Familiar Quotations A Collection Of Passages Phrases And Prover
Chapter 34
[632-3] See Crabbe, page 444.
RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (LORD HOUGHTON). 1809-1885.
But on and up, where Nature's heart Beats strong amid the hills.
_Tragedy of the Lac de Gaube. Stanza 2._
Great thoughts, great feelings came to them, Like instincts, unawares.
_The Men of Old._
A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet.
_The Men of Old._
I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still.
_The Brookside._
The beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
_The Brookside._
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 1809- ----.
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.
_Old Ironsides._
Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, The lightning and the gale!
_Old Ironsides._
Like sentinel and nun, they keep Their vigil on the green.
_The Cambridge Churchyard._
The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom; And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
_The Last Leaf._
I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer!
_The Last Leaf._
Thou say'st an undisputed thing In such a solemn way.
_To an Insect._
Their discords sting through Burns and Moore, Like hedgehogs dressed in lace.
_The Music-Grinders._
You think they are crusaders sent From some infernal clime, To pluck the eyes of sentiment And dock the tail of Rhyme, To crack the voice of Melody And break the legs of Time.
_The Music-Grinders._
And since, I never dare to write As funny as I can.
_The Height of the Ridiculous._
When the last reader reads no more.
_The Last Reader._
The freeman casting with unpurchased hand The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.
_Poetry, a Metrical Essay._
'T is the heart's current lends the cup its glow, Whate'er the fountain whence the draught may flow.
_A Sentiment._
Yes, child of suffering, thou mayst well be sure He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!
_A Rhymed Lesson. Urania._
And when you stick on conversation's burrs, Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful _urs_.
_A Rhymed Lesson. Urania._
Thine eye was on the censer, And not the hand that bore it.
_Lines by a Clerk._
Where go the poet's lines? Answer, ye evening tapers! Ye auburn locks, ye golden curls, Speak from your folded papers!
_The Poet's Lot._
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!
_The Voiceless._
O hearts that break and give no sign Save whitening lip and fading tresses!
_The Voiceless._
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
_The Chambered Nautilus._
His home! the Western giant smiles, And twirls the spotty globe to find it; This little speck, the British Isles? 'T is but a freckle,--never mind it.
_A Good Time going._
But Memory blushes at the sneer, And Honor turns with frown defiant, And Freedom, leaning on her spear, Laughs louder than the laughing giant.
_A Good Time going._
You hear that boy laughing?--you think he 's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done; The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all.
_The Boys._
Good to the heels the well-worn slipper feels When the tired player shuffles off the buskin; A page of Hood may do a fellow good After a scolding from Carlyle or Ruskin.
_How not to settle it._
A thought is often original, though you have uttered it a hundred times.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i._
People that make puns are like wanton boys that put coppers on the railroad tracks.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i._
Everybody likes and respects self-made men. It is a great deal better to be made in that way than not to be made at all.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i._
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
There is that glorious epicurean paradox uttered by my friend the historian,[637-1] in one of his flashing moments: "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries." To this must certainly be added that other saying of one of the wittiest of men:[638-1] "Good Americans when they die go to Paris."
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
Boston State-house is the hub of the solar system. You could n't pry that out of a Boston man if you had the tire of all creation straightened out for a crow-bar.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
Knowledge and timber should n't be much used till they are seasoned.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. vi._
The hat is the _ultimum moriens_ of respectability.
_The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. viii._
To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.
_On the Seventieth Birthday of Julia Ward Howe_ (_May 27, 1889_).
FOOTNOTES:
[637-1] John Lothrop Motley.
Said Scopas of Thessaly, "We rich men count our felicity and happiness to lie in these superfluities, and not in those necessary things."--PLUTARCH: _On the Love of Wealth._
[638-1] Thomas G. Appleton.
ROBERT C. WINTHROP. 1809- ----.
Our Country,--whether bounded by the St. John's and the Sabine, or however otherwise bounded or described, and be the measurements more or less,--still our Country, to be cherished in all our hearts, to be defended by all our hands.
_Toast at Faneuil Hall on the Fourth of July, 1845._
A star for every State, and a State for every star.
_Address on Boston Common in 1862._
There are no points of the compass on the chart of true patriotism.
_Letter to Boston Commercial Club in 1879._
The poor must be wisely visited and liberally cared for, so that mendicity shall not be tempted into mendacity, nor want exasperated into crime.
_Yorktown Oration in 1881._
Slavery is but half abolished, emancipation is but half completed, while millions of freemen with votes in their hands are left without education. Justice to them, the welfare of the States in which they live, the safety of the whole Republic, the dignity of the elective franchise,--all alike demand that the still remaining bonds of ignorance shall be unloosed and broken, and the minds as well as the bodies of the emancipated go free.
_Yorktown Oration in 1881._
JAMES ALDRICH. 1810-1856.
Her suffering ended with the day, Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away In statue-like repose.
_A Death-Bed._
But when the sun in all his state Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through Glory's morning-gate, And walked in Paradise.
_A Death-Bed._
THEODORE PARKER. 1810-1860.
There is what I call the American idea. . . . This idea demands, as the proximate organization thereof, a democracy,--that is, a government of all the people, by all the people, for all the people; of course, a government of the principles of eternal justice, the unchanging law of God. For shortness' sake I will call it the idea of Freedom.[639-1]
_Speech at the N. E. Antislavery Convention, Boston, May 29, 1850._
FOOTNOTES:
[639-1] See Daniel Webster, page 532.
EDMUND H. SEARS. 1810-1876.
Calm on the listening ear of night Come Heaven's melodious strains, Where wild Judea stretches far Her silver-mantled plains.
_Christmas Song._
It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old.
_The Angels' Song._
MARTIN F. TUPPER. 1810-1889.
A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure.
_Of Education._
God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love.
_Of Immortality._
EDGAR A. POE. 1811-1849.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,-- Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
_The Raven._
Whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster.
_The Raven._
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
_The Raven._
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted--Nevermore!
_The Raven._
To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
_To Helen._
WENDELL PHILLIPS. 1811-1884.
Revolutions are not made; they come.
_Speech, Jan. 28, 1852._
What the Puritans gave the world was not thought, but action.
_Speech, Dec. 21, 1855._
One on God's side is a majority.
_Speech, Nov. 1, 1859._
Every man meets his Waterloo at last.
_Speech, Nov. 1, 1859._
Revolutions never go backward.
_Speech, Feb. 12, 1861._
FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE. 1811- ----.
A sacred burden is this life ye bear: Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly, Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly. Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.
_Lines addressed to the Young Gentlemen leaving the Lenox Academy, Mass._
Better trust all, and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart, that if believed Had blessed one's life with true believing.
_Faith._
BARTHOLOMEW DOWLING.
Ho! stand to your glasses steady! 'T is all we have left to prize. A cup to the dead already,-- Hurrah for the next that dies![641-1]
_Revelry in India._
FOOTNOTES:
[641-1] This quatrain appears with variations in several stanzas. "The poem," says Mr. Rossiter Johnson in "Famous Single and Fugitive Poems," "is persistently attributed to Alfred Domett; but in a letter to me, Feb. 6, 1879, he says: 'I did not write that poem, and was never in India in my life. I am as ignorant of the authorship as you can be.'"
ALFRED DOMETT. 1811- ----.
It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars, Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove, and Mars Held undisturbed their ancient reign In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago.
_Christmas Hymn._
JULIA A. FLETCHER (NOW MRS. CARNEY).
Little drops of water, little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land. So the little minutes, humble though they be, Make the mighty ages of eternity.
_Little Things, 1845._
Little deeds of kindness, little words of love, Help to make earth happy like the heaven above.
_Little Things, 1845._
AUSTEN H. LAYARD. ---- -1894.
I have always believed that success would be the inevitable result if the two services, the army and the navy, had fair play, and if we sent the right man to fill the right place.[642-1]
_Speech in Parliament, Jan. 15, 1855._[642-2]
FOOTNOTES:
[642-1] See Sydney Smith, page 461.
[642-2] This speech is reported in Hansard's Parliamentary Debates, Third Series, vol. cxxxviii. p. 2077.
ROBERT BROWNING. 1812-1890.
Any nose May ravage with impunity a rose.
_Sordello. Book vi._
That we devote ourselves to God, is seen In living just as though no God there were.
_Paracelsus. Part i._
Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart.
_Paracelsus. Part i._
I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,--what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
_Paracelsus. Part i._
Are there not, dear Michal, Two points in the adventure of the diver,-- One, when a beggar he prepares to plunge; One, when a prince he rises with his pearl? Festus, I plunge.
_Paracelsus. Part i._
God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.
_Paracelsus. Part ii._
The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung To their first fault, and withered in their pride.
_Paracelsus. Part iv._
I give the fight up: let there be an end, A privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
_Paracelsus. Part v._
Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.
_Paracelsus. Part v._
Say not "a small event!" Why "small"? Costs it more pain that this ye call A "great event" should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed!
_Pippa Passes. Introduction._
God 's in his heaven: All 's right with the world.
_Pippa Passes. Part i._
Some unsuspected isle in the far seas,-- Some unsuspected isle in far-off seas.
_Pippa Passes. Part ii._
In the morning of the world, When earth was nigher heaven than now.
_Pippa Passes. Part iii._
All service ranks the same with God,-- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.
_Pippa Passes. Part iv._
I trust in Nature for the stable laws Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant And Autumn garner to the end of time. I trust in God,--the right shall be the right And other than the wrong, while he endures. I trust in my own soul, that can perceive The outward and the inward,--Nature's good And God's.
_A Soul's Tragedy. Act i._
Ever judge of men by their professions. For though the bright moment of promising is but a moment, and cannot be prolonged, yet if sincere in its moment's extravagant goodness, why, trust it, and know the man by it, I say,--not by his performance; which is half the world's work, interfere as the world needs must with its accidents and circumstances: the profession was purely the man's own. I judge people by what they might be,--not are, nor will be.
_A Soul's Tragedy. Act ii._
There 's a woman like a dewdrop, she 's so purer than the purest.
_A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. Act i. Sc. iii._
When is man strong until he feels alone?
_Colombe's Birthday. Act iii._
When the fight begins within himself, A man 's worth something.
_Men and Women. Bishop Blougram's Apology._
The sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
_Cleon._
And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again.
_Cleon._
Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And AEschylus, because we read his plays!
_Cleon._
Rafael made a century of sonnets.
_One Word More. ii._
Other heights in other lives, God willing.
_One Word More. xii._
God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides,--one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her!
_One Word More. xvii._
Oh their Rafael of the dear Madonnas, Oh their Dante of the dread Inferno, Wrote one song--and in my brain I sing it; Drew one angel--borne, see, on my bosom!
_One Word More. xix._
The lie was dead And damned, and truth stood up instead.
_Count Gismond. xiii._
Over my head his arm he flung Against the world.
_Count Gismond. xix._
Just my vengeance complete, The man sprang to his feet, Stood erect, caught at God's skirts, and prayed! So, I was afraid!
_Instans Tyrannus. vii._
Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
_Waring. ii._
Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride.
_The last Ride together. vii._
When the liquor 's out, why clink the cannikin?
_The Flight of the Duchess. xvi._
That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it; This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. That low man goes on adding one to one,-- His hundred 's soon hit; This high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit. That has the world here--should he need the next, Let the world mind him! This throws himself on God, and unperplexed Seeking shall find him.
_A Grammarian's Funeral._
Lofty designs must close in like effects.
_A Grammarian's Funeral._
I hear you reproach, "But delay was best, For their end was a crime." Oh, a crime will do As well, I reply, to serve for a test As a virtue golden through and through, Sufficient to vindicate itself And prove its worth at a moment's view! . . . . . . Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will! The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin; And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost Is--the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.
_The Statue and the Bust._
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
_Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came. xxxiii._
Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
_The Lost Leader. i._
We shall march prospering,--not thro' his presence; Songs may inspirit us,--not from his lyre; Deeds will be done,--while he boasts his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire.
_The Lost Leader. ii._
They are perfect; how else?--they shall never change: We are faulty; why not?--we have time in store.
_Old Pictures in Florence. xvi._
What 's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth we shall practise in heaven; Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes.
_Old Pictures in Florence. xvii._
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.'"
_De Gustibus. ii._
That 's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture.
_Home-Thoughts from Abroad. ii._
God made all the creatures, and gave them our love and our fear, To give sign we and they are his children, one family here.
_Saul. vi._
How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
_Saul. ix._
'T is not what man does which exalts him, but what man would do.
_Saul. xvii._
O woman-country![647-1] wooed not wed, Loved all the more by earth's male-lands, Laid to their hearts instead.
_By the Fireside. vi._
That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.
_By the Fireside. xxiii._
If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
_By the Fireside. xlvi._
Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.
_Two in the Campagna. xii._
Round and round, like a dance of snow In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go Floating the women faded for ages, Sculptured in stone on the poet's pages.
_Women and Roses._
How he lies in his rights of a man! Death has done all death can. And absorbed in the new life he leads, He recks not, he heeds Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike On his senses alike, And are lost in the solemn and strange Surprise of the change.
_After._
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!
_Memorabilia. i._
He who did well in war just earns the right To begin doing well in peace.
_Luria. Act ii._
And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,--comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable.
_Luria. Act v._
A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one; And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all.
_Luria. Act v._
I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.
_In a Balcony._
Was there nought better than to enjoy? No feat which, done, would make time break, And let us pent-up creatures through Into eternity, our due? No forcing earth teach heaven's employ?
_Dis Aliter Visum; or, Le Byron de nos Jours._
There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
_Abt Vogler. ix._
Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
_Rabbi Ben Ezra._
What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me.
_Rabbi Ben Ezra._
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure.
_Rabbi Ben Ezra._
For life, with all it yields of joy and woe, And hope and fear (believe the aged friend), Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love,-- How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.
_A Death in the Desert._
The body sprang At once to the height, and stayed; but the soul,--no!
_A Death in the Desert._
What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.
_A Death in the Desert._
For I say this is death and the sole death,-- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.
_A Death in the Desert._
Progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts: God is, they are; Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
_A Death in the Desert._
The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
_A Death in the Desert._
How sad and bad and mad it was! But then, how it was sweet!
_Confessions. ix._
So may a glory from defect arise.
_Deaf and Dumb._
This could but have happened once,-- And we missed it, lost it forever.
_Youth and Art. xvii._
Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face. . . . . . . . No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old; Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold.
_Prospice._
It 's wiser being good than bad; It 's safer being meek than fierce; It 's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That after Last returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched; That what began best can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once prove accurst.
_Apparent Failure. vii._
In the great right of an excessive wrong.
_The Ring and the Book. The other Half-Rome. Line 1055._
Was never evening yet But seemed far beautifuller than its day.
_The Ring and the Book. Pompilia. Line 357._
The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness.
_The Ring and the Book. The Pope. Line 590._
Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
_The Ring and the Book. The Pope. Line 1073._
Why comes temptation, but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
_The Ring and the Book. The Pope. Line 1185._
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good Compensate bad in man, absolve him so: Life's business being just the terrible choice.
_The Ring and the Book. The Pope. Line 1236._
It is the glory and good of Art That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth,--to mouths like mine, at least.
_The Book and the Ring. The Pope. Line 842._
Thy[651-1] rare gold ring of verse (the poet praised) Linking our England to his Italy.
_The Ring and the Book. The Pope. Line 873._
But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?
_Balaustion's Adventure._
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed,-- As, God be thanked! I do not.
_The Inn Album. iv._
Have you found your life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I 'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.
_At the "Mermaid." Stanza 10._
"With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart"[652-1] once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!
_House. x._
God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.[652-2]
_Cenciaja._
FOOTNOTES:
[647-1] Italy.
[651-1] Mrs. Browning.
[652-1] See Wordsworth, page 485.
[652-2] See Herbert, page 206.
CHARLES DICKENS. 1812-1870.
A demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body!
_Nicholas Nickleby. Chap. xxxiv._
My life is one demd horrid grind.
_Nicholas Nickleby. Chap. lxiv._
In a Pickwickian sense.
_Pickwick Papers. Chap. i._
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.
_Pickwick Papers. Chap. vi._
He 's tough, ma'am,--tough is J. B.; tough and devilish sly.
_Dombey and Son. Chap. vii._
When found, make a note of.
_Dombey and Son. Chap. xv._
The bearings of this observation lays in the application on it.
_Dombey and Son. Chap. xxiii._
Barkis is willin'.
_David Copperfield. Chap. v._
Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism, all very good words for the lips,--especially prunes and prism.
_Little Dorrit. Book ii. Chap. v._
Whatever was required to be done, the Circumlocution Office was beforehand with all the public departments in the art of perceiving HOW NOT TO DO IT.
_Little Dorrit. Book ii. Chap. x._
In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile.
_Christmas Carol. Stave 2._
CHRISTOPHER P. CRANCH. 1813- ----.
Thought is deeper than all speech, Feeling deeper than all thought; Souls to souls can never teach What unto themselves was taught.
_Stanzas._
We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen.
_Stanzas._
F. W. FABER. 1814-1863.
For right is right, since God is God,[653-1] And right the day must win; To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin.
_The Right must win._
Labour itself is but a sorrowful song, The protest of the weak against the strong.
_The Sorrowful World._
FOOTNOTES:
[653-1] See Crabbe, page 444.
CHARLES MACKAY. 1814- ----.
Cleon hath a million acres,--ne'er a one have I; Cleon dwelleth in a palace,--in a cottage I.
_Cleon and I._
But the sunshine aye shall light the sky, As round and round we run; And the truth shall ever come uppermost, And justice shall be done.
_Eternal Justice. Stanza 4._
Aid the dawning, tongue and pen; Aid it, hopes of honest men!
_Clear the Way._
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam, Where the shrill winds whistle free.
_Some love to roam._
There 's a good time coming, boys! A good time coming.
_The Good Time coming._
Old Tubal Cain was a man of might In the days when earth was young.
_Tubal Cain._
ELLEN STURGIS HOOPER. 1816-1841.
I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty; I woke, and found that life was Duty. Was thy dream then a shadowy lie? Toil on, poor heart, unceasingly; And thou shalt find thy dream to be A truth and noonday light to thee.
_Life a Duty._
PHILIP JAMES BAILEY. 1816- ----.
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best. Life 's but a means unto an end; that end Beginning, mean, and end to all things,--God.
_Festus. Scene, A Country Town._
Poets are all who love, who feel great truths, And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
_Scene, Another and a Better World._
America! half-brother of the world! With something good and bad of every land.
_Scene, The Surface._
ELIZA COOK. 1817- ----.
I love it, I love it, and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
_The Old Arm-Chair._
How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start When memory plays an old tune on the heart!
_Old Dobbin._
NATHANIEL P. WILLIS. 1817-1867.
At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the city.[655-1]
_Necessity for a Promenade Drive._
For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart, And makes his pulses fly, To catch the thrill of a happy voice And the light of a pleasant eye.
_Saturday Afternoon._
It is the month of June, The month of leaves and roses, When pleasant sights salute the eyes, And pleasant scents the noses.
_The Month of June._
Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him! Not for him who, departing, leaves millions in tears! Not for him who has died full of honor and years! Not for him who ascended Fame's ladder so high From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.
_The Death of Harrison._
FOOTNOTES:
[655-1] See Haliburton, page 580.
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 1817- ----.
I laugh, for hope hath happy place with me; If my bark sinks, 't is to another sea.
_A Poet's Hope._
I sing New England, as she lights her fire In every Prairie's midst; and where the bright Enchanting stars shine pure through Southern night, She still is there, the guardian on the tower, To open for the world a purer hour.
_New England._
Most joyful let the Poet be; It is through him that all men see.
_The Poet of the Old and New Times._
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 1819-1891.
Earth's noblest thing,--a woman perfected.
_Irene._
Be noble! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.
_Sonnet iv._
Great truths are portions of the soul of man; Great souls are portions of eternity.
_Sonnet vi._
To win the secret of a weed's plain heart.
_Sonnet xxv._
Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,-- One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.
_Sonnet xxxiv._ (_Ed. 1844._)
All thoughts that mould the age begin Deep down within the primitive soul.
_An Incident in a Railroad Car._
It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century.
_An Incident in a Railroad Car._
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.
_A Glance behind the Curtain._
They are slaves who fear to speak For the fallen and the weak. . . . . . They are slaves who dare not be In the right with two or three.
_Stanzas on Freedom._
Endurance is the crowning quality, And patience all the passion of great hearts.
_Columbus._
One day with life and heart Is more than time enough to find a world.
_Columbus._
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.
_The Present Crisis._
Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne.
_The Present Crisis._
Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 't is prosperous to be just; Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified.
_The Present Crisis._
Before man made us citizens, great Nature made us men.
_On the Capture of Fugitive Slaves near Washington._
Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold.
_To the Dandelion._
This child is not mine as the first was; I cannot sing it to rest; I cannot lift it up fatherly, And bless it upon my breast.
Yet it lies in my little one's cradle, And sits in my little one's chair, And the light of the heaven she 's gone to Transfigures its golden hair.
_The Changeling._
The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment.
_Longing._
She doeth little kindnesses Which most leave undone, or despise.
_My Love. iv._
Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie; Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, We Sinais climb and know it not.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First._
'T is heaven alone that is given away; 'T is only God may be had for the asking.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First._
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.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First._
Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it; We are happy now because God wills it.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First._
Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First._
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,-- Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
_The Vision of Sir Launfal. Part Second. viii._
There comes Emerson first, whose rich words, every one, Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on.
_A Fable for Critics._
Nature fits all her children with something to do.
_A Fable for Critics._
Ez fer war, I call it murder,-- There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that. . . . . . An' you 've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. i._
Laborin' man an' laborin' woman Hev one glory an' one shame; Ev'y thin' thet 's done inhuman Injers all on 'em the same.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. i._
This goin' ware glory waits ye haint one agreeable feetur.[659-1]
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. ii._
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.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. ii._
We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. iii._
But John P. Robinson, he Sez they did n't know everythin' down in Judee.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. iii._
I _don't_ believe in princerple, But oh I _du_ in interest.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. vi._
Of my merit On thet pint you yourself may jedge; All is, I never drink no sperit, Nor I haint never signed no pledge.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. vii._
Ez to my princerples, I glory In hevin' nothin' o' the sort.
_The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. vii._
Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hender.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin'.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
'T was kin' o' kingdom-come to look On sech a blessed cretur.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity-Zekle.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
All kin' o' smily round the lips, An' teary round the lashes.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
Like streams that keep a summer mind Snow-hid in Jenooary.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin'._
Our Pilgrim stock wuz pithed with hardihood.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. No. vi._
Soft-heartedness, in times like these, Shows sof'ness in the upper story.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. No. vii._
Earth's biggest country 's gut her soul, An' risen up earth's greatest nation.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. No. vii._
Under the yaller pines I house, When sunshine makes 'em all sweet-scented, An' hear among their furry boughs The baskin' west-wind purr contented.
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. No. x._
Wut 's words to them whose faith an' truth On war's red techstone rang true metal; Who ventered life an' love an' youth For the gret prize o' death in battle?
_The Biglow Papers. Second Series. No. x._
From lower to the higher next, Not to the top, is Nature's text; And embryo Good, to reach full stature, Absorbs the Evil in its nature.
_Festina Lente. Moral._
Though old the thought and oft exprest, 'T is his at last who says it best.[660-1]
_For an Autograph._
Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote.
_Ode at the Harvard Commemoration, July 21, 1865._
Here was a type of the true elder race, And one of Plutarch's men talked with us face to face.
_Ode at the Harvard Commemoration, July 21, 1865._
Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past.
_The Cathedral._
The one thing finished in this hasty world.
_The Cathedral._
These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were bred, Each softly lucent as a rounded moon; The diver Omar plucked them from their bed, Fitzgerald strung them on an English thread.
_In a copy of Omar Khayyam._
The clear, sweet singer with the crown of snow Not whiter than the thoughts that housed below.
_To George William Curtis._
But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet Lessen like sound of friends' departing feet; And Death is beautiful as feet of friend Coming with welcome at our journey's end. For me Fate gave, whate'er she else denied, A nature sloping to the southern side; I thank her for it, though when clouds arise Such natures double-darken gloomy skies.
_To George William Curtis._
In life's small things be resolute and great To keep thy muscle trained: know'st thou when Fate Thy measure takes, or when she 'll say to thee, "I find thee worthy; do this deed for me"?
_Epigram._
In vain we call old notions fudge, And bend our conscience to our dealing; The Ten Commandments will not budge, And stealing will continue stealing.
_Motto of the American Copyright League_ (written Nov. 20, 1885).
Solitude is as needful to the imagination as society is wholesome for the character.
_Among my Books. First Series. Dryden._
A wise scepticism is the first attribute of a good critic.
_Among my Books. First Series. Shakespeare Once More._
One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.
_Among my Books. First Series. Shakespeare Once More._
Aspiration sees only one side of every question; possession many.
_Among my Books. First Series. New England Two Centuries ago._
Truly there is a tide in the affairs of men; but there is no gulf-stream setting forever in one direction.
_Among my Books. First Series. New England Two Centuries ago._
There is no better ballast for keeping the mind steady on its keel, and saving it from all risk of crankiness, than business.
_Among my Books. First Series. New England Two Centuries ago._
Puritanism, believing itself quick with the seed of religious liberty, laid, without knowing it, the egg of democracy.
_Among my Books. First Series. New England Two Centuries ago._
It was in making education not only common to all, but in some sense compulsory on all, that the destiny of the free republics of America was practically settled.
_Among my Books. First Series. New England Two Centuries ago._
Talent is that which is in a man's power; genius is that in whose power a man is.
_Among my Books. First Series. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists._
There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind, no word of genius to which the human heart and soul have not sooner or later responded.
_Among my Books. First Series. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists._
Every man feels instinctively that all the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action.
_Among my Books. First Series. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists._
Sentiment is intellectualized emotion,--emotion precipitated, as it were, in pretty crystals by the fancy.
_Among my Books. First Series. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists._
No man can produce great things who is not thoroughly sincere in dealing with himself.
_Among my Books. First Series. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists._
In all literary history there is no such figure as Dante, no such homogeneousness of life and works, such loyalty to ideas, such sublime irrecognition of the unessential.
_Among my Books. Second Series. Dante._
Whoever can endure unmixed delight, whoever can tolerate music and painting and poetry all in one, whoever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils of the brain be silent for a time, let him read in the "Faery Queen."
_Among my Books. Second Series. Spenser._
The only faith that wears well and holds its color in all weathers, is that which is woven of conviction and set with the sharp mordant of experience.
_My Study Windows. Abraham Lincoln, 1864._
It is by presence of mind in untried emergencies that the native metal of a man is tested.
_My Study Windows. Abraham Lincoln, 1864._
What a sense of security in an old book which Time has criticised for us!
_Library of Old Authors._
There is no good in arguing with the inevitable. The only argument available with an east wind is to put on your overcoat.
_Democracy and Addresses._
Let us be of good cheer, however, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come.
_Democracy and Addresses._
The soil out of which such men as he are made is good to be born on, good to live on, good to die for and to be buried in.
_Garfield._
A great man is made up of qualities that meet or make great occasions.
_Garfield._
It ["The Ancient Mariner"] is marvellous in its mastery over that delightfully fortuitous inconsequence that is the adamantine logic of dreamland.
_Coleridge._
He gives us the very quintessence of perception,--the clearly crystalized precipitation of all that is most precious in the ferment of impression after the impertinent and obtrusive particulars have evaporated from the memory.
_Coleridge._
If I were asked what book is better than a cheap book, I should answer that there is one book better than a cheap book,--and that is a book honestly come by.
_Before the U. S. Senate Committee on Patents, Jan. 29, 1886._
FOOTNOTES:
[659-1] See Moore, page 519.
[660-1] See Emerson, page 604.
CHARLES KINGSLEY. 1819-1875.
O Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, Across the sands o' Dee!
_The Sands of Dee._
Men must work, and women must weep.
_The Three Fishers._
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.
_A Farewell._
The world goes up and the world goes down, And the sunshine follows the rain; And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown Can never come over again.
_Dolcino to Margaret._
ULYSSES S. GRANT. 1822-1885.
No other terms than unconditional and immediate surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your works.
_To Gen. S. B. Buckner, Fort Donelson, Feb. 16, 1862._
I propose to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer.
_Despatch to Washington. Before Spottsylvania Court House, May 11, 1864._
Let us have peace.
_Accepting a Nomination for the Presidency, May 29, 1868._
I know no method to secure the repeal of bad or obnoxious laws so effectual as their strict construction.
_From the Inaugural Address, March 4, 1869._
Let no guilty man escape, if it can be avoided. No personal considerations should stand in the way of performing a duty.
_Indorsement of a Letter relating to the Whiskey Ring, July 29, 1875._
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 1822-1888.
Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask. Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge.
_Shakespeare._
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did too!
_Requiescat._
To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost Which blamed the living man.
_Growing Old._
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?
_Memorial Verses._
Wandering between two worlds,--one dead, The other powerless to be born.
_Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse._
The kings of modern thought are dumb.
_Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse._
_Philistine_ must have originally meant, in the mind of those who invented the nickname, a strong, dogged, unenlightened opponent of the children of the light.
_Essays in Criticism. Heinrich Heine._
There is no better motto which it [culture] can have than these words of Bishop Wilson, "To make reason and the will of God prevail."
_Culture and Anarchy. P. 8._
RUTHERFORD B. HAYES. 1822- ----.
He serves his party best who serves the country best.[665-1]
_Inaugural Address, March 5, 1877._
FOOTNOTES:
[665-1] See Pope, page 339.
LEONARD HEATH.
On a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billows Assail the stern rock, and the loud tempests rave, The hero lies still, while the dew-drooping willows, Like fond weeping mourners, lean over his grave. The lightnings may flash and the loud thunders rattle; He heeds not, he hears not, he 's free from all pain; He sleeps his last sleep, he has fought his last battle; No sound can awake him to glory again![666-1]
_The Grave of Bonaparte._
Yet spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee, But like thine own eagle that soars to the sun Thou springest from bondage and leavest behind thee A name which before thee no mortal hath won. Tho' nations may combat, and war's thunders rattle, No more on thy steed wilt thou sweep o'er the plain: Thou sleep'st thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle, No sound can awake thee to glory again.
_The Grave of Bonaparte._
FOOTNOTES:
[666-1] This song was composed and set to music, about 1842, by Leonard Heath, of Nashua, who died a few years ago.--BELA CHAPIN: _The Poets of New Hampshire, 1883, p. 760._
BAYARD TAYLOR. 1825-1878.
Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold.
_Bedouin Song._
They sang of love, and not of fame; Forgot was Britain's glory; Each heart recall'd a different name, But all sang Annie Lawrie.
_The Song of the Camp._
The bravest are the tenderest,-- The loving are the daring.
_The Song of the Camp._
DINAH M. MULOCK. 1826- ----.
Two hands upon the breast, And labour 's done;[667-1] Two pale feet crossed in rest, The race is won.
_Now and Afterwards._
FOOTNOTES:
[667-1] Two hands upon the breast, and labour is past.--_Russian Proverb._
ALEXANDER SMITH. 1830-1867.
Like a pale martyr in his shirt of fire.
_A Life Drama. Sc. ii._
In winter, when the dismal rain Comes down in slanting lines, And Wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines.
_A Life Drama. Sc. ii._
A poem round and perfect as a star.
_A Life Drama. Sc. ii._
H. F. CHORLEY. 1831-1872.
A song to the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath ruled in the greenwood long!
_The Brave Old Oak._
Then here 's to the oak, the brave old oak, Who stands in his pride alone! And still flourish he a hale green tree When a hundred years are gone!
_The Brave Old Oak._
ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN. 1832- ----.
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight! Make me a child again, just for to-night!
_Rock me to sleep._
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears,-- Toil without recompense, tears all in vain! Take them, and give me my childhood again!
_Rock me to sleep._
BISHOP HENRY C. POTTER. 1835- ----.
We have exchanged the Washingtonian dignity for the Jeffersonian simplicity, which was in truth only another name for the Jacksonian vulgarity.
_Address at the Washington Centennial Service in St. Paul's Chapel, New York, April 30, 1889._
If there be no nobility of descent, all the more indispensable is it that there should be nobility of ascent,--a character in them that bear rule so fine and high and pure that as men come within the circle of its influence they involuntarily pay homage to that which is the one pre-eminent distinction, the royalty of virtue.
_Address at the Washington Centennial Service in St. Paul's Chapel, New York, April 30, 1889._
FRANCIS M. FINCH.
Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Love and tears for the Blue, Tears and love for the Gray.[668-1]
_The Blue and the Gray._
FOOTNOTES:
[668-1] This poem first appeared in the "Atlantic Monthly."
GROVER CLEVELAND. 1837- ----.
After an existence of nearly twenty years of almost innocuous desuetude these laws are brought forth.
_Message, March 1, 1886._
It is a condition which confronts us--not a theory.[669-1]
_Annual Message, 1887._
I have considered the pension list of the republic a roll of honor.
_Veto of Dependent Pension Bill, July 5, 1888._
Party honesty is party expediency.
_Interview in New York Commercial Advertiser, Sept. 19, 1889._
FOOTNOTES:
[669-1] See Disraeli, page 607.
FRANCIS BRET HARTE. 1839- ----.
Which I wish to remark,-- And my language is plain,-- That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar.
_Plain Language from Truthful James._
Ah Sin was his name.
_Plain Language from Truthful James._
With the smile that was childlike and bland.
_Plain Language from Truthful James._
FRANCIS W. BOURDILLON. 1852- ----.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done.
_Light._
MISCELLANEOUS.
It may well wait a century for a reader, as God has waited six thousand years for an observer.
JOHN KEPLER (1571-1630). _Martyrs of Science_ (_Brewster_). _P. 197._
Needle in a bottle of hay.
FIELD (---- -1641): _A Woman's a Weathercock._ (_Reprint, 1612, p. 20._)
He is a fool who thinks by force or skill To turn the current of a woman's will.
SAMUEL TUKE (---- -1673): _Adventures of Five Hours. Act v. Sc. 3._
Laugh and be fat.
JOHN TAYLOR (1580?-1684). Title of a Tract, 1615.
Diamond cut diamond.
JOHN FORD (1586-1639): _The Lover's Melancholy. Act i. Sc. 1._
A liberty to that only which is good, just, and honest.
JOHN WINTHROP (1588-1649): _Life and Letters. Vol. ii. p. 341._
I preached as never sure to preach again, And as a dying man to dying men.
RICHARD BAXTER (1615-1691): _Love breathing Thanks and Praise._
Though this may be play to you, 'T is death to us.
ROGER L' ESTRANGE (1616-1704): _Fables from Several Authors. Fable 398._
And there 's a lust in man no charm can tame Of loudly publishing our neighbour's shame; On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, While virtuous actions are but born and die.
STEPHEN HARVEY (_circa_ 1627): _Juvenal, Satire ix._
May I govern my passion with absolute sway, And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away.
WALTER POPE (1630-1714): _The Old Man's Wish._
When change itself can give no more, 'T is easy to be true.
CHARLES SEDLEY (1639-1701): _Reasons for Constancy._
The real Simon Pure.
SUSANNAH CENTLIVRE (1667-1723): _A bold Stroke for a Wife._
When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on.
GEORGE SEWELL (---- -1726): _The Suicide._
Studious of ease, and fond of humble things.
AMBROSE PHILLIPS (1671-1749): _From Holland to a Friend in England._
My galligaskins, that have long withstood The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts, By time subdued (what will not time subdue!), A horrid chasm disclosed.
JOHN PHILIPS (1676-1708): _The Splendid Shilling. Line 121._
For twelve honest men have decided the cause, Who are judges alike of the facts and the laws.
WILLIAM PULTENEY (1682-1764): _The Honest Jury._
Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean, Where heartsome wi' thee I hae mony days been; For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more, We 'll maybe return to Lochaber no more.
ALLAN RAMSAY (1686-1758): _Lochaber no More._
Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me, and drink as I.
WILLIAM OLDYS (1696-1761): _On a Fly drinking out of a Cup of Ale._
Thus Raleigh, thus immortal Sidney shone (Illustrious names!) in great Eliza's days.
THOMAS EDWARDS (1699-1757): _Canons of Criticism._
One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart Till we meet shall pant for you.
ROBERT DODSLEY (1703-1764): _The Parting Kiss._
A charge to keep I have, A God to glorify; A never dying soul to save, And fit it for the sky.
CHARLES WESLEY: _Christian Fidelity._
Love divine, all love excelling, Joy of heaven to earth come down.
_Divine Love._
Of right and wrong he taught Truths as refined as ever Athens heard; And (strange to tell!) he practised what he preached.
JOHN ARMSTRONG (1709-1779): _The Art of Preserving Health. Book iv. Line 301._
Gentle shepherd, tell me where.
SAMUEL HOWARD (1710-1782).
Pray, Goody, please to moderate the rancour of your tongue! Why flash those sparks of fury from your eyes? Remember, when the judgment 's weak the prejudice is strong.
KANE O'HARA (---- -1782): _Midas. Act i. Sc. 4._
Where passion leads or prudence points the way.
ROBERT LOWTH (1710-1787): _Choice of Hercules, i._
And he that will this health deny, Down among the dead men let him lie.
---- DYER (published in the early part of the reign of George I.).
Each cursed his fate that thus their project crossed; How hard their lot who neither won nor lost!
RICHARD GRAVES (1715-1804): _The Festoon_ (1767).
Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer! List, ye landsmen all, to me; Messmates, hear a brother sailor Sing the dangers of the sea.
GEORGE A. STEVENS (1720-1784): _The Storm._
That man may last, but never lives, Who much receives, but nothing gives; Whom none can love, whom none can thank,-- Creation's blot, creation's blank.
THOMAS GIBBONS (1720-1785): _When Jesus dwelt._
In this awfully stupendous manner, at which Reason stands aghast, and Faith herself is half confounded, was the grace of God to man at length manifested.
RICHARD HURD (1720-1808): _Sermons. Vol. ii. p. 287._
There is such a choice of difficulties that I am myself at a loss how to determine.
JAMES WOLFE (1726-1759): _Despatch to Pitt, Sept. 2, 1759._
Kathleen mavourneen! the grey dawn is breaking, The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.
ANNE CRAWFORD (1734-1801): _Kathleen Mavourneen._
Who can refute a sneer?
WILLIAM PALEY (1743-1805): _Moral Philosophy. Vol. ii. Book v. Chap. 9._
Why should the Devil have all the good tunes?
ROWLAND HILL (1744-1833).
Ho! why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Grey? And why does thy nose look so blue?
THOMAS HOLCROFT (1745-1809): _Gaffer Grey._
Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute.
CHARLES COTESWORTH PINCKNEY (1746-1825),--when Ambassador to the French Republic, 1796.
And ye sall walk in silk attire, And siller hae to spare, Gin ye 'll consent to be his bride, Nor think o' Donald mair.
SUSANNA BLAMIRE (1747-1794): _The Siller Croun._
A glass is good, and a lass is good, And a pipe to smoke in cold weather; The world is good, and the people are good, And we 're all good fellows together.
JOHN O'KEEFE (1747-1833): _Sprigs of Laurel. Act ii. Sc. 1._
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 (1750- ----): _Mary's Dream._
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.
TIMOTHY DWIGHT (1752-1817): _Columbia._
Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, Hope, and comfort from above; Let us each, thy peace possessing, Triumph in redeeming love.
ROBERT HAWKER (1753-1827): _Benediction._
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, Wat ye how she cheated me, As I came o'er the braes of Balloch?
ANNE GRANT (1755-1838): _Roy's Wife._
Bounding billows, cease your motion, Bear me not so swiftly o'er.
MARY ROBINSON (1758-1799): _Bounding Billows._
While Thee I seek, protecting Power, Be my vain wishes stilled; And may this consecrated hour With better hopes be filled.
HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS (1762-1827): _Trust in Providence._
The glory dies not, and the grief is past.
SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES (1762-1837): _Sonnet on the Death of Sir Walter Scott._
Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar.
JOANNA BAILLIE (1762-1857): _Oh swiftly glides the Bonnie Boat._
'T was whisper'd in heaven, 't was mutter'd in hell, And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell; On the confines of earth 't was permitted to rest, And the depths of the ocean its presence confess'd.
CATHERINE M. FANSHAWE (1764-1834): _Enigma. The letter H._
Oh, it 's a snug little island! A right little, tight little island.
THOMAS DIBDIN (1771-1841): _The snug little Island._
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
ROBERT TREAT PAINE (1772-1811): _Adams and Liberty._
They [the blacks] had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.
ROGER B. TANEY (1777-1864): _The Dred Scott Case_ (Howard, Rep. 19, p. 407).
To make a mountain of a mole-hill.
HENRY ELLIS (1777-1869): _Original Letters. Second Series, p. 312._
March to the battle-field, The foe is now before us; Each heart is Freedom's shield, And heaven is shining o'er us.
B. E. O'MEARA (1778-1836): _March to the Battle-Field._
Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong.
STEPHEN DECATUR (1779-1820): _Toast given at Norfolk, April, 1816._
Here shall the Press the People's right maintain, Unaw'd by influence and unbrib'd by gain; Here patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw, Pledg'd to Religion, Liberty, and Law.
JOSEPH STORY (1779-1845): _Motto of the "Salem Register."_ (Life of Story, Vol. i. p. 127.)
Let there be no inscription upon my tomb; let no man write my epitaph: no man can write my epitaph.
ROBERT EMMET (1780-1803): _Speech on his Trial and Conviction for High Treason, September, 1803._
Imitation is the sincerest flattery.
C. C. COLTON (1780-1832): _The Lacon._
Behold how brightly breaks the morning! Though bleak our lot, our hearts are warm.
JAMES KENNEY (1780-1849): _Behold how brightly breaks._
Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, I laugh'd and danc'd and talk'd and sung.
PRINCESS AMELIA (1783-1810).
A sound so fine, there 's nothing lives 'Twixt it and silence.
JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES (1784-1862): _Virginius, Act v. Sc. 2._
We have met the enemy, and they are ours.
OLIVER H. PERRY (1785-1820): _Letter to General Harrison_ (dated "United States Brig Niagara. Off the Western Sisters. Sept. 10, 1813, 4 P. M.").
Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung, Not she denied him with unholy tongue; She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave, Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.
EATON S. BARRETT (1785-1820): _Woman, Part i._ (ed. 1822).
They see nothing wrong in the rule that to the victors belong the spoils of the enemy.
WILLIAM L. MARCY (1786-1857): _Speech in the United States Senate, January, 1832._
Say to the seceded States, "Wayward sisters, depart in peace."
WINFIELD SCOTT (1786-1861): _Letter to W. H. Seward, March 3, 1861._
Rock'd in the cradle of the deep, I lay me down in peace to sleep.
EMMA WILLARD (1787-1870): _The Cradle of the Deep._
Right as a trivet.
R. H. BARHAM (1788-1845): _The Ingoldsby Legends. Auto-da-fe._
My life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But ere the shades of evening close Is scattered on the ground--to die.
RICHARD HENRY WILDE (1789-1847): _My Life is like the Summer Rose._
Grand, gloomy, and peculiar, he sat upon the throne a sceptred hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own originality.
CHARLES PHILLIPS (1789-1859): _The Character of Napoleon._
Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay your golden cushion down; Rise up! come to the window, and gaze with all the town.
JOHN G. LOCKHART (1794-1854): _The Bridal of Andalla._
By the margin of fair Zurich's waters Dwelt a youth, whose fond heart, night and day, For the fairest of fair Zurich's daughters In a dream of love melted away.
CHARLES DANCE (1794-1863): _Fair Zurich's Waters._
I saw two clouds at morning Tinged by the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated on And mingled into one.
JOHN G. C. BRAINARD (1795-1828): _I saw Two Clouds at Morning._
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 (1795-1856): _To Seneca Lake._
What fairy-like music steals over the sea, Entrancing our senses with charmed melody?
MRS. C. B. WILSON (---- -1846): _What Fairy-like Music._
Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other maidens are.
HARTLEY COLERIDGE (1796-1849): _She is not Fair._
I would not live alway: I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.
WILLIAM A. MUHLENBERG (1796-1877): _I would not live alway._
Oh, leave the gay and festive scenes, The halls of dazzling light.
H. S. VANDYK (1798-1828): _The Light Guitar._
If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot.
JOHN A. DIX (1798-1879): _An Official Despatch, Jan. 29, 1861._
I envy them, those monks of old; Their books they read, and their beads they told.
G. P. R. JAMES (1801-1860): _The Monks of Old._
A place in thy memory, dearest, Is all that I claim; To pause and look back when thou hearest The sound of my name.
GERALD GRIFFIN (1803-1840): _A Place in thy Memory._
Sparkling and bright in liquid light Does the wine our goblets gleam in; With hue as red as the rosy bed Which a bee would choose to dream in.
CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN (1806-1884): _Sparkling and Bright._
The very mudsills of society. . . . We call them slaves. . . . But I will not characterize that class at the North with that term; but you have it. It is there, it is everywhere; it is eternal.
JAMES H. HAMMOND (1807-1864): _Speech in the U. S. Senate, March, 1858._
It would be superfluous in me to point out to your Lordship that this is war.
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS (1807-1886): _Despatch to Earl Russell, Sept. 5, 1863._
We are swinging round the circle.
ANDREW JOHNSON (1808-1875): _On the Presidential Reconstruction Tour, August, 1866._
We have been friends together In sunshine and in shade.
CAROLINE E. S. NORTON (1808-1877): _We have been Friends._
All we ask is to be let alone.
JEFFERSON DAVIS (1808-1889): _First Message to the Confederate Congress, March, 1861._
'T is 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 (1808- ----): _Absence conquers Love._
Oh would I were a boy again, When life seemed formed of sunny years, And all the heart then knew of pain Was wept away in transient tears!
MARK LEMON (1809-1870): _Oh would I were a Boy again._
Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toun, Upstairs and dounstairs, in his nicht-goun, Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock, "Are the weans in their bed? for it 's nou ten o'clock."
WILLIAM MILLER (1810-1872): _Willie Winkie._
We are Republicans, and don't propose to leave our party and identify ourselves with the party whose antecedents have been Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion.
SAMUEL D. BURCHARD (1812- ----),--one of the deputation visiting Mr. Blaine, Oct. 29, 1884.
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 (1813-1881): _Life on the Ocean Wave._
What are the wild waves saying, Sister, the whole day long, That ever amid our playing I hear but their low, lone song?
JOSEPH E. CARPENTER (1813- ----): _What are the wild Waves saying?_
Well, General, we have not had many dead cavalrymen lying about lately.
JOSEPH HOOKER (1813-1879): _A remark to General Averill, November, 1862._
Come in the evening, or come in the morning; Come when you 're looked for, or come without warning.
THOMAS O. DAVIS (1814-1845): _The Welcome._
But whether on the scaffold high Or in the battle's van, The fittest place where man can die Is where he dies for man!
MICHAEL J. BARRY (_Circa_ 1815): _The Dublin Nation, Sept. 28, 1844, Vol. ii. p. 809._
Oh the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,-- A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing!
JULIA PARDOE (1816-1862): _The Captive Greek Girl._
Let wealth and commerce, laws and learning die, But leave us still our old nobility.
LORD JOHN MANNERS (1818- ----): _England's Trust. Part iii. Line 227._
Why thus longing, thus forever sighing For the far-off, unattain'd, and dim, While the beautiful all round thee lying Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?
HARRIET W. SEWALL (1819-1889): _Why thus longing?_
Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt? Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown; Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile, And trembl'd with fear at your frown!
THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH (1819- ----): _Ben Bolt._
The Survival of the Fittest.
HERBERT SPENCER (1820- ----): _Principles of Biology, Vol. i. Chap. xii._ (American edition, 1867.)
Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight? Who blushes at the name? When cowards mock the patriot's fate, Who hangs his head for shame?
JOHN K. INGRAM (1820- ----): _The Dublin Nation, April 1, 1843, Vol. ii. p. 339._
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 (1820-1867): _The Bivouac of the Dead._ (August, 1847.)
Hold the fort! I am coming!
WILLIAM T. SHERMAN (1820-1891),--signalled to General Corse in Allatoona from the top of Kenesaw, Oct. 5, 1864.
For every wave with dimpled face That leap'd upon the air, Had caught a star in its embrace And held it trembling there.
AMELIA B. WELBY (1821-1852): _Musings. Stanza 4._
To look up and not down, To look forward and not back, To look out and not in, and To lend a hand.
EDWARD EVERETT HALE (1822- ----): _Rule of the "Harry Wadsworth Club"_ (from "Ten Times One is Ten," 1870).
Listen! John A. Logan is the Head Centre, the Hub, the King Pin, the Main Spring, Mogul, and Mugwump of the final plot by which partisanship was installed in the Commission.
ISAAC H. BROMLEY (1833- ----): _Editorial in the "New York Tribune," Feb. 16, 1877._
A mugwump is a person educated beyond his intellect.
HORACE PORTER (1837- ----), --a _bon-mot_ in the Cleveland-Blaine campaign of 1884.
I never could believe that Providence had sent a few men into the world, ready booted and spurred to ride, and millions ready saddled and bridled to be ridden.
RICHARD RUMBOLD, _on the scaffold, 1685. History of England (Macaulay), Chap. v._
The last link is broken That bound me to thee, And the words thou hast spoken Have render'd me free.
FANNY STEERS: _Song._
Old Simon the cellarer keeps a rare store Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.
G. W. BELLAMY: _Simon the Cellarer._
Babylon in all its desolation is a sight not so awful as that of the human mind in ruins.[682-1]
SCROPE DAVIES: _Letter to Thomas Raikes, May 25, 1835._
She 's all my fancy painted her; She 's lovely, she 's divine.
WILLIAM MEE: _Alice Gray._
Stately and tall he moves in the hall, The chief of a thousand for grace.
KATE FRANKLIN: _Life at Olympus, Lady's Book, Vol. xxiii. p. 33._
When the sun's last rays are fading Into twilight soft and dim.
THEODORE L. BARKER: _Thou wilt think of me again._
Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee And cherish'd thine image for years; Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee, In secret, in silence, and tears.
MRS. (DAVID) PORTER: _Thou hast wounded the Spirit._
Rattle his bones over the stones! He 's only a pauper, whom nobody owns!
THOMAS NOEL: _The Pauper's Ride._
In the days when we went gypsying A long time ago; The lads and lassies in their best Were dress'd from top to toe.
EDWIN RANSFORD: _In the Days when we went Gypsying._
Speak gently! 't is a little thing Dropp'd in the heart's deep well; The good, the joy, that it may bring Eternity shall tell.
G. W. LANGFORD: _Speak gently._
Hope tells a flattering tale,[683-1] Delusive, vain, and hollow. Ah! let not hope prevail, Lest disappointment follow.
MISS ---- WROTHER: _The Universal Songster. Vol. ii. p. 86._
Nose, nose, nose, nose! And who gave thee that jolly red nose? Sinament and Ginger, Nutmegs and Cloves, And that gave me my jolly red nose.
RAVENSCROFT: _Deuteromela, Song No. 7._[683-2] (1609.)
The mother said to her daughter, "Daughter, bid thy daughter tell her daughter that her daughter's daughter hath a daughter."
GEORGE HAKEWILL: _Apologie. Book iii. Chap. v. Sect. 9._[683-3]
Betwixt the stirrup and the ground, Mercy I ask'd; mercy I found.[684-1]
WILLIAM CAMDEN: _Remains._
Begone, dull Care! I prithee begone from me! Begone, dull Care! thou and I shall never agree.
PLAYFORD: _Musical Companion._ (1687.)
Much of a muchness.
VANBRUGH: _The Provoked Husband, Act i. Sc. 1._
Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John, The bed be blest that I lye on.
THOMAS ADY: _A Candle in the Dark, p. 58._ (London, 1656.)
Junius, Aprilis, Septemq; Nouemq; tricenos, Vnum plus reliqui, Februs tenet octo vicenos, At si bissextus fuerit superadditur vnus.
WILLIAM HARRISON: _Description of Britain_ (prefixed to Holinshed's "Chronicle," 1577).
Thirty dayes hath Nouember, Aprill, June, and September, February hath xxviii alone, And all the rest have xxxi.
RICHARD GRAFTON: _Chronicles of England._ (1590.)
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November, February has twenty-eight alone, All the rest have thirty-one; Excepting leap year,--that 's the time When February's days are twenty-nine.
_The Return from Parnassus._ (London, 1606.)
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.
Fourth, eleventh, ninth, and sixth, Thirty days to each affix; Every other thirty-one Except the second month alone.
Common in Chester County, Penn., among the Friends.
"Be of good comfort, Master Ridley," Latimer cried at the crackling of the flames. "Play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out."[685-1]
There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies show; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow. There cherries hang that none may buy, Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
_An Howres Recreation in Musike._ (1606. Set to music by Richard Alison. Oliphant's "La Messa Madrigalesca," p. 229.)
Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row; Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rosebuds filled with snow.
_An Howres Recreation in Musike._ (1606. Set to music by Richard Alison. Oliphant's "La Messa Madrigalesca," p. 229.)
A vest as admired Voltiger had on, Which from this Island's foes his grandsire won, Whose artful colour pass'd the Tyrian dye, Obliged to triumph in this legacy.[685-2]
_The British Princes, p. 96._ (1669.)
When Adam dolve, and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman?
_Lines used by John Ball in Wat Tyler's Rebellion._[685-3]
Now bething the, gentilman, How Adam dalf, and Eve span.[686-1]
_MS. of the Fifteenth Century_ (British Museum).
Use three Physicians,-- Still-first Dr. Quiet; Next Dr. Mery-man, And Dr. Dyet.[686-2]
_Regimen Sanitatis Salernitanum_ (edition of 1607).
The King of France went up the hill With twenty thousand men; The King of France came down the hill, And ne'er went up again.
_Pigges Corantoe, or Newes from the North._[686-3]
* * * * *
_From The New England Primer._[686-4]
In Adam's fall We sinned all.
My Book and Heart Must never part.
Young Obadias, David, Josias,-- All were pious.
Peter denyed His Lord, and cryed.
Young Timothy Learnt sin to fly.
Xerxes did die, And so must I.
Zaccheus he Did climb the tree Our Lord to see.
Our days begin with trouble here, Our life is but a span, And cruel death is always near, So frail a thing is man.
Now I lay me down to take my sleep,[687-1] I pray the Lord my soul to keep; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
His wife, with nine small children and one at the breast, following him to the stake.
_Martyrdom of John Rogers. Burned at Smithfield, Feb. 14, 1554._[687-2]
* * * * *
And shall Trelawny die? Here 's twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why.[687-3]
Mater ait natae, dic natae, natam Ut moneat natae, plangere filiolam.
The mother to her daughter spake: "Daughter," said she, "arise! Thy daughter to her daughter take, Whose daughter's daughter cries."
_A Distich, according to Zwingler, on a Lady of the Dalburg Family who saw her descendants to the sixth generation._
A woman's work, grave sirs, is never done.
_Poem spoken by Mr. Eusden at a Cambridge Commencement._[688-1]
Count that day lost whose low descending sun Views from thy hand no worthy action done.[688-2]
_Author unknown._[688-3]
The gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination, the melancholy madness of poetry without the inspiration.[688-4]
_Letters of Junius. Letter vii. To Sir W. Draper._
I do not give you to posterity as a pattern to imitate, but as an example to deter.
_Letters of Junius. Letter xii. To the Duke of Grafton._
The Americans equally detest the pageantry of a king and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop.[688-5]
_Letters of Junius. Letter xxxv._
The heart to conceive, the understanding to direct, or the hand to execute.[688-6]
_Letters of Junius. Letter xxxvii. City Address, and the King's Answer._
Private credit is wealth; public honour is security. The feather that adorns the royal bird supports its flight; strip him of his plumage, and you fix him to the earth.
_Letters of Junius. Letter xlii. Affair of the Falkland Islands._
'T is well to be merry and wise, 'T is well to be honest and true; 'T is well to be off with the old love Before you are on with the new.
_Lines used by Maturin as the motto to "Bertram," produced at Drury Lane, 1816._
Still so gently o'er me stealing, Mem'ry will bring back the feeling, Spite of all my grief revealing, That I love thee,--that I dearly love thee still.
_Opera of La Sonnambula._
Happy am I; from care I 'm free! Why ar' n't they all contented like me?
_Opera of La Bayadere._
It is so soon that I am done for, I wonder what I was begun for.
_Epitaph on a child who died at the age of three weeks_ (_Cheltenham Churchyard_).
An Austrian army, awfully array'd, Boldly by battery besiege Belgrade; Cossack commanders cannonading come, Deal devastation's dire destructive doom; Ev'ry endeavour engineers essay, For fame, for freedom, fight, fierce furious fray. Gen'rals 'gainst gen'rals grapple,--gracious God! How honors Heav'n heroic hardihood! Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill, Just Jesus, instant innocence instill! Kinsmen kill kinsmen, kindred kindred kill. Labour low levels longest, loftiest lines; Men march 'midst mounds, motes, mountains, murd'rous mines. Now noisy, noxious numbers notice nought, Of outward obstacles o'ercoming ought; Poor patriots perish, persecution's pest! Quite quiet Quakers "Quarter, quarter" quest; Reason returns, religion, right, redounds, Suwarrow stop such sanguinary sounds! Truce to thee, Turkey, terror to thy train! Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine! Vanish vile vengeance, vanish victory vain! Why wish we warfare? wherefore welcome won Xerxes, Xantippus, Xavier, Xenophon? Yield, ye young Yaghier yeomen, yield your yell! Zimmerman's, Zoroaster's, Zeno's zeal Again attract; arts against arms appeal. All, all ambitious aims, avaunt, away! Et caetera, et caetera, et caetera.
_Alliteration, or the Siege of Belgrade: a Rondeau._[690-1]
But were it to my fancy given To rate her charms, I 'd call them heaven; For though a mortal made of clay, Angels must love Ann Hathaway; She hath a way so to control, To rapture the imprisoned soul, And sweetest heaven on earth display, That to be heaven Ann hath a way; She hath a way, Ann Hathaway,-- To be heaven's self Ann hath a way.
_Attributed to Shakespeare._[690-2]
FOOTNOTES:
[682-1] Babylon in ruins is not so melancholy a spectacle (as a distracted person). ADDISON: _Spectator, No. 421._
[683-1] Hope told a flattering tale, That Joy would soon return; Ah! naught my sighs avail, For Love is doomed to mourn.
ANONYMOUS (air by Giovanni Paisiello, 1741-1816): _Universal Songster, vol. i. p. 320._
[683-2] BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _The Knight of the Burning Pestle,