Chapter 16

And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. _Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.

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

Imparadised in one another's arms. _Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

I give thee all--I can no more. Though poor the offering be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee. _My Heart and Lute_. T. MOORE.

I've lived and loved. _Wallenstein, Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 6_. S.T. COLERIDGE.

LOVE'S PAINS.

A mighty pain to love it is, And 't is a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain. _Gold_. A. COWLEY.

The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love; The taint of earth, the odor of the skies Is in it. _Festus, Sc. Alcove, and Garden_. P.J. BAILEY.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe. _On Sensibility_. R. BURNS.

Love is like a landscape which doth stand Smooth at a distance, rough at hand. _On Love_. R. HEGGE.

Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace, That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him. _Alexander the Great, Act i. Sc. 3_. N. LEE.

To love you was pleasant enough, And O, 't is delicious to hate you! _To_ ---- T. MOORE.

LOVE'S UNITY.

Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one. _Ingomar the Barbarian, Act ii_. VON M. BELLINGHAUSEN. LOVELL'S _Trans_.

Our two souls, therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth if the other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like the other foot, obliquely run. Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun. _A Valediction forbidding Mourning_. DR. J. DONNE.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved. _To_ ---- W. WORDSWORTH.

With thee, all toils are sweet; each clime hath charms; Earth--sea alike--our world within our arms. _The Bride of Abydos_. LORD BYRON.

What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. _Measure for Measure, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE. He was a lover of the good old school, Who still become more constant as they cool. _Beppo, Canto XXXIV_, LORD BYRON.

Drink ye to her that each loves best, And if you nurse a flame That's told but to her mutual breast, We will not ask her name. _Drink ye to her_. T. CAMPBELL.

FERDINAND.--Here's my hand. MIRANDA.--And mine, with my heart in it. _Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

MAN.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!

* * * * *

A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt! Though sullied and dishonored, still divine! Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! a frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! insect infinite! A worm! a god!

* * * * *

What can preserve my life? or what destroy? An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; Legions of angels can't confine me there. _Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nature they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating as by rote. _Commemoration Ode_. J.R. LOWELL.

Man is the nobler growth our realms supply, And souls are ripened in our northern sky. _The Invitation_. MRS. A.L. BARBAULD.

'Tis God gives skill, But not without men's hands: He could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins Without Antonio. _Stradivarius_. GEORGE ELIOT.

Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise; Such men as live in these degenerate days. _Iliad, Bk. V_. HOMER. _Trans. of POPE_.

Be wise with speed: A fool at forty is a fool indeed. _Love of Fame, Satire II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

What tho' short thy date? Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. That life is long which answers life's great end. The time that bears no fruit deserves no name. The man of wisdom is the man of years. In hoary youth Methusalems may die; O, how misdated on their flatt'ring tombs! _Night Thoughts, Night V_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. _Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground: Another race the following spring supplies; They fall successive, and successive rise. _Iliad, Bk. VI_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man. * * * * * Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled; The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! _Essay on Man, Epistle II_. A. POPE.

MANNERS.

Those graceful acts, Those thousand decencies that daily flow From all her words and actions. _Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.

Of manners gentle, of affections mild; In wit a man, simplicity a child.

* * * * *

A safe companion and an easy friend Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end. _Epitaph on Gay_. A. POPE.

Her air, her manners, all who saw admired; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retired: The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed. _Parish Register, Pt. II_. G. CRABBE.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. _Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

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

'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. _Essay on Criticism, Pt. III_. A. POPE.

Fit for the mountains and the barb'rous caves, Where manners ne'er were preached. _Twelfth Night, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

He was the mildest mannered man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat. _Don Juan, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water. _King Henry VIII., Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Manners with fortunes, humors turn with climes, Tenets with books, and principles with times. _Moral Essays, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence. And pure religion breathing household laws. _Written in London, September, 1802_. W. WORDSWORTH.

Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can, But vindicate the ways of God to man. _Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

MATRIMONY.

True Love is but a humble, low-born thing, And hath its food served up in earthen ware; It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand. Through the every-dayness of this work-day world,

* * * * *

A simple, fireside thing, whose quiet smile Can warm earth's poorest hovel to a home. _Love_. J.R. LOWELL.

He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him; _King John, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him she obeys him; Though she draws him, yet she follows, Useless each without the other! _Hiawatha, Pt. X_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Man is but half without woman; and As do idolaters their heavenly gods, We deify the things that we adore. _Festus_. P.J. BAILEY.

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, Than women's are.

* * * * *

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. _Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband. _Taming of the Shrew, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

And truant husband should return, and say. "My dear, I was the first who came away." _Don Juan, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

With thee conversing I forget all time; All seasons and their change, all please alike.

* * * * *

But neither breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew, nor fragrance after showers, Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet. _Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

So loving to my mother. That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. _Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life; Dear as these eyes, that weep in fondness o'er thee. _Venice Preserved, Act v. Sc. 1_. T. OTWAY.

Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare. And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair. _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.

So, with decorum all things carry'd; Miss frowned, and blushed, and then was--married. _The Double Transformation_. O. GOLDSMITH.

For talk six times with the same single lady, And you may get the wedding dresses ready. _Don Juan, Canto XII_. LORD BYRON.

Why don't the men propose, mamma, Why don't the men propose? _Why don't the man propose_? T.H. BAYLY.

There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late She finds some honest gander for her mate. _Chaucer's Wife of Bath: Prologue_. A. POPE.

Under this window in stormy weather I marry this man and woman together; Let none but Him who rules the thunder Put this man and woman asunder. _Marriage Service from his Chamber Window_. J. SWIFT.

This house is to be let for life or years; Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears; Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known. She must be dearly let, or let alone. _Emblems, Bk. II. 10_ F. QUARLES.

Look ere thou leap, see ere thou go. _Of Wiving and Thriving_. T. TUSSER.

Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure. _The Old Bachelor, Act v. Sc. 1_. W. CONGREVE.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. _As You Like It, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

And oft the careless find it to their cost, The lover in the husband may be lost. _Advice to a Lady_. LORD LYTTELTON.

Wedlock, indeed, hath oft compared been To public feasts, where meet a public rout, Where they that are without would fain go in, And they that are within would fain go out. _Contention betwixt a Wife, etc_. SIR J. DAVIES.

O fie upon this single life! forego it. _Duchess of Malfy_. J. WEBSTER.

1. That man must lead a happy life 2. Who is directed by a wife; 3. Who's free from matrimonial chains 4. Is sure to suffer for his pains.

5. Adam could find no solid peace 6. Till he beheld a woman's face; 7. When Eve was given for a mate, 8. Adam was in a happy state. _Epigram on Matrimony: Read alternate lines_,--1, 3; 2, 4; 5, 7; 6, 8.

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

But happy they, the happiest of their kind! Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. _Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

And when with envy Time, transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys. _Winifreda_. T. PERCY.

Cling closer, closer, life to life, Cling closer, heart to heart; The time will come, my own wed Wife, When you and I must part! Let nothing break our band but Death, For in the world above 'Tis the breaker Death that soldereth Our ring of Wedded Love. _On a Wedding Day_. G. MASSEY.

MEDICINE.

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill; And what does he, but write a bill? Of which you need not read one letter; The worse the scrawl, the dose the better, For if you knew but what you take, Though you recover, he must break. _Alma, Canto III_. M. PRIOR.

But when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed. _Lodgings for Single Gentlemen_. G. COLEMAN, _the Younger_.

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said. The silent doctor shook his head And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow. _The Sick Man and the Angel_. J. GAY.

I do remember an apothecary.

* * * * *

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuffed, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes. _Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

With us ther was a Doctour of Phisik, In al this world ne was ther non him lyk To speke of phisik and of surgerye.

* * * * *

He knew the cause of every maladye, Were it of hoot or colde, or moyste or drye, And wher engendered and of what humour; He was a verrey parfight practisour. _Canterbury Tales: Prologue_. CHAUCER.

'T is not amiss, ere ye're giv'n o'er. To try one desp'rate med'cine more; For where your case can be no worse, The desp'rat'st is the wisest course. _Hudibras to Sidrophel_. S. BUTLER.

Take a little rum, The less you take the better, Pour it in the lakes Of Wener or of Wetter.

Dip a spoonful out And mind you don't get groggy, Pour it in the lake Of Winnipissiogie.

Stir the mixture well Lest it prove inferior, Then put half a drop Into Lake Superior.

Every other day Take a drop in water, You'll be better soon-- Or at least you oughter. _Lines on Homoeopathy_. BISHOP G.W. DOANE.

By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death Will seize the doctor too. _Cymbeline, Act v. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

MELANCHOLY.

Melancholy Is not, as you conceive, indisposition Of body, but the mind's disease. _The Lover's Melancholy, Act iii. Sc. 1_. J. FORD.

Go--you may call it madness, folly, You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay! _To_ ---- S. ROGERS.

There is a mood (I sing not to the vacant and the young), There is a kindly mood of melancholy That wings the soul and points her to the skies. _Ruins of Rome_. J. DYER.

MEMORY.

And, when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed. _The Excursion, Bk. VII_. W. WORDSWORTH.

I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. _Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

This memory brightens o'er the past, As when the sun concealed Behind some cloud that near us hangs, Shines on a distant field. _A Gleam of Sunshine_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, It shall be still thy true love's recompense. _Richard II., Act ii. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

The sweet remembrance of the just Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust. _Psalm CXII_. TATE AND BRADY.

When he shall hear she died upon his words, Th' idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparelled in more precious habit, More moving-delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soul, Than when she lived indeed. _Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Thou, thou alone, shall dwell forever. And still shall recollection trace In fancy's mirror, ever near, Each smile, each tear, upon that face-- Though lost to sight, to memory dear. _Though Lost to Sight, to Memory Dear_. T. MOORE.

Joy's recollection is no longer joy, While sorrow's memory is a sorrow still. _Doge of Venice_. LORD BYRON.

Of joys departed, Not to return, how painful the remembrance! _The Grave_. R. BLAIR.

He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. _Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start When Memory plays an old tune on the heart! _Old Dobbin_. R. COOK.

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill. _Walking with God_. W. COWPER.

While memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain. _Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

The leaves of memory seem to make A mournful rustling in the dark. _The Fire of Driftwood_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

My memory now is but the tomb of joys long past. _The Giaour_. LORD BYRON.

Remembrance and reflection how allied! What thin partitions sense from thought divide! _Essay on Man, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

And memory, like a drop that night and day Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away! _Lalla Rookh_. T. MOORE.

Of all affliction taught the lover yet, 'T is sure the hardest science to forget. _Eloisa to Abélard_. A. POPE.

Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, How often must it love, how often hate. How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Conceal, disdain,--do all things but forget. _Eloisa to Abélard_. A. POPE.

To live with them is far less sweet Than to remember thee! _I saw thy form_. T. MOORE.

The heart hath its own memory, like the mind And in it are enshrined The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought The giver's loving thought. _From my Arm-chair_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

MERCY.

The quality of mercy is not strained,-- It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed,-- It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:

'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The thronèd monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings: But mercy is above this sceptred sway,-- It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice....

We do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. _Merchant of Venice, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Who will not mercie unto others show, How can he mercie ever hope to have? _Faërie Queene, Bk. VI. Canto I_. E. SPENSER.

No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does. _Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. _Titus Andronicus, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfied, and Thee appease. _Paradise Lost, Bk. X_. MILTON.

MERRIMENT.

Gold that buys health can never be ill spent, Nor hours laid out in harmless merriment. _Westward Ho, Act v. Sc. 3_. J. WEBSTER.

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. _Tempest, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

The glad circles round them yield their souls To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. _The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

As merry as the day is long. _Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life. _Taming of the Shrew: Induction, Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit. For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-loving jest. _Love's Labor's Lost, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Jog on, jog, on the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a. _The Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt, And every grin, so merry, draws one out. _Expostulatory Odes, XV_. DR. J. WOLCOTT (_Peter Pindar_).

And yet, methinks, the older that one grows, Inclines us more to laugh than scold, tho' laughter Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after. _Beppo_. LORD BYRON.

There's not a string attuned to mirth But has its chord in melancholy. _Ode to Melancholy_. T. HOOD.

Low gurgling laughter, as sweet As the swallow's song i' the South, And a ripple of dimples that, dancing, meet By the curves of a perfect mouth. _Ariel_. P.H. HAYNE.

Fight Virtue's cause, stand up in Wit's defence, Win us from vice and laugh us into sense. _On the Prospect of Peace_. T. TICKELL.

Let me play the fool; With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? _Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

MIND.

We had not walked But for Tradition; we walk evermore To higher paths by brightening Reason's lamp. _Spanish Gypsy, Bk. II_. GEORGE ELIOT.

He that of such a height hath built his mind, And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong, As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame Of his resolvèd powers; nor all the wind Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong His settled peace, or to disturb the same; What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may The boundless wastes and wilds of man survey?

* * * * *

Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man! _To the Countess of Cumberland_. S. DANIEL.

The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. _Paradise Lost, Bk. I_. MILTON.

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

How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice. _The Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. _Lines added to Goldsmith's Traveller_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh. _Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts! _Paracelsus_. R. BROWNING.

Were I so tall to reach the pole, Or grasp the ocean with my span, I must be measured by my soul: The mind's the standard of the man. _Horæ Lyricæ, Bk. II.: False Greatness_. DR. I. WATTS.