.

Cradle of reposing age, 432.

Cradles rock us nearer to the tomb, 179.

Creation sleeps, 434.

Creatures,  millions of spiritual, 1783.

Credit, blest paper, 435.

Cricket, thou winter, 12.

Critical, I am nothing if not, 439.

Critics I saw, that names deface, 440.

Crocus, the yellow, 321.
Cromwell, damned to everlasting fame, 671.
  our chief of men, 441.

Cross, the, leads generations on, 442.

Crown, a fruitless, 444.
  I give away my, 3.
  likeness of a kingly, 445.

Crutch, shoulders his, 707.

Cupid is a casuist, 448.
  is painted blind, 447.

Cure for life's ills, 449.

Curfew tolls the knell, 450.

Curiosity, that low vice, 451.

Curls, shakes his ambrosial, 452.

Current, take the, when it serves, 453.

Curs, like to village, bark, 1200.

Curses, mouth-honor, breath, 455.

Custom calls me to it, 458.
  that monster, 459.

Cut, unkindest, of all, 1982.

Cygnet to this pale faint swan, 754.

Daffadills, we weep to see, 461.

Dagger, is this a, 462.
  of the mind, 462.

Daisy's cheek is tipped, 463.

Dame, he that would win his, 423.

Dames of ancient days, 466.

Damn with faint praise, 1369.

Damnation, deal, round the land, 464.

Damned use that word in hell, 139.

Damsel, a, lay deploring, 1608.
  with a dulcimer, 465.

Dance, on with the, 469.
  the Pyrrhic, 470.

Danger, out of this nettle, 472.
  shape of, 473.

Dante of the dread Inferno, 474.

Dare do all that may become a man, 475.

Darkness, all day the, 532.
  bends down like a mother, 477.
  the instruments of, 1885.
  universal, buries all, 478.
  visible, no light but, 895.

Darling of the April rain, 2009.

Daughter of the voice of God, 593.
  still harping on my, 480.

Day, at the close of the, 485.
  begins to break, 483.
  each, critique on the last, 260.
  is done, 632.
  it is a sultry, 1819.
  the kingly, 1828.

Days are in the yellow leaf, 486.
  heavenly, that cannot  die, 487.

Days, nor mourn the unalterable, 791.
  our, begin with trouble, 500.
  thirty, hath September, 1211.

Death, a necessary end, 488.
  a strange, delicious amazement, 498.
  all seasons for thine own, 496.
  came with friendly care, 979.
  close folio wing, 492.
  cometh soon or late, 495.
  cruel, is always near, 500.
  dread of something after, 777.
  his, calcined thee to dust, 602.
  how wonderful is, 502.
  in itself is nothing, 504.
  is beautiful, 503.
  lies on her, 490.
  loves a shining mark, 494.
  lurks in every flower, 501.
  only kind to mortals, 497.
  rides on every passing breeze, 501.
  there is no, 499.
  thou art sweet, 778.
  though, be poor, 491.
  't is, to me to be at enmity, 617.

Death's untimely frost, 773.
  voice sounds like a prophet's, 904.

Debts, call our old, in, 388.

Decay's effacing fingers, 506.

Deceit should steal such gentle shapes, 508.

December, came the chill, 510.

Decency, want of, 512.

Deed, so shines a good, 259.

Deeds, easy to beget great, 516.
  excused his devilish, 515.

Deep where Holland lies, 517.

Defence, at one gate, to make, 520.

Delay leads impotent beggary, 524.

Deliberation, deep on his front
engraven, 526.

Denmark, something is rotten in, 529.

Deputy, this outward-sainted, 955.

Desert, where no life is found, 533.

Desire, bloom of young, 193.
  liveth not in fierce, 535.

Despair defies even despotism, 537.
  then black, 538.

Despotism, despair defies even, 537.

Destiny, shady leaves of, 541.

Detractions, they that hear their, 543.

Devil, abashed the, stood, 1.
  the, builds a chapel, 384.
  can cite scripture, 1422.
  has the largest congregation, 384.
  laughing, in his sneer, 878.
  sends cooks, 406.
  temptation of the, 1886.
  was sick, the. 546.

Dew, resolve itself into a, 722.

Dial, true as the, to the sun, 549.

Die, we must all, 1231.

Dies, nothing, but something mourns, 1232.

Digestion, good, wait on appetite, 99.

Digression, there began a lang, 552.

Dinner, much depends on, 553.

Discontent, the winter of our, 2061.

Discord, brayed horrible, 381.
  effects from civil, 556.
  oft in music, 555.

Discourse, with such large, 557.

Discretion, not to outsport, 558.
  the best part of valor, 559.

Diseases, desperate grown, 560.

Disguise, 't is manly to disdain, 561.

Disobedience, of man's first, 563.

Disposition, a very melancholy, 565.

Dispute, could we forbear, 63.

Distance lends enchantment, 570.

Diver did hang a salt-fish, 89.

Divinity that shapes our ends, 573.

Doctor Fell, I do not love thee, 562.

Dog, I'd rather be a, 237.
  will have his day, 273.

Dogs of war, let slip the, 1499.

Dolphins play, pleased to see, 369.

Dome, hand that rounded Peter's, 247.

Dominion over palm and pine, 744.

Done, if it were, when 't is, 25.

Doubt, modest, is called, 578.

Doubts, our, are traitors, 579.

Doves, the moan of, 166.

Drama's laws, the, 580.

Dream, a, so sweet, 554.
  fickle as a changeful, 702.

Dreams are a world, 206.
  are children of an idle brain, 581.
  have breath and tears, 582.
  glimpses of forgotten, 584.
  some, are nothing but dreams, 583.
  such stuff as, are made on, 1726.

Dress, be plain in, 585.
  drains our cellar dry, 586.
  we sacrifice to, 586.

Drink, give him strong, 588.

Drunkard, some frolic, 590.

Dulcimer, damsel with a, 465.

Dunce, a, at home, 591.

Dungeon, dweller in yon, 592.

Duty, if that name thou love, 593.                                    I

Eagle, stretched upon the plain, 594.

Eagle's fate and mine are one, 1657.

Ear, give every man thine, 41.
  more is meant than meets the, 595.

Earth doth like a snake renew, 596.
  felt the wound, 597.
  hath bubbles, 243.
  is a thief, 1521.
  lie lightly, gentle, 598.
  with her thousand voices, 599.

Ease, I'll take mine, 741.
  would recant vows, 600.

East, opening chambers of the, 1827.

Echo, applaud thee to the very, 101.
  fading from the chime, 1252.
  waits with art, 605.

Echoes roll from soul to soul, 606.
  set the wild, flying, 246.

Eclipse, built in the, 456.
  total, without all hope of day, 186.

Eden, through, took their solitary way, 608.

Education forms the common mind, 609.

Eloquence, mother of arts and, 117.

Elves, the criticising, 698.

Embers, glowing, through the room, 802.

Embroidery, sad, wears, 429.

Emerson first, there comes, 611.

Enchantment, distance lends, 570.

Enemy in their mouths, 587.

England, model to thy inward greatness, 616.

Ensign, tear her tattered, 618.

Enthusiasm, a moral inebriety, 619.

Envy is a kind of praise, 610.
  will pursue merit, 621.
  withers at joy, 622.

Err, to, is human, 745.

Error and mistake are infinite, 405.
  shall, father truth, 626.
  wounded, writhes with pain, 627.

Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful thought, 629.

Europe, better fifty years of, 630.

Eve, since, ate apples, 553.

Events, coming, cast their shadows before, 1390.

Evil, be thou my good, 634.
  springs up, 635.
  that men do lives, 636.

Exercise, the sad mechanic, 1293.

Expectation makes a blessing dear, 640.

Experience is by industry achieved, 641.
  long, made him sage, 642.

Extremes in nature equal good produce, 643.

Eye, let every, negotiate for itself, 279.
  of childhood fears a painted devil, 545.
  the black, the blue, 649.

Eyes are homes of silent prayer, 648.
  bright, rain influence, 982.
  half defiant, 646.
  soft, looked love, 651.
  soul-deep, 647.
  sweetest, were ever seen, 650.
  true, too pure, 645.
  were made for seeing, 161.
  with a wondrous charm, 646.

Fabric, like an exhalation, 652.
  like the baseless, 569.

Face, can't I another's, commend, 655.
  false, must hide, 568.
  he hides a shining, 656.
  light upon her, 654.
  that launched a thousand ships, 1670.
  this man, whose homely, 1101.

Face, the old familiar, 311.

Fair, exceeding, she was not, 658.
  is foul, and foul is, 657.

Fairy land, this is the, 659.

Faith, amaranthine flower of, 662.
  for modes of, 663.
  has centre everywhere, 661.
  if, produce no works, 660.
  saddest thing, to lose, 571.

Faithless, among the, faithful, 4.

Fall, he that is down needs fear no, 664.

False as air, 665.

Falsehood, strife of Truth with, 514.

Fame, damned to everlasting, 671.
  is double-mouthed, 667.
  morning when I longed for, 669.

Fame, that all hunt after, 666.
  what's, 668.

Fame's eternall beadroll, 302.
  eternal camping-ground, 181.
  proud temple shines afar, 670.

Families of yesterday, 1300.

Famine is in thy cheeks, 673.

Fancy, she's all my, painted her, 675.
  where is, bred, 674.

Farewell, a word that must be, 677.
  through keen delights, 676.
  to thee, Araby's daughter, 481.

Farmers, the embattled, stood, 239.

Fashion wears out more apparel, 678.

Fate, binding Nature fast in, 682.
  has wove the thread of life, 683.
  take a bond of, 114.
  when, summons, monarchs obey, 680.

Fates, what, impose, 679.

Father of all, in every age, 685.
  wise, knows his own child, 684.

Fathers, God of our, 744.

Fault, condemn the, 686.

Faults, chide him for, 306.
  in vain, my, ye quote, 688.

Fear, desponding, 693.
  is most accursed, 692.
  what should be the, 691.

Feasts, blest be those, 695.

February, slant sun of, 697.

Feelings, some, are to mortals given, 893.

Feet beneath her petticoat, 467.
  her, like snails, 699.

Fellow, touchy, testy, pleasant, 700.

Female of sex it seems, 701.

Fiction, by fairy, drest, 704.
  rises to the eye, 703.

Fields, rejoice ye, 121.

Fiend, a frightful, 708.

Fight another day, 710.

Fire, from beds of raging, 711.

Firmament, now glowed the, 712.
  spacious, on high, 713.

Fish, I can, and study too, 1457.

Flag of the free heart's hope, 714.
  the meteor, of England, 715.

Flame, freedom's holy, 716.
  that lit the battle's wreck, 717.

Flatter, I cannot, 718.

Flattery, can, soothe the ear of death, 720.
  the food of fools, 719.

Flea has smaller fleas, 721.

Flesh, this too solid, 722.

Flight, no thought of, 416.

Flood, leap into this angry, 724.
  taken at the, 1912.

Flowers preach to us, 726.
  that skirt the frost, 728.
  the gentle race of, 725.
  they talk in, 727.
  wither at the north-wind's breath, 496.

Fly, oh could I, 366.

Foe, the erect, the manly, 729.

Folks, unhappy, on shore now, 1680.

Folly, if, grow romantic, 731.
  lovely woman stoops to, 733.

Fools are my theme, 734.
  ever since the Conquest, 736.
  our scorn may raise, 620.
  Paradise of, 735.
  rush in where angels fear, 737.
  to talking ever prone, 730.

Footprints on the sands of time, 738.

Fop, some fiery, 590.

Fops, positive, persisting, 260.

Force, who overcomes by, 740.

Forest primeval, this is the, 742.

Forget, lest we, 744.

Forgetfulness, not in entire, 743.

Forgive, good to, 747.
  those who, most, 746.

Forgiveness to the injured does belong, 1299.

Form of life and light, 748.

Forsaken, when he is, 1282.

Fortitude is seen in great exploits, 749.

Fortune, forever, wilt thou prove, 752.
  is female, 751.

Fortune keeps an upward course, 2001.
  stings and arrows of, 1959.
  will, never come, 750.

Fortune's power, I am not now in, 39.

Frailty, thy name is Woman, 753.

France, 't is better using, 755.

Freedom from her mountain-height, 761.
  my angel, his name is, 759.
  sternly said, 760.
  thou art not a girl, 758.

Freedom's battle, once begun, 148.

Freeman whom the truth makes free, 1965.

Freemen, corrupted, the worst of slaves, 1724.

Friend, of every friendless name the, 768.
  oh, be my, 765.
  save me from the candid, 729.
  to thy, be true, 706.

Friends in youth, 395.
  of humblest, scorn not one, 769.
  remembering my good, 763.
  thou hast, and their adoption tried, 764.
  two, two bodies, 767.

Friendships of the world, 766.

Front, his fair large, 770.

Frost and light, work of, 772.
  fell death's untimely, 773.
  the panes are hung with, 771.

Fruit, the ripest, first falls, 774.

Funeral baked meats, 1907.

Furrows, we see time's, 57.

Fury like a woman scorned, 775.
  of a patient man, 776.

Future, trust no, 780.

Gage, there I throw my, 287.

Gain, play not for, 784.
  unvexed with cares of, 781.

Gait, I ken the manner of his, 113.

Gale, so sinks the, 782.
  thorn that scents the evening, 783.

Garden, God the first, made, 786.
    where flowers were heaped, 785.

Garden, where the, smiled, 340.

Garret, born in the, 787.

Garrick, here lies David, 788.

Garth did not write his own Dispensary, 123.

Gem of purest ray serene, 789.

Genius commands thee, 357.
  goes and Folly stays, 791.
  must be born, 790.

Gentleman, who was then the, 793.

Gentlemen, that neither envy the great, 792.

Gentleness shall force, 794.

Ghost, like an ill-used, 85.
  what gentle, 548.

Ghosts and forms of fright, 796.

Gifts are locked up in my heart, 798.
  free of, that cost them nothing, 799.

Girdle round the earth, 800.

Girls blush, sometimes, 196.

Gloamin, late in a, 801.

Gloom, teach light to counterfeit a, 802.

Glory, awake to, 807.
  excess of, obscured, 804.
  from defect arise, 519.
  gilds the sacred page, 175.
  go where, waits thee, 805.
  greater, dim the less, 367.
  guards with solemn round, 181.
  is like a circle in water, 803.
  or the grave, 859.
  pursue, and generous shame, 716.

Glow-worm shows the matin, 808.

Gluttony, swinish, ne'er looks to heaven, 809.

Gnat, who's sorry for a, 196.

God, all but, is changing, 290.
  alone was seen in heaven, 813.
  an atheist half believes a, 115.
  conscious water saw its, 814.
  erects a house of prayer, 384.
  from thee, great, we spring, 815.
  is the perfect poet, 1351.
  made the country, 412.
  of our fathers, 744.

God, only, may be had for the asking, 810.
  the life and light, 812.

Goddess fair and free, 1192.
  she moves a, 1417.

Gods arrive when half-gods go, 817.
  grow angry with your patience, 1016.
  the, detest my baseness, 145.
  the, are just, 816.

God's love seemed lost, 531.

Going, the order of your, 824.

Gold, all that glisters is not, 97.
  can love be bought with, 2037.
  crying is a cry for, 820.
  cursed lust of, 819.
  narrowing lust of, 172.
  poison to men's souls, 818.
  the lust of, 132.
  to gild refined, 638.

Golden Rod, autumn blaze of, 130.

Good he scorned stalked off, 85.
  is oft interred with their bones, 636.
  night, at once, 824.
  night, till it be morrow, 825.
  night, to each a fair, 826.
  the, die first, 822.

Goodness and he fill up one monument, 821.

Government, for forms of, 829.
  makes them seem divine, 827.

Gowans fine, pu'd the, 222.

Grace beyond the reach of art, 831.
  sweet attractive, 397.
  was in all her steps, 551.
  we have forgot, 830.

Grandeur with a disdainful smile, 832.

Grandsire, skilled in gestic lore, 466.

Gratitude of men, 834.
  still small voice of, 833.

Grave, companions in the, 835.
  hungry as the, 951.
  men shiver when thou 'rt named, 836.
  sun shine sweetly on my, 837.
  under the deep sea, 533.

Graves, find ourselves dishonorable, 355.

Great, rightly to be, 839.
  some are born, 838.

Greatness, highest point of all my, 838.

Greece, but living, no more, 842.
  glory that was, 1531.
  sad relic of departed worth, 841.
  the isles of, 843.

Greeks joined Greeks, 844.

Grief, forestall his date of, 847.
  is crowned with consolation, 390.
  my, lies onward, 845.
  silent manliness of, 849.
  the holy name of, 848.
  what's gone should be past, 846.

Ground, haunted, holy, 850.

Groves, frequenting sacred, 852.
  were God's first temples, 1951.

Grudge, feed fat the ancient, 853.

Gudgeons, to swallow, 305.

Guest, welcome the coming, 855.

Guests, unbidden, 854.

Guilt, full of artless jealousy, 856.
  once harbored, 857.

Habit, costly thy, 94.

Habits, ill, gather by unseen degrees, 858.
  small, well pursued, 859.

Hags, midnight, call fiends, 2077.

Hair, beauty draws us with a single, 162.
  draws you with a single, 860.
  from his horrid, 360.
  golden, like sunlight, 861.
  streamed like a meteor, 863.
  when you see fair, 862.
  would rouse and stir, 938.

Hairs, his silver, 52.

Halter, felt the, draw, 864.

Hand in hand with you, 865.
  that rounded Peter's dome, 247.
  white, delicate, dimpled, 866.

Hands, now join your, 567.
  that the rod of empire might have swayed, 613.

Hanging and wiving goes by destiny, 1157.

Hangman of creation, 592.

Happiness depends, as nature shows, 868.
  our being's end and aim, 869.
  that makes the heart afraid, 867.

Harm, to win us to our, 1885.

Harmony, from heavenly, 871.
  touches of sweet, 870.

Harp of thousand strings, 1972.
  through Tara's halls, 872.

Haste, let your, commend your duty, 873.
  more, worst speed, 874.

Hat, broad-brimmed, 875.
  the old three-cornered, 233.

Hate me with your hearts, 876.
  wounds of deadly, 877.

Hazards, great things are achieved through, 19.

Head, here rests his, 624.
  oh good gray, 881.
  the wise, the reverend, 882.

Health, better to hunt in fields for, 884.
  with, all pleasure flies, 883.

Heart bowed down by weight of woe, 888.
  incessant battery to her, 421.
  may give a lesson, 889.
  merry, goes all the day, 885.
  rise, thy Lord is risen, 602.
  she wants a, 886.
  we cannot heal the throbbing, 379.

Hearts, great, have largest room to bless, 840.

Heathen Chinee is peculiar, 433.

Heaven doth with us as we with torches, 2010.
  hath a hand in these events, 1486.
  is above all yet, 891.
  is as the book of God, 892.
  sends us good meat, 406.

Hecuba, what's, to him, 977.

Heir, creation's, 901.
  of all the ages, 900.

Hell, better to reign in, 576.
  breathes out contagion, 894.
  fear of, a hangman's whip, 694.
  grew darker at their frown, 896.
  is a city much like London, 899.
  itself should gape, 542.
  merit heaven by making earth a, 898.
  never mentions, to ears polite, 897.

Heralds high before him run, 448.

Hero in our eyes, 903.
  when his sword, 904.

Heroes are much the same, 902.
  as great have died, 905.

Hesperus rode brightest, 1215.

High as we have mounted, 523.

Highland Mary, spare his, 1355.

Hill, mine be the breezy, 837.

Hills of the stormy North, 907.
  rock-ribbed and ancient, 906.

History hath but one page, 908.

Holiday, butchered to make a Roman, 910.

Holidays, if all the year were, 909.

Holly round the Christmas hearth, 325.

Homage, no worthless pomp of, 912.

Home is the resort of love, 913.
  is the sailor, 915.
  kindred points of heaven and, 917.
  no place like, 916.

Homer, deep-browed, 919.
  seven cities warred for, 920.
  will be all the books you need, 918.

Homes, forced from their, 639.

Honest man's the noblest work of God, 922.

Honey, surfeited with, 1572.

Honey-bees, so work the, 165.

Honor and shame from no condition rise, 926.
  comes, a pilgrim gray, 928.
  rooted in dishonor, 927.
  sinks where commerce long prevails, 364.
  too much, a burthen, 923.
  travels in a strait so narrow, 924.

Honor's a fine imaginary notion, 925.
  at the stake, 839.

Hood, a page of, 929.

Hope abandon, ye who enter in, 936.
  farewell, and farewell, fear, 634.
  flies with swallows' wings, 930.
  heavenly, is all serene, 934.
  in thy sweet garden grow, 933.
  never comes that comes to all, 935.
  springs eternal, 932.
  withering fled, 878.

Hope's tender blossoms, 194.

Horn, Triton blow his wreathed, 937.

Horrors, on horror's head, 939.
  supped full with, 938.

Horse, my kingdom for a, 940.
  one, was blind, 1676.

Hospitality, doing deeds of, 332.

Host, leader, mingling with the vulgar, 943.
  such a numerous, 518.

Hounds, they rouse from sleep, 952.

Hour, catch the transient, 945.
  for one short, to see the souls, 779.
  this pernicious, 454.
  too busy with the crowded, 944.
  when lover's vows, 2018.

Hours, lovers' absent, 6.

House, a naked, 183.
  there's nae luck about the, 946.

Humanity, O suffering, sad, 948.
  still, sad music of, 947.

Hunger best, who bears, 615.

Huntsman, the healthy, 952.

Husband, advices frae the wife despises, 954.
  as the, is, the wife is, 953.

Hypocrisy, evil that walks invisible, 956.

Hypocrite had left his mark, 957.

Ice in June, 511.
  motionless as, 958.

Idea, teach the young, 959.

Ignorance, from, our comfort flows, 962.
  is the curse of God, 961.

Ilium, topless towers of, 1670.

Ills, cure for life's worst, 449.
  the scholar's life assail, 965.

Illusion is brief, 1477.

Image, a lasting, of the mind, 1382.

Imagination all compact, 966.
  appear so fair to, 968.
  is the air of mind, 967.

Immortality, thoughts born for, 970.
  this longing after, 969.

Impossible, what's, can't be, 971.

Impudence, he that has but, 972.

Independence, let, be our boast, 976.
  thy spirit, let me share, 975.

Infidel, a daring, 980.

Ingratitude, I hate, 983.
  thou marble-hearted fiend, 984.

Inhumanity, man's, to man, 986.

Inn, every house was an, 942.
  warmest welcome at an, 987.

Innocence, glides in modest, away, 989.
  silence of pure, 988.

Instinct and reason, how divide, 990.

Invention, the, all admired, 991.

Iron, man that meddles with cold, 992.

Isle in far-off seas, 993.

Isles that o'erlace the sea, 994.

Italia, who has fatal beauty, 995.

Italy, my Italy, 996.

Ivy green, a dainty plant, 997.

January, then came old, 998.

Jealousy, beware, my lord, of, 999.
  no true love without, 1000.
  the injured lover's hell, 1001.

Jest, a scornful, 1003.

Jest's, a, prosperity lies in the, 1002.

Jewel in an Ethiope's ear, 1004.

John Anderson, my jo, 1109.
  some said, print it, 1383.

Joke to cure the dumps, 1005.

Jove laughs at lovers' perjuries, 1327.
  lifts the golden balances, 136.

Joy, capacity for, 1006.
  is the mainspring, 1007.

Joys, how fading are the, 95.
  too exquisite to last, 1008.

Judas kissed his master, 1946.

Judges soon the sentence sign, 950.

Judgment, a Daniel come to, 1009
  reserve thy, 41.
  thou art fled to brutish beasts, 1010.
  where men of, creep, 1437.

July, boiling like to fire, 1011.

June, what so rare as a day in, 1012.

Juries give their verdict, 1014.

Jury passing on the prisoner's life, 1013.

Just, actions of the, 23.

Justice, finally, triumphs, 1017.
  in fair round belly, 1015.
  will o'ertake the crime, 1234.

Keys, two massy, he bore, 1018.

Kin, a little more than, 1019.
  makes the whole world, 1020.

Kindness shall win my love, 1021.
  unremembered acts of, 1022.

Kings and mightiest potentates, 489.
  are like stars, 1024.
  may be blest, 964.
  showers on her, barbaric pearl, 1025.
  what have, save ceremony, 1023.
  wretched state of, 1539.

Kiss, I, your eyes, 1030.
  me, and be quiet, 585.
  one, and then another, 1031.

Kisses, plucked up, by the roots, 1026.
  remembered after death, 1032.
  sweetness shed by, 1029.

Kissing, for, not for contempt, 1027.

Kitchen, in the, bred, 787.

Knave, he's an arrant, 1033.

Knaves, whip me such honest, 1034.

Knell, by fairy hands is rung, 1035.
  ne'er sighed at the sound of a, 1036.

Knowledge, be innocent of the, 1614.
  by suffering entereth, 1039.
  comes, but wisdom lingers, 1040.
  is as food, 1037.
  is ourselves to know, 1038.
  to their eyes her ample page, 1041.
  true, leads to love, 1042.

Labor for his daily bread, 1046.
  is prayer, 1044.
  joy that springs from, 1045.
  swan with bootless, swim, 1043.
  to, is the lot of man, 1047.

Ladies, like variegated tulips, 1048.
  sigh no more, 973.

Lady, accept the gift, 1751.

Lake, on thy fair bosom, silver, 1049.

Lamentation, its lonesome and low, 536.

Land, my own, my native, 1051.
  of brown heath, 1051.

Landscape tire the view, 1053.

Language, fit, there is none, 1054.
  quaint and olden, 1055.

Lark, the herald of the morn, 1056.
  the, left his nest, 1057.

Larks, the early, 1827.

Lass, a penniless, 1058.

Latin, that soft bastard, 1059.

Laughter, holding his sides, 1060.
  shakes the skies, 1061.

Law, in, what plea so tainted, 1062.
  sovereign, sits empress, 1064.

Laws grind the poor, 1063.

Leaf is on the tree, 245.
  the sere, the yellow, 1065.

Learning enlightens to corrupt the mind, 1069.
  mourning for the death of, 1068.
  on scraps of, dote, 1070.

Leaves have their times to fall, 496.
  like, on trees, 1067.
  shady, of destiny, 541.

Letters, all dead paper, 1073.
  Cadmus gave, 1075.
  that betray the heart's history, 1074.

Liberty, I must have, 1076.
  like day, breaks, 1079.
  mountain nymph, sweet, 1081.
  when, is gone, 1078.

Liberty's, in, defence, 1077.
  in every blow, 1080.

Lie, an odious, damned, 1082.
  nothing can need a, 1088.

Life a curse and not a blessing, 1086.
  by his, alone, 637.
  high, 108.
  hovers like a star, 1087.
  is but a span, 500.
  is not to be bought, 1092.
  is scarce the twinkle of a star, 1088.
  is so dreary, 536.
  is the gift of God, 1089.
  nor love thy, nor hate, 1085.
  pure in its purpose, 981.
  sacred burden is this, 248.
  so careless of the single, 1093.
  twenty years of, 1816.
  what is, 1090.
  whoso lives the holiest, 911.

Life 's a short summer, 945.
  a vast sea, 1091.
  but a means, 614.
  but a walking shadow, 1084.

Light, a dim religious, 275.
  offspring of Heaven, 1094.
  that led astray, 1095.
  that never was, 1096.
  the prime work of God, 187.
  to break and melt in sunder, 1097.

Lightning, brief as the, 1098.

Lightnings, the rending, 1883.

Likeness, long shall we seek his, 1668.

Lilacs, April brings again, 105.

Lilies, in the beauty of the, 320.
  in twisted braids of, 1100.

Lily, mistress of the field, 1099.

Line, cadence of a rugged, 252.
  Marlowe's mighty, 1102.
  marred the lofty, 1103.
  will the, stretch, 577.

Lion, wounds the earth, 1104.

Lions, talks familiarly of, 197.

Lips, her, are roses washed with dew, 1105.
  when my, meet thine, 1028.

Little, contented with, 1106.
  man wants but, 1107.

Lives of great men, 738.

Loan, a, oft loses a friend, 1071.

Locks, never shake thy gory, 1108.

Lodge in some vast wilderness, 2049.

Logic, in, a great critic, 1110.

London, the villain's home, 1111.

Longings, immortal, in me, 1112.

Looks, talked with, profound, 1114.
  woman's, my only books, 1113.

Lord of himself, that heritage of woe, 1115.
  of himself, though not of lands, 1116.

Loss is common, 1117.

Love and tears for the Blue, 1878.
  hail, wedded, 1160.
  has an eye for a dinner, 1135.
  him, why did she, 1131.
  how could I tell I should, 1121.
  in a hut is ashes, 1130.
  includes heart and mind, 1127.
  is a spirit of fire, 1119.
  is at home on a carpet, 1135.
  is nature's treasure, 1136.
  is the only good, 1123.
  let those, who never loved before, 1125.
  looks not with the eyes, 447.
  man's, is a thing apart, 1133.
  mutual, brings delight, 1124.
  no partnership allows, 1126.
  O last, O first, 9.
  purple light of, 193.
  rules the court, 1134.
  seldom haunts the breast where, 1995.
  she never told her, 374.
  taught him shame, 337.
  this spring of, 1118.
  took up the harp of Life, 319.
  tunes the shepherd's reed, 1134.
  what, can do, 1122.
  when he draws his bow, 423.

Loved and lost, better to have, 1128.
  so kindly, had we never, 1129.

Loveliness needs not ornament, 36.
  when unadorned, adorned the most, 36.

Lover rooted stays, 191.

Loving are the daring, 476.
  no pleasure like the pain of, 1132.

Luxury, cursed by heaven, 1137.
  it was a, to be, 1138.

Mad, I am not, 1139.

Madding crowd's ignoble strife, 443.

Madmen, the worst of, 1558.

Madness, moody, laughing wild, 1141.
  must not unwatched go, 1140.

Madrigals, birds sing, 1518.

Mahomet, moon of, 442.

Maid, be good, sweet, 823.

Maker, our, bids increase, 284.

Malice, nor set down aught in, 96.

Man, what, dare, I dare, 414.
  dare do all that may become a, 415.
  dwells apart, 1760.
  foremost, of this world, 237.
  good, never dies, 282.
  groan, hear a good, 370.

Man 's a man for a' that, 1147.
  is a summer's day, 1148.
  is one world, 1145.
  is the nobler growth, 1717.
  let each, do his best, 5.
  made the town, 412.
  O good old, 91.
  O that a mighty, 425.
  proper study of mankind is, 1146.
  take him for all in all, 1143.
  that lays his hand upon a woman, 427.
  the eternal epic of the, 1149.
  this was a, 1144.
  to all the country dear, 340.
  what is, 1150.
  what may, within him hide, 1142.
  while, is growing, 179.

Manhood, when verging into age, 53.

Mankind, he who surpasses or subdues, 612.

Manna, his tongue dropt, 610.

Manners ne'er were preached, 1151.
  with fortunes, 1152.

Mansions, build thee more stately, 1307.

Marble, in water writ, but this in, 1154.
  of her snowy breast, 230.
  sleep in dull cold, 1153.

March is come at last, 1155.
  we know thou art kind-hearted, 1156.

Marlowe's mighty line, 1102.

Marriage is a matter of more worth, 1158.
  is the life-long miracle, 1161.
  the joys of, 1159.

Martyr in his shirt of fire, 1163.

Martyrs, life has its, 1162.

Master is of churlish disposition, 332.

Masters, men are, of their fates, 1165.
  we cannot all be, 1164.

Match, sun ne'er saw her, 1326.

Matter, Berkeley said there was no, 1166.

Maxim, old, in the schools, 719.

May, leads with her the flowery, 1169.
  the new-born, 1168.
  the voice is thine, sweet, 1167.

Meals, unquiet, make ill digestions, 603.

Means, I'll husband them, 271.

Meat, some hae, and canna eat, 604.

Meeting, at the hour of, 1171.

Melancholy marked him for her own, 624.
  there 's such a charm in, 1172.
  these pleasures, give, 1173.
  what charm can soothe her, 733.

Melodies unheard before, 1175.

Memory, dear to, though lost to sight, 1178.
  eyes of, will not sleep, 1177.
  from the table of, 1176.
  pluck from, a rooted sorrow, 392.

Men are children of larger growth, 1179.
  I pity bashful, 146.
  may jest with saints, 182.
  that stumble at the threshold, 2027.
  were deceivers ever, 973.
  wise, ne'er wail their loss, 26.

Men's evil manners live in brass, 2011.

Mercie, who will not, show, 1181.

Mercy, quality of, is not strained, 1180.

Merit true, to befriend, 1182.
  wins the soul, 299.

Messenger, many-colored, 1430.

Meteor flag of England, 715.

Midnight brought on the dusky hour, 1184.
  iron tongue of, 1183.
  't is, 1185.

Milk, sweet, of concord, 377.

Milton, that mighty orb of song, 1186.

Mind, body filled and vacant, 1490.
  grand prerogative of, 1189.
  is its own place, 1187.
  leafless desert of the, 534.
  minister to a, diseased, 392.
  to me a kingdom is, 1190.

Mind's height, measure your, 1188.

Minstrel raptures swell, for him no, 1436.

Miracle, love-at-first-sight, 540.

Mirth and fun grew fast, 1193.
  can into folly glide, 732.
  heart-easing, 1192.
  you have displaced the, 564.

Mischief, thou art swift, 1194.
  to, mortals bend, 1195.

Misery had worn him to the bones, 1196.
  he gave to, all he had, 216.
  sacred even to gods, 1197.

Misfortune made the throne her seat, 1199.

Mists, season of, 127.

Mockery, unreal, hence, 1202.

Modesty, grace and blush of, 1204.
  looks replete with, 1203.

Monarch, a morsel for a, 1205.

Monarchs, fate of mighty, 1206.

Money, get, no matter by what means, 1210.
  if thou wilt lend this, 1072.
  rolled in, like pigs, 1208.
  the only power, 1209.

Monuments of princes, 1212.

Mood, a sunny, 304.
  fantastic as a woman's, 1214.

Moon is an arrant thief, 1521.
  had climbed the highest hill, 1217.
  how like a queen, 1216.
  is carried off in purple fire, 1222.
  of Mahomet, 442.
  unveiled her peerless light, 1215.
  when the, shone, 367.
  where sighs are deposited, 1686.

Moonlight, meet me by, 1856.

Moor, a naked, 183.

Morality, unawares, expires, 1218.

Morn, sweet is the breath of, 1220.

Morning, in the, thou shalt hear, 1223.
  opes her golden gates, 1219.
  steals upon night, 482.

Morning-star of memory, 748.

Mortality's strong hand, 1225.

Mother is a mother still, 1227.

Mother's heart is weak, 1226.

Motions, a third interprets, 544.

Mount, I know a, 1228.
  I, toward the sky, 1230.

Mountain tops, he who ascends to, 612.

Mountains, circling the, 346.
  high, are a feeling, 1229.

Mountebanks, cheating, 1411.

Mourner, the only constant, 460.

Mouth that spits forth death, 197.

Murder may pass unpunished, 1234.
  most foul, 1233.
  one, made a villain, 438.

Music has charms to soothe, 1237.
  heavenly maid, 1239.
  in them, die with all their, 1241.
  man that hath no, 1235.
  slumbers in the shell, 1240.
  sweet compulsion in, 373.
  the fiercest grief can charm, 1238.

Music's golden tongue, 1236.

Nails, come near your beauty with my, 362.

Naked, the, every day he clad, 345.

Name, take not his, 1842.
  the magic of a, 1243.
  what's in a, 1242.

Nation, one, evermore, 1314.

Nations, fierce contending, 556.

Nature, accuse not, 18.
  Art is the child of, 110.
  ever yields reward, 1244.
  gave signs of woe, 597.
  how fair is thy face, 1245.
  is but art, 289.
  made a pause, 434.
  made us men, 335.
  speaks a various language, 1246.

Nature's heart beats strong, 890.

Necessity, the tyrant's plea, 515.

Neptune, he would not flatter, 1707.

Nettle, out of this, danger, 472.

News, bringer of unwelcome, 1247.
  evil, rides post, 1248.

Newton, let, be, 1250.

Night, ancestral mystery, 1256.
  darkens the streets, 170.
  is the time to weep, 1258.
  shadow of a starless, 538.
  that from the eye takes, 1254.
  upon the palms, 1257.
  wanes, 1221.
  witching time of, 894.
  with her sullen wing, 1255.

Nightingale, if she should sing by day, 1259.
  that on yon bloomy spray, 1260.

Noble by birth, 1261.
  who is honest is, 1262.

Noon, dark amid the blaze of, 186.

Noontide wakes the buttercups, 251.

North, ask where 's the, 1263.

November, he full gross and fat, 1264.

November's rain descends, 1265.

Numbers, I lisped in, 1266.

Nun, quiet as a, 34.

Oak, I will rend an, 19
  who hath ruled in the greenwood, 1268.

Oaks, charmed by the stars, 1267.

Oar, soft moves the dipping, 198.

Oars, our, keep time, 314.
  were silver, 1269.

Oaths that make the truth, 1270.
  were not purposed to, 1271.

Obedience is the Christian's crown, 1273.

Obey, let them, 1272.

Observation, doth not smack of, 1274.

Observations which ourselves make, 1623.

Ocean leans against the land, 517.
  stretched in light, 1276.
  sunless retreats of the, 547.
  thou deep and dark blue, 1275.
  wave, a life on the, 2033.

October, calm sunshine of, 1277.

October's foliage yellows, 1278.

Odds, I would allow him, 521.

Odors, when sweet violets sicken, 2008.

Odyssey, Iliad and the, 143.

Offence, detest the, 1280.
  should bear his comment, 1279.

Oil, incomparable, Macassar, 368.

Old age comes on apace, 60.
  age serene and bright, 61.
  as I am, 158.
  though I look, 1281.

Ones, how many great, 125.

Ophiuchus huge, 360.

Opinion, of his own, still, 1284.

Opinion's but a fool, 1283.

Opportunity, thy guilt is great, 1285.

Oracle. I am Sir, 1286.

Orations, make no long, 212.

Orators, to the famous, repair, 1287.

Order in variety we see, 64.
  is heaven's first law, 1288.

Ornament is but the guiled shore, 1289.

Orthodox, prove their doctrine, 574.

Owe, you say, you nothing, 505.

Owl, the fatal bellman, 1290.

Oyster, the world's mine, 2106.

Page, glory gilds the sacred, 175.

Pageant, insubstantial, faded, 569.

Pageants, they are black vesper's, 1689.

Pain is no longer pain, 1292.
  pays the income, 1291.

Painter, when some great, 1294.

Pair, kindest and the happiest, 739.

Palm, like some tall, 1295.

Palpable and familiar, 484.

Pan is dead, 1296.

Pang preceding death, 1297.

Pangs, the keenest, the wretched find, 534.

Paradise, how grows in, our store, 1298.
  of Fools, 735.

Pardon, a, after execution, 361.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, 825.
  the pain of, 1302.

Partings break the heart, 1303.

Passion leads or prudence points the way, 1403.
  places which, loves, 1304.
  the power of that sweet, 1120.

Passions are likened to floods, 1305.
  may I govern my, 1624.
  oft, to hear her shell, 1239.
  various ruling, 1543.

Past, let the dead, bury its dead, 780.
  over the trackless, 1306.

Patience is a plant, 1311.
  is the exercise of saints, 1310.
  poor they are, that have not, 1308.
  thou young cherubim, 1309.
  times when, proves at fault, 1312.

Patriots, true, all, 413.

Pauper, he's only a, 202.

Peace, a, is of the nature of a conquest, 1317.
  hath her victories, 1320.
  uproar the universal, 377.
  was on the earth, 1321.
  weak piping time of, 1318.
  why prate of, 1319.

Pearls at random strung, 1322.

Pen, dull product of a scoffer's, 1324.
  is mightier than the sword, 1323.

People, a herd confused, 1325.

Perseverance keeps honor bright, 1328.

Person, what's a fine, 530.

Persuasion, divine, flows, 1329.

Petitions, petition me no, 1330.

Phalanx, they move in perfect, 1213.

Phantom of delight, 527.

Philosophy, how charming is divine, 1331.
  will clip an angel's wings, 1433.

Physic, take, pomp, 1333.
  throw, to the dogs, 1332.

Piety, a trade, 1334.

Pilot, 't is a fearful night, 1335.

Pines, silent sea of, 1336.

Pipe when tipped with amber, 1337.

Pity gave ere charity began, 1339.
  is the virtue of the law, 1338.

Place, fittest, where man can die, 1340.
  give me the lowest, 949.
  stands upon a slippery, 471.

Player, a strutting, 27.

Playmates, I have had, 311.

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short, 21.
  and revenge more deaf than adders, 1342.
  is as great, 303.
  must succeed to pleasure, 1344.
  to excess, 1343.
  with, drugged, 1573.

Pleasures are like poppies spread, 1345.
  he soothed his soul to, 1346.
  that to verse belong, 1352.

Plough, following his, 301.

Ploughman homeward plods, 450.

Poet, God is the perfect, 1351.
  worships without reward, 1350.

Poetry, men are cradled into, by wrong, 1363.
  not, that makes men poor, 1347.

Poets are all who love, 1349.
  have made us heirs, 1353.

Pole, true as the needle to the, 1354.

Poll, flaxen was his, 152.

Pomegranate, from Browning some, 887.

Poppies, with rain, overcharged, 1356.

Possession means to sit astride of the world, 1360.

Potations, banish long, 212.

Poverty, but not my will, consents, 1361.
  stood smiling in my sight, 1364.

Power, they should take who have the, 1366.
  what can, give, 1365.

Prairie, low in the light the, lies, 1367.

Praise from a friend, 285.

Praising what is lost, 1368.

Prayer incessant, if by, 1371.
  more things are wrought by, 1374.

Prayers, God answers sharp and sudden, 1373.

Prayeth best who loveth best, 1372.

Preached as never sure to preach again, 1375.

Present is all thou hast, 1376.

Press the people's right maintain, 1377.
  turn to the, 1249.

Priam's self shall fall, 1542.

Pride hath no other glass, 1378.
  that apes humility, 1379.
  that putts the countrye doune, 343.

Priest, the pale-eyed, 1380.
  this, he merry is, 1916.

Primrose, a, by a river's brim, 1381.
  peeps beneath the thorn, 35.

Princes, the death of, 168.
  were privileged to kill, 438.

Prior, here lies Matthew, 623.

Prison make, stone walls do not a, 1384.

Procrastination is the thief of time, 1385.

Prodigies, when these, do meet, 1386.

Promise, keep the word of, 1388.

Promotion, none will sweat but for, 91.

Proof, give me the ocular, 1389.

Prose run mad, 1392.
  warbler of poetic, 1393.

Proselytes and converts, 405.
  of one another's trade, 1394.

Prospects, distant, please us, 1395.

Prosperity, surer to prosper than, 1397.

Prosperity's the very bond of love, 1396.

Proteus rising from the sea, 937.

Providence all good and wise, 1400.
  alone secures, 1401.
  behind a frowning, 656.
  I may assert eternal, 1399.
  there 's a special, 1398.

Prude, yon ancient, 1404.

Prussia hurried to the field, 1669.

Pulpit, drum ecclesiastick, 1405.

Punishment, back to thy, 1906.

Puppets led about by wires, 530.

Purity, a maid in the pride of her, 1407.
  from the body's, 339.

Purpose, shake my fell, 1408.

Purse, costly as thy, can buy, 94.
  who steals my, 1409.

Pyramids are pyramids, 1410.

Quaker loves an ample brim, 1414.

Quakers, upright, 1413.

Quarrel, beware of entrance to a, 1415.
  what is your, 399.

Quarrels, they who in, interpose, 1416.

Quickness, with too much, 1418.

Quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, 1419.

Quiets of the past, 1420.

Quips and cranks, 1421.

Quotations, critics suffer in wrong, 1423.

Rabble all alive, 1201.

Race, he lives to build a generous, 1424.

Rage, could swell the soul to, 1425.

Rain came down in slanting lines, 1429.
  comes when the wind calls, 1428.
  how beautiful is the, 1427.
  it raineth every day, 1426.
  trickling, doth fall, 625.

Rainbow, an awful, 1433.
  be thou the, 1391.
  colors of the, 356.
  comes and goes, 1432.
  God hath set his, 1253.

Rank is but the guinea stamp, 1435.
  superior worth your, requires, 1434.

Rattle, pleased with a, 308.

Reader reads no more, 1440.

Reading, such, as was never read, 1441.

Realms, these are our, 1442.

Reason, a woman's, 1443.
  feast of, 219.
  guides our deeds, 990.
  I would make, my guide, 1445.
  raise o'er instinct, 1444.
  sanctity of, 1447.
  the confidence of, give, 1446.
  war with rhyme, 1508.

Rebellion began to grow slack, 1449.
  froze them up, 1448.

Rebuff, then welcome each, 1450.

Rebukes, a lady so tender of, 1451.

Rechabite poor Will must live, 69.

Reckoning, no, made, 17.
  when the banquet's o'er, 1452.

Reconcilement, never can, grow, 1454.

Records that defy the tooth of time, 1455.

Recreation, none so free as fishing, 1457.
  sweet, barred, 1456.

Reflection, remembrance and, 1459.

Reformation, plotting some new, 1460.

Regret can die, 1461.
  wild with all, 1462.

Reign, to, is worth ambition, 576.

Relief, for this, much thanks, 353.

Religion crowns the statesman, 1465.
  has so seldom found, 1466.
  in, what error, 1463.
  is a spring, 1464.
  stands on tiptoe, 1467.
  veils her sacred fires, 1218.

Remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 1468.

Remember the fir trees dark and high, 1472.
  what the Lord hath done, 1370.

Remembered, I 've been so long, 1471.

Remembrance, makes the, dear, 1470.
  writ in, 1469.

Remorse is as the heart, 1473.

Renown, deathless my, 1474.

Repartee, a man renowned for, 1475.

Repentance is long, 1477.
  is the weight, 1478.
  rears her snaky crest, 1479.
  who by, is not satisfied, 1476.

Repose, best of men have loved, 1480.
  in statue-like, 1481.

Reproaches, slanderous, 1719.

Reproof on her lips, 1483.
  those can bear, 1482.

Reputation, at every word a, dies, 544.
  seeking the bubble, 1754.
  the purest treasure, 1484.

Resignation gently slopes away, 1487.

Resolution, the native hue of, 386.

Respect upon the world, 1489.

Respects himself, he that, 1633.

Rest is sweet after strife, 1491.
  too much, becomes a pain, 1492.

Retirement, O blest, 1495.

Retiring from the popular noise, 1494.

Retreat, a brave, 1496.

Revelry, midnight shout and, 1497.
  there was a sound of, 1498.

Revenge, back on itself recoils, 1500.

Reverence, none so poor to do him, 254.
  to yond peeping moon, 1502.

Revolution, there is great talk of, 1503.

Rhetoric, dear wit and gay, 1505.
  he could not ope his mouth, 1504.

Rhetorician's, a, rules, 1932.

Rhine, the river, 1507.
  the wide and winding, 1506.

Rhinoceros, the armed, 414.

Rhyme, build the lofty, 1509.
  hitches in a, 1996.
  the rudder is of verses, 1510.

Rich, if thou art, thou art poor, 2036.

Rich with forty pounds a year, 340.

Riches in a little room, 1511.
  the toil of fools, 1512.

Ride, a wild and lonely, 1761.

Ridicule is a weak weapon, 1513.
  sacred to, 1514.

Right the day must win, 1516.
  was right, 1515.
  whatever is, is, 1517.

River glideth, 1520.

Rivers, by shallow, 1518.
  how they run, 1519.

Road, on a lonesome, 708.

Robin, call for the, and the wren, 1066.

Rock, moulder piecemeal on the, 1522.
  of Ages, 1523.
  this, shall fly, 1524.

Rod, his, reversed, 1525.
  to check the erring, 593.

Roman, rather be a dog than such a, 1527.
  the noblest, 1528.

Romance, shores of old, 1530.

Romances paint people's wooings, 1529.

Rome, aisles of Christian, 247.
  grandeur that was, 1531.

Room, who sweeps a, 24.

Rose, a, should shut, 1535.
  distilled, 283.
  looks fair, 1533.
  no more desire a, 1532.
  saith in the dewy morn, 1536.
  would smell as sweet, 1242.

Rosebuds, gather ye, 1914.

Roses, I wish the sky would rain, 1534.
  in December, 511.
  strew on her, 1537.

Rousseau, self-torturing sophist, wild, 1538.

Rout on rout, 383.

Ruin, fires of, glow, 1541.
  prodigious, swallows all, 1542.
  seize thee, 382.
  upon ruin, 383.

Ruins of himself, 507.

Rumor is a pipe, 1544.

Rural life, pleasures of the, 1545.

Sabbath brings its release, 1550.
  eternal, of his rest, 1549.
  he who ordained the, 1547.

Sailor, a drunken, on a mast, 1552.
  messmate, hear a brother, 1554.

Sails, purple the, 1555.
  that drift at night, 1671.

Saint, a, run mad, 1558.
  in crape, 108.
  John mingles with my friendly bowl, 219.
  would be, the devil a, 546.

Saints began their reign, 1557.
  immortal reign, 1559.
  who led the way to heaven, 1560.
  will aid, 1561.

Salt, the, is spilt, 1562.
  who ne'er knew, 1564.
  why shun the, 1563.

Salutations of the crowd, 1358.

Salvation, no relish of, 1565.
  none of us should see, 1566.

Sand, an heap of lime and, 1540.

Sands, come unto these yellow, 1567.
  ignoble things, 1568.
  o' Dee, 277.

Sappho loved and sung, 843.

Satan, arch-enemy, called, 1569.
  finds some mischief still, 1570.
  stood unterrify'd, 360.
  trembles when he sees, 1571.
  was now at hand, 445.

Satire, in general, 1576.
  let, be my song, 1575.

Satire's my weapon, 1574.

Savage, wild in woods, 1577.

Saws, full of wise, 1015.

Scandal them, fawn on men, and, 1579.
  waits on greatest state, 1578.

Scars, gashed with honorable, 1582.
  he jests at, 1581.

Scene, solitary, silent, solemn, 331.

Scenes, gay gilded, 1583.

Sceptic, whatever, could inquire for, 1585.

Sceptre, a barren, 444.
  shows the force of power, 1586.

Schemes, our most romantic, 583.

Scholar, a ripe and good, 1587.
  the gentleman and, 1588.

Scholars, the land of, 1589.

School, the master taught his, 1591.

School-boy, the whining, 1590.

Schools, bewildered in the maze of, 430.

Science frowned not on his humble birth, 1174.
  O star-eyed, 1593.
  trace, then, with modesty thy guide, 1592.

Scorn makes after-love the more, 1594.
  on the pedestal of, 1596.
  the sound of public, 1597.
  to point his finger at, 1595.

Scotia, my native soil, 1599.

Scotland, stands, where it did, 1598.

Scotland's strand, fair, 1600.

Scribblers are my game, 1601.

Scripture, the devil can cite, 1422.
  writ by God's own hand, 1602.

Sculptor wields the chisel, 1604.

Sculpture is more divine, 1603.

Sea, alone on a wide, 71.
  compassed by the inviolate, 1607.
  down to a sunless, 282.
  grew civil at her song, 1605.
  is a thief, 1521.
  puft up with proud disdaine, 1882.
  sailed upon the dark blue, 1556.
  the blue, the fresh, 1606.
  when the, was roaring, 1608.

Seamen on the deep, 1553.

Seas roll to waft me, 262.

Seasons, all please alike, 1611.
  in four forms appear, 1610.
  return, with the year, 1612.

Seat, a, in some poetic nook, 1613.

Secret, a, in his mouth, 1616.

Sect, slave to no, 1618.
  with every, agreed, 1617.

Security is mortal's chiefest enemy, 1619.

Seed, fruit from such a, 1620.
  who soweth good, 1493.

Self, smote the chord of, 319.
  something dearer than, 1621.
  to thine own, be true, 211.

Self-concern, in others, 1629.

Self-defence is a virtue, 1625.

Self-dispraise, a luxury in, 1627.

Self-esteem, nothing profits more than, 1628.

Self-love is not so vile a sin, 1630.

Self-love, the spring of motion, 1631.

Self-reproach, men who feel no, 1632.

Self-sacrifice, the spirit of, 1634.

Senates, the applause of listening, 103.

Sense, good, the gift of heaven, 1636.
  motions of the, 1635.

Sensibilities are so acute, 1637.

Sensibility, thou keen delight, 1638.

September waves his golden-rod, 1640.

Sermon, perhaps turn out a, 1642.

Sermons in stones, 1641.

Serpent, like Aaron's, 1645.
  of old Nile, 1644.
  sting thee twice, 1643.
  the trail of the, 1646.

Serpent's tooth, sharper than a, 985.

Serve, 't is nobleness to, 1648.

Service devine, she sange the, 1647.
  poorest, is repaid, 1893.
  small, is true service, 769.

Sex, no stronger than my, 1649.
  spirits can either, assume, 1650.

Sexton, hoary-headed chronicle, 1651.
  tolled the bell, 1652.

Shadow both ways falls, 1654.
  see my, as I pass, 1653.

Shaft, when I had lost one, 1656.

Shakespeare, Fancy's child, 1660.
  on whose forehead, 1659.
  thou art a monument, 1658.
  tongue that, spake, 757.
  what needs my, 1661.

Shame, her blush of maiden, 1663.
  where is thy blush, 1662.

Shape, if, it might be called, 1665.
  take any, but that, 1664.

She is mine own, 2044.
  walks the waters, 1672.
  was a form of life, 748.

Shell, applying to his ear a, 1666.

Shelley, did you once see, 1667.

Shells, picking up, by the ocean, 1251.

Shepherd, every, tells his tale, 880.

Sheridan, hurrah for, 1796.
  nature formed but one such man, 1668.

Ship, as idle as a painted, 1673.
  has weathered every rack, 264.
  of State, 1316.
  steer a, becalmed, 828.

Ships have gone down at sea, 1941.

Shore, a rapture on the lonely, 1679.
  left their beauty on the, 1678.

Shot, bounding at the, 1785.
  heard round the world, 239.

Show and gaze o' the time, 1681.
  books and money placed for, 1682.

Shriek, a solitary, 62.

Shrine, a faith's pure, 1683.

Sickness, this, doth infect, 1684.

Sighs, a world of, 1685.

Sight, it is a goodly, 1688.
  lost to, to memory dear, 7.
  O loss of, 187.

Silence bewrays more woe, 1691.
  deep as death, 1694.
  is the herald of joy, 1690.
  more musical than song, 1692.
  was pleased, 1693.
  where hath been no sound, 1695.

Silver, moon that tips with, 1696

Simplicity, in his, sublime, 1699.
  simple truth miscalled, 1698.

Sin, cut off in my, 1700.
  I waive the quantum o' the, 1704.
  in lashing, 1702.
  one, another doth provoke, 1701.
  the good man's, 1703.

Sincerity, showed bashful, 1706.

Sing because I must, 1711.
  seraph, poet, 1709.

Singing, all my heart in my, 1710.

Singularity, all have some darling, 1713.

Sins they are inclined to, 1705.

Sister, when I was but your, 1714.

Skill, simple truth his utmost, 1715.

Skin not colored like his own, 1723.

Sky, souls are ripened in our northern, 1717.
  the, is changed, 1718.
  the, is overcast, 1884.

Slackness breeds worms, 250.

Slander, foulest whelp of sin, 1721.
  sharper than the sword, 1720.

Slave, this yellow, 1207.
  thou art a, 1722.
  whatever day makes man a, 1725.

Sleep hath its own world, 1731.
  he giveth his beloved, 1733.
  life is rounded with a, 1727.
  O magic, 1730.
  silent as night, 1734.
  that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, 1728.
  that knows not breaking, 1732.
  the poor man's wealth, 1728.
  tired nature's sweet restorer, 1729.
  will bring thee dreams, 1735.

Slime that sticks on filthy deeds, 921.

Sloth views the towers of Fame, 1736.

Sluggard, 't is the voice of the, 1737.

Smile, and be a villain, 1738.
  Death grinned a ghastly, 1740.
  from partial beauty won, 1741.
  that was childlike and bland, 1739.
  the good man's, 1742.

Smiles, the tears, of boyhood's years, 221.

Smoke that so gracefully curled, 1748.

Snail, creeping like, 220.
  shrinks backward, 1744.

Snails, her feet like, 699.

Snake, we have scotch'd the, 1745.

Snow, a cheer for the, 1747.
  in December, 1746.
  the, arrives, 1748.

Snow-drop, the, comes on, 1749.

Snuff, he only took, 1750.
  prevent your ladyship from taking, 1751.

Society became my glittering bride, 1753.
  man in, is like a flower, 1752.
  one polished horde, 209.

Softness and attractive grace, 397.

Soldier, full of oaths, 1754.
  he would have been a, 1755.
  shall I ask the brave, 436.
  the broken, 1756.
  thou more than, 1757.

Soles, let firm, protect thy feet, 1677.

Solid men of Boston, 212.

Solitude sometimes is society, 1758.
  where are the charms, 1759.

Son, a booby, 1763.
  no, of mine succeeding, 1762.

Song, dear to gods and men is sacred, 1766.
  forbids deeds to die, 1712.
  higher than the perfect, 1888.
  moralized his, 1765.
  one immortal, 1764.
  still govern thou my, 120.

Sonnet, scorn not the, 1767.

Sons and brothers at a strife, 399.
  of France, awake to glory, 807.

Sorrow comes too soon, 1770.
  give, words, 1768.
  hang, 270.
  one, never comes, 1769.

Sorrow's crown of sorrow, 1771.

Sorrows, tell all thy, 379.

Sots, what can ennoble, 82.

Soul, bruised with adversity, 38.
  Charoba once possest, 263.
  discontented with capacity, 263.
  flow of, 219.
  he shall not blind his, 338.
  is as free as the stars, 1639.
  that rises with us, 178.
  the depth of the, 1774.
  the sleepless, 301.
  whither went his, 1772.

Soul's, the, prerogative, 1773.

Souls, two, with but a single thought, 1981.

Sound must seem an echo, 1775.

Source of being, hail, 522.

Spain, lovely, 1776.

Sparrow, providence in the fall of a, 1398.

Speak, know when to, 42.

Spear, to equal the tallest pine, 1777.

Speculation in those eyes, 795.

Speech is but broken light, 1779.
  rude in my, 1778.

Spenser, fancy's pleasing son, 1780.

Spires, whose finger points to heaven, 1781.

Spirit, the strongest, that fought in heaven, 539.

Spirits from the vasty deep, 1782.

Splendor in the grass, 1784.

Spring, come, gentle, 1787.
  first, like infancy, 1610.
  in the, a livelier iris, 1786.
  of love resembleth, 1980.
  there's no such season, 1788.

Springe, she sets, a, 407.

Spur, I have no, 75.
  to prick us to redress, 1458.

Stage, all the world's a, 1789.

Star, constant as the northern, 394.
  looks forth alone, 1793.

Stars have lit the welkin dome, 714.
  keep not their motion, 1790.
  of the night, 1791.
  shot madly from their spheres, 1605.
  the poetry of heaven, 1792.
  two of the fairest, 644.

Starving, who longest can hold out at, 615.

State, done the, some service, 96.
  mock the air with idle, 385.
  thousand years scarce form a, 1794.

Statesman to a prince, 1795.

Steed that saved the day, 1796.

Steeples, where my high, 1540.

Step, I hear that creaking, 210.

Stoics boast their virtue fixed, 93.

Stones of Rome to rise, 1797.

Storm, against some, 1798.
  rides upon the, 1799.
  under the, and the cloud, 371.

Storms, give her to the god of, 1800.

Story of my life, 1801.
  teach him how to tell my, 1802.

Strangers, by, honored, and by strangers mourned, 1803.

Straw, tickled with a, 308.

Streets, gibber in the Roman, 1804.

Strength, excellent to have a giant's, 1805.

Strife, no, to heal, 1807.
  the madding crowd's ignoble, 443.

Strike, for your altars and your fires, 1313.

Striving to better, oft we mar, 1808.

Strong, to be, is to be happy, 1806.

Study is like the sun, 1809.
  is the trifling of the mind, 1810.

Success, life lives only in, 1813.
  not in mortals to command, 1814.
  things ill got had ever bad, 1812.

Suffering ended with the day, 1481.
  to, tears are due, 1815.

Sufferings, to each his, 378.

Summer, eternal, gilds them yet, 1818.
  grows adult, 1610.

Sun, a, will pierce, 1822.
  hath made a golden set, 1829.
  in dim eclipse, 607.
  is going down, 1882.
  the descending, 1831.
  the glorious, 1820.
  the, is set, 633.
  the worshipped, peered forth, 601.
  unruly, 1821.
  upon an Easter-day, 467.

Sunday shines no Sabbath-day, 1548.
  take, through the week, 1551.

Sunflower, light enchanted, 1823.
  shining fair, 1826.
  the, turns on her god, 1824.

Sunflowers blow in a glow, 1825.

Suns to light me rise, 262.

Sunset, the wondrous golden, 1830.

Sunshine broken in the rill, 1834.
  eternal, settles on its head, 341.
  is a glorious birth, 806.
  see the gold, 1833.
  shall follow the rain, 371.

Surfeit is the father of fast, 1835.

Surprise, mouth that testified, 1836.

Suspense, a cool, 1837.

Suspicion haunts the guilty mind, 1838.

Swain, remote from cities lived a, 781.

Swallow-people, play the, 1839.

Swan, cygnet to this pale faint, 754.
  spreads his snowy sail, 1050.
  with arched neck, 1840.

Swears a prayer or two, 1841.

Sweet, things, to taste, 1843.

Sweetness, of linked, 1844.

Swiftness never ceasing, 1846.

Swimmer in his agony, 62.

Swimmer's, a, stroke, 1847.

Sword, a naked, 1849.
  thy maiden, 1848.

Symbol of hunger, 2081.

Sympathy of love, 1850.
  there 's naught like, 1851.

Synods are mystical bear-gardens, 1852.

Tale, a round unvarnished, 1855.
  I could a, unfold, 1854.
  who so shall tell a, 1853.

Talk, it would, 1861.
  they, who never think, 1859.
  to conceal the mind, 1860.

Talkers are no good doers, 1857.

Talking, I profess not, 5.

Tasso, their glory and their shame, 1862.

Tasso's echoes are no more, 1994.

Taste, good native, 1864.
  talk what you will of, 1863.

Tastes, various are the, 1865.

Taxes, at, rails, 1867.

Tea, sometimes take, 411.
  without a stratagem, 1868.

Teaching and my authority, 1869.

Tear wiped with a little address, 30.

Tears and love for the Gray, 1878.
  beauty's, are lovelier, 1877.
  idle tears, 1876.
  more merry, 1191.
  of bearded men, 1874.
  our present, 1872.
  stood on her cheeks, 1871.
  such as angels weep, 1873.
  the big round, 1870.
  thoughts too deep for, 1875.

Temper, man of such a feeble, 1879.

Temperate in every place, 1880.

Tempers, strange how some men's, 566.

Tempest, foretells a, 1881.

Temptation, safe from, 1887.
  why comes, 1957.

Terror, there is no, in your threats, 1890.

Test, bring me to the, 1891.

Text, many a holy, 1892.

Thane, your face, my, 653.

Thanks to men of noble minds, 1894.

Theatre, as in a, 1895.
  the world 's a, 28.

Thief, steals from the, 1896.
  the sun 's a, 1521.

Thieves and pillagers, 177.

Thing, evil, that walks by night, 797.
  made up of tears and light, 1431.

Things a wise man will not trust, 974.

Things, all, are ready, 29.
  are where things are, 681.

Thinking, with too much, 1418.

Thirst, that panting, 1897.

Thorn that scents the evening gale, 783.
  why choose the rankling, 1898.

Thought is deeper than speech, 1903.
  is eternal, 1900.
  no, should be untold, 1901.
  of our past years, 174.
  wed with thought, 1902.
  what is this, 160.

Thoughts of men are widened, 1387.
  our, are ours, 1899.
  too deep for tears, 1875.

Thread, sewing a double, 1904.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio, 1907.
  may follow fawning, 690.

Throne of royal state, 1908.

Thunder, idle, in his hand, 1909.
  leaps the live, 1910.

Tide in the affairs of men, 1912.
  the turning o' the, 1911.

Tiger, the Hyrcanian, 414.

Tile, in cut and die so like a, 153.

Time, away and mock the, 568.
  doth waste me, 1913.
  threefold the stride of, 1915.

Titles are jests, 1917.
  are marks of honest men, 1918.
  despite those, 1622.

Toad, squat like a, 1919.
  ugly and venomous, 37.

Tobacco, sublime, 1920.

To-day, call, his own, 1921.
  our cares are all, 1922.

Toe, on the light, fantastic, 468.

Toil, the horny hands of, 1923.

Tomb, from the, nature cries, 1924.

Tombs, gilded, worms infold, 97.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, 1925.
  comes, 1927.
  where art thou, beloved, 1928.

To-morrow's sun may never rise, 1926.

Tongue, a good, in thy head, 1929.

Tongue, his, dropt manna, 610.
  in every wound, 1797.
  let the, lick pomp, 1930.
  still his, ran on, 1858.
  that Shakespeare spake, 757.
  who dare dishonor the, 1931.

Tongues in trees, 37.
  of dying men, 119.

Toothache, could endure the, 1933.

Torrent, the loud, 1934.

Torture, waters boil in endless, 1935.

Towers and battlements, 1936.
  the cloud-capped, 569.

Town, man made the, 1937.

Toys, seeks fantastic, 1938.

Trade's proud empire, 1940.
  unfeeling train, 1939.

Train, a melancholy, 342.

Tranquillity, heaven was all, 1941.

Trash, wring from peasants their, 1866.

Traveller, now spurs the, 1942.

Travellers must be content, 1943.

Travelling, in, I take pleasures, 1944.

Treason doth never prosper, 1947.
  flourished over us, 1945.
  is not owned, 1948.

Treasons, stratagems, and spoils, 1235.

Treasure, heaps of miser's, 1949.

Tree, corruption is a, 408.
  dark, still sad, 460.
  fruit of that forbidden, 563.

Trees, a brotherhood of venerable, 1953.
  can smile in light, 1950.
  mine ease under the, 741.
  the lives of, 1811.

Trial, we learn through, 1954.

Tribe, the daring, compound their trash, 1412.

Tricks that are vain, 433.

Trifle, think nought a, 1956.

Trifles make the sum of human things, 1955.

Trouble, double toil and, 1958.

Trust thee, so far will I, 380.

Truth and loyalty, 705.
  beauty is, 1969.
  crushed to earth, 1962.
  forever on the scaffold, 1970.
  has such a face, 1964.
  hath better deeds than words, 1301.
  is one, 1966.
  is the highest thing, 1960.
  is truth, 1967.
  no cleaner thing than love, 1968.
  severe, by fairy fiction, 704.
  tell, and shame the devil, 1961.
  whispering tongues can poison, 395.

Tulip, then comes the, 1971.

Turf, green be the, 1973.

Turk, like the, 1974.

Twig is bent, the tree 's inclin'd, 609.

Twilight, disastrous, sheds, 607.
  fell upon the sea, 1976.
  gray, 1975.

Twins from the birth, 683.

Tyranny of blood and chains, 1979.

Tyrants seem to kiss, 1977.
  'twixt kings and, 1978.

Unction, flattering, to your soul, 528.

Unfortunate, one more, 1438.

Union, strong and great, 1316.

Unity, confound all, 377.

Urania govern thou my song, 120.

Urn, has filled his, 365.

Use doth breed a habit in a man, 457.
  things beyond all, 1983.

Utter what thou dost not know, 1615.

Vale of years, declined into the, 54.

Valentine, couple with my, 1985.

Valiant never taste of death, 426.

Valor, fear to do base things is, 1986.
  shows but a bastard, 1817.

Vanity, insatiate cormorant, 1987.
  what will not, maintain, 1988.

Vapor, as a, all doth vanish, 1224.
  melting in a tear, 1989.

Variety, order in, 64.

Variety 's the spice of life, 1990.

Vault, heaven's ebon, 1991.

Vengeance, in, there is scorn, 1992.
  to God alone belongs, 1501.

Venice, I stood in, 1993.

Ventures, lose our, 453.

Verse, a, may find him, 1348.
  married to immortal, 1844.
  sweetens toil, 1997.

Vessel, a brave, 1674.
  splitting, on the rock, 1675.

Vessels large may venture, 281.

Vice, a, good old-gentlemanly, 133.
  can bolt her arguments, 1999.
  from no one, exempt, 398.
  is a monster, 2000.
  there is no, so simple, 1998.

Victory, graced with wreaths of, 2001.
  it was a famous, 2002.

Villain, a, in all Denmark, 1033.
  one murder made a, 438.
  which is the, 2005.

Villas, suburban, 2004.

Vine, monarch of the, 2006.

Vines that round the thatch-eaves run, 127.

Violet by a mossy stone, 2007.
  throw a perfume on the, 638.

Violets, when sweet, sicken, 2008.

Virginity, hath hurtful power o'er, 797.

Virtue, assume a, 2012.
  calumny will sear, 257.
  may be assailed, 2013.
  starves while vice is fed, 2014.
  that possession would not show us, 1359.

Virtues, their, we write in water, 2011.
  which in parents shine, 81.

Vision, a faery, 356.
  in solemn, 2015.

Visions of glory, 1687.

Visit, annual, o'er the globe, 366.

Voice, her, was ever soft, 2016.

Vows, lovers', seem sweet, 2018.
  made in pain, 600.
  may be broken, 2017.

Vulcan his office plies, 1061.

Wagers, fools for arguments use, 2019.

Walks abroad, whene'er I take my, 2021.
  echoing, between, 2020.

Waller was smooth, 589.

Want gives to know the friend, 1362.

War, grim-visaged, 2023.
  is a game, 2024.
  is a terrible trade, 2026.
  is still the cry, 2025.
  then was the tug of, 844.
  thou son of hell, 2022.
  to provoke, 1402.

Wardens of your farms, 177.

Warrior, he lay like a, 2028.

Washington's a watchword, 2029.

Water, smooth runs the, 2030.
  what good, is worth, 2031.

Wave, a life on the ocean, 2033.
  is breaking on the shore, 1252.
  so dies a, 2032.

Way, the heaven's pathless, 2034.

Ways that are dark, 433.

Weakness, all wickedness is, 2035.

Web, a tangled, we weave, 509.

Wedding, never, ever wooing, 723.

Weed, a, tossed to and fro, 1609.

Weeds, dank and dropping, 2038.

Weep, women must, 2105.

Weight, I give this heavy, 3.

Welcome to our house, 2039.

Welcomes, a hundred thousand, 2040.

Wheels of weary life stood still, 344.

Whim, let every man enjoy his, 978.

Whistled as he went, 1984.

Whole, all are parts of one, 811.

Wickedness, a method in man's, 2042.

Widows, may, wed, 2043.

Wife by her husband stays, 2046.
  this sweet wee, 2047.
  unclouded welcome of a, 2048.

Will, executes a freeman's, 2050.

Willow, willow, willow, 2051.

Wind is rising, 2053.
  more inconstant than the, 581.
  of western birth, 2054.
  the, of night, 2055.
  the southern, 1881.
  what, blew you hither, 2052.

Windows that exclude the light, 2056.

Wine can make the sage frolic, 2058.
  makes love forget, 2057.

Wing, this sail is as a noiseless, 2059.

Wings, at heaven's gates she claps her, 2060.

Winter chills the lap of May, 2064.
  comes to rule, 2062.
  creeps along with tardy pace, 1610.
  has yet brighter scenes, 2063.
  of our discontent, 2061.
  the silver pencil of the, 2065.

Wisdom and fortune, 2066.

Wisdom's self oft seeks, 2069.
  well, the stream from, 2068.

Wise, 't is folly to be, 963.
  to-day, be, 525.
  what is it to be, 2067.

Wish was father to that thought, 2070.

Wishes lengthen as our sun declines, 2071.

Wit, a mouse's, 2072.
  brevity the soul of, 235.
  I have neither, 195.
  is out, when age is in, 51.
  men famed for, 2075.
  on the wings of borrowed, 2076.
  will shine, 252.

Wit 's, a, a feather, 922.
  an unruly engine, 2073.

Wits are to madness allied, 2074.

Wives may be merry, 2045.

Woe doth tread upon another's heel, 1198.
  the deepest notes of, 2080.
  trappings and the suits of, 2078.

Woes, rare are solitary, 2079.
  that wait on age, 59.

Woman, earth's noblest thing, 2088.
  in our hours of ease, 2090.
  lovely, stoops to folly, 733.
  mixed of such fine elements, 2092.
  nothing lovelier in, 2084.
  she is a, 422.
  so she's good, 2089.
  that deliberates is lost, 2091.
  we had been brutes without you, 2085.
  we will work for a, 2093.

Woman 's a contradiction still, 2087.
  will, torrent of a, 2086.

Women are as roses, 2082.
  honor to, 2083.
  should never be dated, 58.

Wonder, it gives me, 1170.
  of an hour, 2094.

Woodland, like a human mind, 2095.

Woodman, spare that tree, 2096.

Woods are an ever-new delight, 741.
  whispered it to the, 2097.

Word in season spoken, 231.

Words, a dearth of, 404.
  are no deeds, 2098.
  are things, 2102.
  chaste, from a bashful mind, 1697.
  have power to assuage, 2100.
  immodest, admit no defence, 512.
  never to heaven go, 2099.
  our, have wings, 2101.

Wordsworth's healing power, 2103.

Work, free men freely, 2104.
  men must, 2105.
  there is always, 1923.

Workmen, when, strive, 424.

World, bestride the narrow, 355.
  I have not loved the, 2110.
  is all a fleeting show, 2109.
  service of the antique, 91.
  this pendent, 2108.
  too much respect upon the, 2107.
  uncertain comes and goes, 191.

World 's, the, a theatre, 28.

Worm, the smallest, will turn, 2111.

Worship without words, 2112.

Worth, courage, honor, 296.
  makes the man, 2113.

Wound, willing to, 2115.

Wounds bind up my, 2114.
  wept o'er his, 707.

Wrath, Achilles', 2117.
  come not within my, 2116.

Wreaths, victorious 2118.

Wrecks, a thousand fearful, 2119.

Wretch, a needy, 2120.
  an inhuman, 446.

Wretches hang that jurymen may dine, 950.
  that depend on greatness' favor, 689.

Wrinkle what stamps the, 59.

Write you, with ease 2121.

Writing well, nature's chief masterpiece, 2122.

Wrong forever on the throne, 1970.
  on, swift vengeance waits, 2123.

Wrongs unredressed, 2124.

Xerxes did die, 2125.

Years following years, 2127.
  I sigh not over vanished, 2128.
  none would live past, 2129.
  the accomplishment of, 2126.

Yesterday, oh, call back, 2130.
  the word of Cæsar might, 254.

Yew, hails me to wonder, 548.
  old, which graspest, 2131.

Youth, home keeping, 2133.
  how beautiful is, 2135.
  how buoyant are thy hopes, 2134.
  lost days of our, 1306.
  no less becomes, 2132.
  on the prow, 2136.

Zeal, his, none seconded, 2138.
  served my God with, 2137.

Zealots, graceless, fight, 663.

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