Chapter 14

To be no more--sad cure; for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion? _Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light. _Even So_. J. MILLER.

No, no! The energy of life may be Kept on after the grave, but not begun; And he who flagged not in the earthly strife, From strength to strength advancing--only he, His soul well-knit, and all his battles won, Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life. _Immortality_. M. ARNOLD.

God keeps a niche In Heaven, to hold our idols; and albeit He brake them to our faces, and denied That our close kisses should impair their white,-- I know we shall behold them raised, complete, The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, New Memnons singing in the great God-light. _Futurity with the Departed_. E.B. BROWNING.

The wisest men are glad to die; no fear Of death can touch a true philosopher. Death sets the soul at liberty to fly. _Continuation of Lucan_. T. MAY.

Alas! for love, if thou art all, And naught beyond, O Earth! _The Graves of a Household_. MRS. F. HEMANS.

'Tis not the whole of life to live: Nor all of death to die. _The Issues of Life and Death_. J. MONTGOMERY.

Since heaven's eternal year is thine. _Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew_. J. DRYDEN.

INCONSTANCY.

Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men. _King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more. Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never. _Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

There is no music in a voice That is but one, and still the same; Inconstancy is but a name To fright poor lovers from a better choice. _Shepherd's Holiday_. J. RUTTER.

The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leafy. _Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Love ne'er should die;... One object lost, another should succeed; And all our life be love. _Pastorals_. T. BROWN.

There are three things a wise man will not trust: The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith. _Madoc_. R. SOUTHEY.

Who trusts himself to woman or to waves Should never hazard what he fears to lose. _Governor of Cyprus_. J. OLDMIXON.

Away, away--you're all the same, A flattering, smiling, jilting throng! O, by my soul, I burn with shame, To think I've been your slave so long! _Song_. T. MOORE.

Frailty, thy name is woman! _Hamlet, Act_ i. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

HAMLET.--Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

OPHELIA.--'Tis brief, my lord.

HAMLET.--As woman's love. _Hamlet, Act iii. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Framed to make women false. _Othello, Act i. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

To beguile many, and be beguiled by one. _Othello, Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEAKE.

Or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears;--why she, even she (O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason Would have mourned longer) married with my uncle, My father's brother. _Hamlet, Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Trust not a man: we are by nature false, Dissembling, subtle, cruel and inconstant; When a man talks of love, with caution hear him; But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee. _The Orphan_. T. OTWAY.

Nay, women are frail too; Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. _Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

In part to blame is she, Which hath without consent bin only tride: He comes too neere that comes to be denide. _A Wife_. SIR T. OVERBURY.

The heart!--Yes, I wore it As sign and as token Of a love that once gave it, A vow that was spoken; But a love, and a vow, and a heart, Can be broken. _Hearts_. A.A. PROCTER.

A love that took an early root, And had an early doom. _The Devil's Progress_. T.K. HERVEY.

Or as one nail by strength drives out another, So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer object quite forgotten. _Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

All love may be expelled by other love, As poisons are by poisons. _All for Love_. J. DRYDEN.

At lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. _Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury. _Palamon and Arcite, Bk. II_. J. DRYDEN.

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods, they change for worse! _The Arraignment of Paris: Cupid's Curse_. G. PEELE.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. _Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

To be once in doubt, Is once to be resolved. _Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

INGRATITUDE.

I hate ingratitude more in a man, Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice. _Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

He that's ungrateful, has no guilt but one; All other crimes may pass for virtues in him. _Busiris_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Ah, how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man! _Night Thoughts, Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child! _King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

INN.

Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn? _Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Now musing o'er the changing scene Farmers behind the tavern screen Collect; with elbows idly pressed On hob, reclines the corner's guest, Reading the news to mark again The bankrupt lists or price of grain. Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe, Yet, winter's leisure to regale, Hopes better times, and sips his ale. _The Shepherd's Calendar_. J. CLARE.

Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? _Lines on the Mermaid Tavern_. J. KEATS.

Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn. _Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn. _Written on a Window of an Inn_. W. SHENSTONE.

INNOCENCE.

Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! _Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

O, white innocence, That thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hide Thine awful and serenest countenance From those who know thee not! _The Cenci, Act v. Sc. 3_. P.B. SHELLEY.

I never tempted her with word too large; But, as a brother to his sister, showed Bashful sincerity, and comely love. _Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

And dallies with the innocence of love. _Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free; Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms; Inflexible in faith; invincible in arms. _The Minstrel, Bk. I_. J. BEATTIE.

True, conscious honor is to feel no sin; He's armed without that's innocent within. _Imitation of Horace, Epistle 1. Bk. I_. A. POPE.

INSECTS.

My banks they are furnished with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep. _A Pastoral Ballad, Pt. II_. W. SHENSTONE.

Here their delicious task the fervent bees In swarming millions tend: around, athwart, Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, Cling to the bud, and with inserted tube, Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul; And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, And yellow load them with the luscious spoil. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. _Poems_. E. DICKINSON.

O'er folded blooms On swirls of musk, The beetle booms adown the glooms And bumps along the dusk. _The Beetle_. J.W. RILEY.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet. _I'd be a Butterfly_. T.H. BAYLY.

Rose suddenly a swarm of butterflies, On wings of white and gold and azure fire; And one said: "These are flowers that seek the skies, Loosed by the spell of their supreme desire." _Butterflies_. C.G.D. ROBERTS.

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

I saw a flie within a beade Of amber cleanly buried. _On a Fly buried in Amber_. R. HERRICK.

Oh! that the memories which survive us here Were half so lovely as these wings of thine! Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine Now thou art gone. _On Finding a Fly Crushed in a Book_. C.T. TURNER.

When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark. _The Glow-worm_. J. MONTGOMERY.

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late; And studying all the summer night, Her matchless songs does meditate. _The Mower to the Glow-worm_. A. MARVEL.

Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well. _Leaves of Grass, Pt. XXXVIII_. W. WHITMAN.

What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes, Thy one brief parting pang may show: And withering thoughts for soul that dashes, From deep to deep, are but a death more slow. _Tragedy of the Night-Moth_. T. CARLYLE.

The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line. _Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide: If aught do touch the utmost thread of it, She feels it instantly on every side. _Immortality of the Soul: Feeling_. SIR J. DAVIES.

INSTRUCTION.

'Tis education forms the common mind: Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. _Moral Essays, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Men must be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown proposed as things forgot. _Essay on Criticism_. A. POPE.

Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong; They learn in suffering what they teach in song. _Julian and Maddalo_. P.B. SHELLEY.

INVENTION.

Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam! afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car; Or on wide waving wings expanded bear The flying-chariot through the field of air. _The Botanic Garden, Pt. 1. Ch. I_. [1781]. E. DARWIN.

Electric telegraphs, printing, gas, Tobacco, balloons, and steam, Are little events that have come to pass Since the days of the old _régime_. And, spite of Lemprière's dazzling page, I'd give--though it might seem bold-- A hundred years of the Golden Age For a year of the Age of Gold. _The Two Ages_. H.S. LEIGH.

What cannot art and industry perform, When science plans the progress of their toil! _The Minstrel_. J. BEATTIE.

For out of the old fieldès, as men saithe, Cometh al this new corne fro yere to yere, And out of old bookès, in good faithe, Cometh al this new science that men lere. _The Assembly of Foules_. CHAUCER.

JEALOUSY.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on.... But, O, what damnèd minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! _Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Trifle, light as air, Are to the jealous confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ. _Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives: What phrenzy dictates, jealousy believes. _Diome_. J. GAY.

Nor jealousy Was understood, the injured lover's hell. _Paradise Lost, Bk. V_. MILTON.

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy! _Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

O jealousy, Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue Of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, And drinks my spirit up! _David and Goliath_. H. MORE.

If I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you, 'Tis rigor, and not law. _Winter's Tale, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, As, I confess, it is my nature's plague To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy Shapes faults that are not. _Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

But through the heart Should Jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more, But agony unmixed, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

JESUS CHRIST.

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid. _Epiphany_. BISHOP R. HEBER.

He was the Word, that spake it; He took the bread and brake it; And what that Word did make it, I do believe and take it. _Divine Poems: On the Sacrament_. DR. J. DONNE.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thought. _In Memoriam, XXXVI_. A. TENNYSON. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time, _Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

In those holy fields, Over whose acres walked those blessèd feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed, For our advantage, on the bitter cross. _Henry IV., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Lovely was the death Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power, He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed Manifest Godhead. _Religious Musings_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

But chiefly Thou Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heaven To bleed for man, to teach him how to live, And, oh! still harder lesson! how to die. _Death_. B. PORTEUS.

One there is above all others, Well deserves the name of Friend! His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end: They who once his kindness prove, Find it everlasting love! _A Friend that Sticketh Closer than a Brother_. J. NEWTON.

'Tis done, the great transaction's done; I am my Lord's, and he is mine; He drew me, and I followed on, Charmed to confess the voice divine.

Now rest, my long-divided heart! Fixed on this blissful centre, rest; Oh, who with earth would grudge to part, When called with angels to be blest? _Happy Day_. P. DODDRIDGE.

Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, What may thy service be?-- Nor name, nor town, nor ritual word, But simply following thee.

We bring no ghastly holocaust, We pile no graven stone; He serves thee best who loveth most His brothers and thy own. _Our Master_. J.G. WHITTIER.

JEWEL.

These gems have life in them: their colors speak, Say what words fail of. _The Spanish Gypsy_. GEORGE ELIOT.

If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster shell. _Apology for his Book_. J. BUNYAN.

Some asked how pearls did grow, and where, Then spoke I to my girle, To part her lips, and showed them there The quarelets of pearl. _The Rock of Rubies and the Quarrie of Pearl_. R. HERRICK.

The lively Diamond drinks thy purest rays, Collected light, compact. _The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

Like stones of worth, they thinly placèd are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet. _Sonnet III_. SHAKESPEARE.

Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. _A Persian Song of Hafiz_. SIR W. JONES.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore. _Song: Rich and Rare_. T. MOORE.

I see the jewel best enamelled Will lose his beauty; and the gold 'bides still, That others touch, and often touching will Wear gold. _Comedy of Errors, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

JOURNALISM.

He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spattered boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumbering at his back. _The Task, Bk. IV_. W. COWPER.

Trade hardly deems the busy day begun Till his keen eye along the sheet has run; The blooming daughter throws her needle by, And reads her schoolmate's marriage with a sigh; While the grave mother puts her glasses on, And gives a tear to some old crony gone. The preacher, too, his Sunday theme lays down, To know what last new folly fills the town; Lively or sad, life's meanest, mightiest things, The fate of fighting cocks, or fighting kings. _Curiosity_. C. SPRAGUE.

For evil news rides fast, while good news baits. _Samson Agonistes_. MILTON.

If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it: A chiel's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he'll prent it. _On Capt. Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland_. R. BURNS.

A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon, A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon. Condemned to drudge, the meanest of the mean, And furbish falsehoods for a magazine. _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.

To serve thy generation, this thy fate: "Written in water," swiftly fades thy name; But he who loves his kind does, first and late, A work too great for fame. _The Journalist_. MRS. M. CLEMMER A. HUDSON.

This folio of four pages, happy work! Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds Inquisitive attention while I read,

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What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations and its vast concerns? 'Tis pleasant, through the loop-holes of retreat, To peep at such a world,--to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.

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While fancy, like the finger of a clock. Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. _Winter Evening: The Task, Bk. IV_. W. COWPER.

Here shall the Press the People's right maintain, Unawed by influence and unbribed by gain; Here Patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw, Pledged to Religion, Liberty, and Law. _Motto of Salem (Mass.) Register_. J. STORY.

JOY.

What though my wingèd hours of bliss have been, Like angel-visits, few and far between. _Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II_. T. CAMBPELL

How fading are the joys we dote upon! Like apparitions seen and gone; But those which soonest take their flight Are the most exquisite and strong; Like angels' visits, short and bright, Mortality's too weak to bear them long. _The Parting_. J. NORRIS.

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep. _Festus, Sc. A Village Feast_. P.J. BAILEY.

Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past. _The Little Cloud_. J. MONTGOMERY.

The joy late coming late departs. _Some Sweet Day_. L.J. BATES.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away. _Song: There's Not a Joy_. LORD BYRON.

Base Envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. _King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy. _The Course of Time, Bk. I_. R. POLLOK.

O stay!--O stay!-- Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain To break its links so soon. _Fly Not Yet_. T. MOORE.

KISS.

What is a kiss? Alacke! at worst, A single Dropp to quenche a Thirst, Tho' oft it prooves, in happie Hour, The first swete Dropp of our long Showre. _In the Old Time_. C.G. LELAND.

I was betrothed that day; I wore a troth kiss on my lips I could not give away. _The Lay of the Brown Rosary, Pt. II_. E.B. BROWNING.

The kiss you take is paid by that you give: The joy is mutual, and I'm still in debt. _Heroic Love, Act v. Sc_. 1. LORD LANDSDOWNE.

Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score; Then to that twenty adde a hundred more; A thousand to that hundred; so kisse on, To make that thousand up a million; Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun. _Hesperides to Anthea_. R. HERRICK.

Blush, happy maiden, when you feel The lips which press love's glowing seal; But as the slow years darklier roll, Grown wiser, the experienced soul Will own as dearer far than they The lips which kiss the tears away. _Kisses_. E. AKERS.

Teach not thy lips such scorn: for they were made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt, _Richard III., Act i. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

My lips till then had only known The kiss of mother and of sister, But somehow, full upon her own Sweet, rosy, darling mouth,--I kissed her. _The Door-Step_. E.C. STEDMAN.

As in the soft and sweet eclipse. When soul meets soul on lover's lips. _Prometheus Unbound, Act_ iv. P.B. SHELLEY.

O Love! O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. _Fatima_. A. TENNYSON.

A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth and love. _Don Juan, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.-- Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!-- _Faustus_. C. MARLOWE.

I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse The tyrant's wish, "that mankind only had One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce;" My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad, And much more tender on the whole than fierce; It being (not _now_, but only while a lad) That womankind had but one rosy mouth, To kiss them all at once, from North to South. _Don Juan, Canto VI_. LORD BYRON.

Or ere I could Give him that parting kiss, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father And like the tyrannous breathing of the north Shakes all our buds from growing. _Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Eyes, look your last: Arms, take your last embrace; and lips, O! you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death. _Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

KNOWLEDGE.

Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. _The Task, Bk. VI_. W. COWPER.

All things I thought I knew; but now confess The more I know I know, I know the less. _Works, Bk. VI_. J. OWEN.

In vain sedate reflections we would make When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take. _Moral Essays, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

LABOR.

No man is born into the world whose work Is not born with him. _A Glance Behind the Curtain_. J.R. LOWELL.

If little labor, little are our gaines: Man's fortunes are according to his paines. _Hesperides: No Paines, No Gaines_. R. HERRICK.

Who first invented work, and bound the free And holiday-rejoicing spirit down

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To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?

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Sabbathless Satan! _Work_. C. LAMB.