Imatges de pàgina
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Sits on me as a cloud along the sky,

Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor yet
Descend in rain, and end; but spreads itself
"Twixt heav'n and earth, like Envy between man
And man-and is an everlasting mist.

9. And if I laugh at any mortal thing,

'Tis that I may not weep; and if I weep, "T is that our nature cannot always bring Itself to apathy, which we must steep First in the icy depths of Lethe's spring,

Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep.

BYRON.

BYRON'S Don Juan

10. But can the noble mind for ever brood,
The willing victim of a weary mood,
On heartless cares that squander life away,
And cloud young Genius bright'ning into day?

CAMPBELL.

11. 'T was thus in Nature's bloom and solitude,
He nurs'd his grief till nothing could assuage;
"T was thus his tender spirit was subdued,
Till in life's toils it could no more engage.

12. Come, rouse thee, dearest: 't is not well
To let the spirit brood

Thus darkly o'er the cares that swell
Life's current to a flood.

As brooks and torrents, rivers, all
Increase the gulf in which they fall,
Such thoughts, by gathering up the rills
Of lesser griefs, spread real ills;
And with their gloomy shades conceal
The landmarks Hope would else reveal.

CARLOS WILCOX.

MRS. DINNIES.

.106

CARE - MELANCHOLY-GLOOM.

13. Blame not, if oft, in melancholy mood,

This theme too far such fancy hath pursued;
And if the soul, which high with hope should beat,
Turns to the gloomy grave's unblest retreat.

14. Oh! it is hard to put the heart

Alone and desolate away

To curl the lip in pride, and part
With the kind thoughts of yesterday.

15. Strange that the love-lorn heart will beat With rapture wide amid its folly ;—

No grief so soft, no pain so sweet

As love's delicious melancholy.

ROBERT SANDS.

N. P. WILLIS.

MRS. A. B. WELBY.

16. O! dark is the gloom o'er my young spirit stealing! Then why should I linger when others are gay ?The smile that I wear, is but worn for concealing

A heart, that is wasting in sadness away.

MRS. A. B. WELBY.

17. Alas, for my weary and care-haunted bosom!

The spells of the spring-time arouse it no more;
The song in the wildwood, the sheen in the blossom,
The fresh-swelling fountain-their magic is o'er!
When I list to the stream, when I look on the flowers,
They tell of the Past, with so mournful a tone,
That I call up the throngs of my long-vanish'd hours,
And sigh that their transports are over and gone.
WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.

18. How vain a task, to wake my lyre
To rapture's thrill, with passion's fire,
While sorrow o'er my heart-strings plays,
With trembling touch, her saddest lays!

MRS. OSGOOD.

19. Pale Care now sits enthron'd upon that cheek, Where rosy Health did erst her empire hold.

J. T. WATSON.

CAUTION-DISCRETION - PRUDENCE.

1. But now, so wise and wary was the knight, By trial of his former harms and cares, That he decry'd, and shunned still his sight:

The fish, that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite.

SPENSER'S Fairy Queen.

2. They, that fear the adder's sting, will not

Come near his hissing.

CHAPMAN.

3. Look forward what's to come, and back what's past;
Thy life will be with praise and prudence grac'd:
What loss or gain may follow, thou may'st guess;
Thou then wilt be secure of the success.

4. The better part of valour is discretion.

DENHAM.

SHAKSPEARE.

5. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks.

SHAKSPEARE.

6. Prudence! thou vainly in our youth art sought,
And, with age purchas'd, art too dearly bought ;-
We're past the use of wit, for which we toil,
Late fruit, and planted in too cold a soil.

7. None pities him that's in the snare, And, warn'd before, would not beware.

DRYDEN.

HERRICK.

8. Man's caution often into danger turns,

And his guard, falling, crushes him to death.

YOUNG.

9. He knows the compass, sail and oar,
Or never launches from the shore;
Before he builds computes the cost,
And in no proud pursuit is lost.

GAY's Fables.

108

CELIBACY - CHASTITY.

10. Would you, when thieves are known abroad, Bring forth your treasures in the road?

Would not the fool abet the stealth,

Who rashly thus expos'd his wealth?

11. The mouse, that always trusts to one poor hole, Can never be a mouse of any soul.

GAY'S Fables.

POPE.

12. All's to be fear'd where all is to be lost.

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Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.

Chaste as the icicle

That's curdled by the frost of purest snow,

And hangs on Dian's temple.

3. Lady, you are the cruelest she alive,
If you will lead those graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

4. So dear to heaven is saintly chastity,

That when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liv'ried angels lacquey her,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.

SHAKSPEARE.

SHAKSPEARE.

SHAKSPEARE.

MILTON'S Comus.

5. Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain But our destroyer, foe to God and man?

MILTON'S Paradise Lost.

6. There swims no goose so grey, but, soon or late,

She finds some honest gander for a mate.

POPE.

7. Most women's weak resolves, like reeds, will fly,
Shake with each breath, and bend with every sigh;
Mine, like an oak whose firm roots deep descend,
Nor breath of love can shake, nor sigh can bend.

8. When lovely woman stoops to folly,

And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away?—

The only way her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,

And wring his bosom-is to die.

9. If I am fair, 't is for myself alone;

GAY'S Dione.

I do not wish to have a sweetheart near me,
Nor would I call another's heart my own,
Nor have a gallant lover to revere me;

For surely I would plight my faith to none,

GOLDSMITH.

Though many an amorous cit might jump to hear me : For I have heard that lovers prove deceivers,

When once they find that maidens are believers.

10. Her bosom was a soft retreat For love and love alone,

From MICHEL ANGELO.

And yet her heart had never beat
To love's delicious tone.

It dwelt within its circle, free

From tender thoughts like these,
Waiting the little deity,

As the blossom waits the breeze,
Before it throws the leaves apart,
And trembles, like the love-touch'd heart.

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

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