Part 2

59. You are young, and of That mould which throws out heroes; fair in favor, And doubtlessly, with such a form and heart, Would look into the fiery eyes of war.

BYRON--_Werner_.

60. Calm as evening skies Is your pure mind, and lighted up with hopes That open heaven.

THOMSON--_Tancred and Sigismunda_.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER?

LADY.

NEVILL.--Know'st thou how slight a thing a woman is?

SCUDMORE.--Yes; and how serious too.

NATHANIEL FIELD--

_Woman's a Weathercock. A Comedy_.

From Lamb's Specimens of Old Dramatic Poets.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER?

LADY.

1. None know thee but to love thee, None name thee but to praise.

HALLECK.

2. Oh, thou wilt ever be what now thou art, Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring; As fair in form, as warm, yet pure in heart, Love's image upon earth without its sting.

BYRON.

3. Ever o'er thy soul a shadow lies, Still darkest, when life wears the sunniest skies; And even when with bliss thy heart beats high, The swell subsides into a plaintive sigh.

MRS. PIERSON.

4. Sometimes will you laugh, and sometimes cry, Then sudden you wax wroth, and all you know not why.

THOMSON.

5. Thou doest little kindnesses, Which most leave undone or despise; For naught that sets one heart at ease, And giveth happiness or peace, Is low esteemed in thy eyes.

JAMES R. LOWELL.

6. Thou art merry and free, Thou carest for naebody, If naebody care for thee.

BURNS.

7. Women love you, that you are a woman More worth than any man; men, that you are The rarest of all women.

_Winter's Tale._

8. Not only good and kind, But strong and elevated is thy mind; A spirit that with noble pride Can look superior down On fortune's smile or frown; That can, without regret or pain, To virtue's lowest duty sacrifice.

LORD LYTTLETON.

9. At table you are scrupulous withal; No morsel from your lips do you let fall, Nor in your sauce will dip your fingers deep. Well can you carry a morsel, and well keep, That not a drop e'er falls upon your breast. In courtesy your pleasure much doth rest. Your dainty upper lip you wipe so clean, That in your cup there is no farthing seen Of grease, when you have drunk; and for your meat, Full seemly bend you forward on your seat.

CHAUCER.

10. You have a natural, wise sincerity, A simple truthfulness; And though yourself not unacquaint with care, Have in your heart wide room.

JAMES R. LOWELL.

11. What you do Still betters what is done; when you speak, sweet, We'd have you do it ever.

_Winter's Tale._

12. An inward light to guide thee, Unto thy soul is given, Pure and serene as its divine Original in heaven.

JAMES ALDRICH.

13. You have no gift at all in shrewishness, You are a right woman for your cowardice.

_Midsummer Night's Dream._

14. The world has won thee, lady, and thy joys Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys.

CRABBE.

15. Mishap goes o'er thee like a summer cloud; Cares thou hast none, and they who stand to hear thee, Catch the infection and forget their own.

ROGERS--_Italy_.

16. Nature for her favorite child, In thee hath temper'd so her clay, That every hour thy heart runs wild, Yet never once doth go astray.

WORDSWORTH.

17. Your only labor is to kill the time, And labor dire it is, and weary wo; You sit, you loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme, Then rising, sudden to the glass you go.

THOMSON.

18. You will die if ---- love you not; and you will die ere you make your love known; and you will die if he woo you, rather than abate one breath of your crossness.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

19. It cannot bend thy lofty brow, Though friends and foes depart, The car of fate may o'er thee roll, Nor crush thy Roman heart.

MRS. CHILD.

20. You wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all yourself.

_Merry Wives of Windsor._

21. To tend From good to better--thence to best, Grateful you drink life's cup, then bend Unmurmuring to your bed of rest; You pluck the flowers that around you blow, Scattering their fragrance as you go.

BOWRING.

22. Rich in love And sweet humanity, you will be yourself, To the degree that you desire, beloved.

WORDSWORTH.

23. You little care what others do, And where they go, and what they say; Your bliss all inward, and your own, Would only tarnish'd be by being shown. The talking, restless world shall see, Spite of the world, you'll happy be; But none shall know, How much you are so, Save only _Love_.

MRS. BARBAULD.

24. Scared at thy frown, abash'd will fly Self-pleasing folly's idle brood, Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy, And leave thee leisure to be good

GRAY.

25. A happy lot be thine, and larger light Await thee there;--for thou hast bow'd thy will In cheerful homage to the rule of right, And lovest all, and doest good for ill.

BRYANT.

26. In you are youth, beauty, and humble port, Bounty, richesse, and womanly feature; God better knows than my pen can report, Wisdom, largesse, estate and cunning sure. In every point so guided is your measure, In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, That nature could no more her child advance.

_King James I._

27. You do incline to sadness, and oft-times Not knowing why.

_Cymbaline._

28. You are a riddle, Which he who solved the sphinx's would die guessing!

JOHN TOBIN.

29. You have train'd your spirit to forgive, As you hope to be forgiven; And you live on earth as they should live Whose hopes and home are heaven.

BOWRING.

30. A reasonable woman; Fair without vanity, rich without pride, Discreet though witty, learned yet very humble.

JOHN TOBIN.

31. There's little of the melancholy in you; you are never sad but when you sleep, and not even sad then; for I have heard that you often dream of mischief, and wake yourself with laughing.

_Much Ado About Nothing._

32. Like a summer storm awhile you're cloudy, Burst out in thunder and impetuous showers, But straight the sun of beauty dawns abroad, And all the fair horizon is serene.

NICHOLAS ROWE.

33. Think not the good, The gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done Shall die forgotten all; the poor, the prisoner, The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow, Who daily own the bounty of thy hand, Shall cry to heaven and pull a blessing on thee.

GEORGE LILLO.

34. A friend to the hen-coop you often are found; When the rat or the weasel are prowling around, Or chick become motherless strays from the wing, A mother are you to the motherless thing.

MARIA JAMES.

35. A' the day you spier what news kind neibor bodies bring.

MOTHERWELL.

36. Innocence and virgin modesty, A virtue and a consciousness of worth That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won.

MILTON--_Paradise Lost_.

37. It is your pleasure sweetly to complain, And to be taken with a sudden pain; Then up you start, all ecstasy and bliss, And are, sweet soul, just as sincere in this. Oh, how you roll your charming eyes in spite, And look delightfully with all your might.

DR. YOUNG--_Love of Fame_.

38. Gracious to all; but where your love is due So fast, so faithful, loyal, just, and true, That a bold hand as soon might hope to force The rolling light of heaven, as stay your course.

WALLER.

39. Thou medley of contraries! We trust thee, yet we doubt thee, Our darkness and our light; Night would be day without thee, And day, without thee, night.

JUDGE CHARLTON.

40. You are a soul so white and so chaste, As nothing called foul Dares approach with a blot, Or any least spot; But still you control Or make your own lot, Preserving love pure as it first was begot.

BEN JONSON.

41. The power you wield has its best spells in love, And gentleness, and thought; never in scorn, Or any wayward impulse or caprice.

W. G. SIMMS.

42. You love to listen better than to talk, And, rather than be gadding, would sit quiet;-- Hate cards, and cordials.

TOBIN.

43. You do not love As _men_ love, who love often. Yours has been A single sentiment for one alone, An all-engrossing passion, which doth live On hope and faith.

ELIZABETH BOGART.

44. Thou talkest well, but talking is thy privilege; 'Tis all the boasted courage of thy sex.

NICHOLAS ROWE--_Tamerlane_.

45. Thoughts go sporting through your mind Like children among flowers, And deeds of gentle goodness are The measure of your hours. In soul or face you bear no trace Of one from Eden driven, But, like the rainbow, seem, though born Of earth, a part of heaven!

GEORGE HILL.

46. All things thou art by turns, from wrath to love, From the queen eagle, to the vestal dove.

BARRY CORNWALL.

47. You've turn'd up your nose at the short, And cast down your eyes at the tall; But then you just did it in sport, And now you've no lover at all.

G. P. MORRIS.

48. Alive to feel and curious to explore Each distant object of refined distress.

WHITEHEAD--_Roman Father_.

49. You have a soul Of god-like mould, intrepid and commanding: But you have passions which outstrip the wind, And tear your virtues up.

CONGREVE--_Mourning Bride_.

50. There's not a lovely transient thing But brings thee to our mind! The rainbow, or the fragile flower, Sweet summer's fading joys, The waning moon, the dying day, The passing glories of the clouds, The leaf that brightens as it falls, The wild tones of the Æolian harp, All tell some touching tale of thee; There's not a tender lovely thing But brings thee to our mind.

MRS. FOLLEN.

51. 'Tis not your part, Out of your fond misgivings, to perplex The fortunes of the man to whom you cleave; 'Tis yours to weave all that you have of fair And bright, in the dark meshes of their web.

TALFOURD--_Ion_.

52. In our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please; When pain and sickness rend the brow, A ministering angel thou.

SCOTT.

53. Ever art thou fair, Ev'n in the city's gaudy tumult, fair; Yet he who marks thee only as the charm And worship of gay crowds, in festive halls, Knows but thy living image, not thy soul, Joyless in that cold pomp.

DR. BROWN--_Bower of Spring_.

54. Thine is the heart that is gentle and kind, And light as the feather that sports in the wind.

HOGG--_Queen's Wake_.

55. Your person is a paradise, and your soul the cherub to guard it.

DRYDEN.

56. Your two red lips _affected_ zephyrs blow, To cool the Hyson, and inflame the beau; While one white finger and a thumb conspire To lift the cup, and make the world admire.

YOUNG.

57. More than a sermon love you the touch'd string, You love to tinkling tunes your feet to fling.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

58. Coquet and coy at once your air, Both studied, though both seem neglected; Careless you are with artful care, Affecting to seem unaffected.

CONGREVE.

59. Your sweet humor Is easy as a calm, and peaceful too. All your affections like the dew on roses,-- Fair as the flowers themselves, as sweet and gentle.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--_The Pilgrim_.

60. Grateful we find you, patient of control; A most bewitching gentleness of soul Makes pleasure of what work you have to do.

BLOOMFIELD--_The Miller's Maid_.

WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF YOUR LADY-LOVE?

Must you have my picture? You will enjoin me to a strange punishment. With what a compell'd face a woman sits While she is drawing! I have noted divers Either to fain smiles, or suck in the lips, To have a little mouth; ruffle the cheeks, To have the dimple seen; and so disorder The face with affectation, at next sitting It has not been the same. --But indeed If ever I would have mine drawn to the life, I would have a painter steal it at such a time I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers; There is then a heavenly beauty in't, the _soul_ Moves in the superficies.

JOHN WEBSTER-- _The Devil's Law Case. A Tragi-Comedy._ From Lamb's Specimens of Dramatic Poets.

WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF YOUR LADY-LOVE?

1. Her eyes are shadowy, full of thought and prayer, And with long lashes o'er a white rose cheek Drooping.

MRS. HEMANS.

2. A thing all lightness, life, and glee, One of the shapes we seem To meet in visions of the night, And should they greet our waking sight, Imagine that we dream.

GEORGE HILL.

3. A lovelier nymph the pencil never drew; For the fond Graces form'd her easy mien, And heaven's soft azure in her eye is seen. She seems a rose-bud when it first receives The genial sun in its expanding leaves.

HAYLEY--_Triumphs of Temper_.

4. Eyes As tender as the blue of weeping skies, Yet sunny in their radiance as that blue, When sunset glitters on its falling dew.

JOHN NEAL.

5. She bends beneath the weight of dress, The stiffen'd robes, which spoil her easy mien, And art mistaken makes her beauty less, While still it hides some beauties better seen.

HAMMOND--_Love Elegies_.

6. There is a sweetness in her upturn'd eyes, A tearful lustre, such as fancy lends To the Madonna, and a soft surprise, As if they found strange beauty in the air.

PARK BENJAMIN.

7. Her soft, clear eyes, deep in their tenderness, Reflect all beautiful and kindly things. She would seem infantile, but that her brow In lilied majesty uptowers, and tells That lofty thoughts and chasten'd pride are there.

MRS. GILMAN.

8. Oh, the words Laugh on her lips; the motion of her smiles Showers beauty, as the air-caressed spray The dews of morning; and her stately steps Are light, as though a winged angel trod Over earth's flowers, and fear'd to brush away Their delicate hues.

MILMAN--_Fazio_.

9. She has ane e'e, she has but ane, The cat has twa the very color; Five rusty teeth forbye a stump, A clapper tongue would deave a miller.

BURNS.

10. She lacks the beauty of a "damask skin," But there are roses lying near at hand, To spring unto her cheek; oft from within They come, called up at feeling's high command, And on the glowing surface long remain.

MRS. M. S. B. DANA.

11. If on her we see display'd Pendent gems, and rich brocade, If her chintz with less expense Flows in easy negligence, If she strikes the vocal strings, If she's silent, speaks, or sings, If she sit, or if she move, Still we love and we approve.

DR. JOHNSON.

12. Her laugh is like a fairy's laugh, So musical and sweet; Her foot is like a fairy's foot, So dainty and so fleet. Her smile is fitful sunshine, Her hand is dimpled snow, Her lip a very rose-bud In sweetness and in glow.

MRS. OSGOOD.

13. A thoughtful and a quiet grace, Though happy still;--yet chance distress Hath left a pensive loveliness; Fancy hath tamed her fairy gleams, And her heart broods o'er home-born dreams.

WILSON.

14. Her swollen eyes are much disfigured, And her faire face with tears Is foully blubbered.

SPENSER.

15. A downcast eye, repentant of the pain That its mild light creates.

KEATS.

16. Not fairer grows the lily of the vale, Whose bosom opens to the vernal gale; While health that rises with the new-born day, Breathes o'er her cheek the softest blush of May.

FALCONER--_Shipwreck_.

17. Fairest where all is beautiful and bright! With what a grace she glides among the flowers That smile around her, bowing at her touch.

GALLAGHER.

18. On her cheek an autumn flush Deeply ripens;--such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Around her eyes her tresses lay, Which are blackest, none can say; But long lashes veil a light, That had else been all too bright.

HOOD.

19. Ne in her speach, ne in her haviour Is lightnesse seene, or looser vanitie; But gratious womanhood and gravitie, Above the reason of her youthly yeares. Her golden locks she roundly doth uptye, In braided trammels, that ne looser heares Do out of order stray about her daintie eares.

SPENSER.

20. A silver line, that from the brow to the crown, And in the middle, parts the braided hair, Just serves to show how delicate a soil The golden harvest grows in; while those eyes, Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky, Whose azure depth their colour emulates, Must needs be conversant with upward looks, Prayer's voiceless service.

WORDSWORTH.

21. Half the charms that deck her face, Arise from powder, shreds, and lace.

GOLDSMITH.

22. Time from her form has ta'en away but little of its grace, His touch of thought hath dignified the beauty of her face.

BAYLEY.

23. 'Tis strange, That though you study long, you cannot tell The color of her eye, that seems to change, Beneath the ivory lid, from brilliant black To liquid hazel, then to full soft gray, Fast melting into violet.

MISS M. E. LEE.

24. Her face is heaven's bow in showers. Her dark hair flows round it like streaming clouds.

OSSIAN.

25. She has an innocently downcast look, And when she raises up her eyes of blue, It seems as if her features were a book, Where sweet affection letters love for you.

RUFUS DAWES.

26. Indeed she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess.

_Troilus and Cressida._

27. I never saw a crowned queen, With such a noble air, So angel-like, so womanly, As is your lady fair.

MARY HOWITT.

28. Around her playful lips do glitter Heat lightnings of a girlish scorn, Harmless they are, for nothing bitter In that dear heart was ever born. That merry heart, that cannot lie Within its warm nest quietly, But ever from the full dark eye Is looking kindly, night and morn.

J. R. LOWELL.

29. Oh, her glance is the brightest that ever has shone, And the lustre of love's on her cheek; But all the bewildering enchantment is gone The moment you hear her speak.

MRS. ELLET.

30. The rose, with faint and feeble streak, So slightly marks the maiden's cheek, That you would say her hue is pale; But if she face the Southern gale, Or speaks, or sings, or quicker moves, Or hears the praise of those she loves, Or when of interest is express'd Aught that wakes feeling in her breast, The mantling blood in ready play Rivals the blush of opening day.

SCOTT--_Rokeby_.

31. She dresses aye sae clean and neat, Both decent and genteel; And then there's something in her gait Gars ony dress look weel.

BURNS.

32. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

BYRON.

33. Eyes of the gray, The soft gray of the brooding dove, Full of the sweet and tender ray Of holy love.

MRS. NORTON.

34. I saw her hand--she has a leathern hand, A freestone color'd hand. I verily did think That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hand; She has a housewife's hand!

_As You Like It._

35. The fashion of her gracefulness is not a follow'd rule, And her effervescent sprightliness was never taught at school; Her words are all peculiar, like the fairy's that spoke pearls, And her tone is ever sweetest 'mid the cadences of girls.

WILLIS.

36. There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; Nay, her foot speaks.

_Troilus and Cressida._

37. She has that changing color on the cheek, Which speaks the heart so well; those deep blue eyes, Like summer's darkest sky, yet not so glad; They are too passionate for happiness.

MISS LANDON.

38. There is a light around her brow, A holiness in those dark eyes, Which show, though wandering earthward now, Her spirit's home is in the skies.

MOORE.

39. A still, sweet, placid, moonlight face, And slightly nonchalant, Which seems to hold a middle place Between one's love and aunt. Where childhood's star has left a ray In woman's summer sky, As morning's dew and blushing day On fruit and blossom lie.

O. W. HOLMES.

40. A bright, frank brow, that has not learn'd to blush at gaze of man.

MACAULAY--_Lays of Ancient Rome_.

41. If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face, and you'll forget them all.

HAYLEY--_Triumphs of Temper_.

42. Quips, and cranks, and playful wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek.

MILTON--_Comus_.

43. Excellently done, if God did all.

_Twelfth Night._

44. A ruby lip First dawns; then glows the young cheek's deeper hue, Yet delicate as roses when they dip Their odorous blossoms in the morning dew. Then beam the eyes, twin stars of living blue, Half shaded by the curls of glossy hair, That turn to gold in the West's golden glare.

CROLY--_Angel of the World_.

45. Love glower'd[A] when he saw her bonnie dark e'e, 'An swore by heaven's grace, He ne'er had seen, nor thought to see, Since e'er he left the Paphian lea, Mair lovely a dwallin' place.

WILLIAM THOM.

[A] Stared with surprise.