By nature great, are conscious of their greatness,
And hold it mean to borrow aught from flattery.

9. My soul is open to the charms of praise:
There is no joy beyond it, when the mind
Of him who hears it can, with honest pride,
Confess it just, and listen to its music.

ROWE.

WHITEHEAD'S Roman Father.

10. In praising Chloris, moon, and stars, and skies, Are quickly made to match her face and eyes; And gold and rubies, with as little care,

To fit the colour of her lips and hair;

And mixing suns, and flowers, and pearls and stones,
Make them seem all complexions at once.

11. For praise, that 's due, does give no more To worth than what it had before;

But, to commend without desert,

Requires a mastery of art,

That sets a glass on what's amiss,

BUTLER.

And

says what should be, not what is.

BUTLER.

12. The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art,
Reigns, more or less, and glows in every heart;
The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure,
The modest shun it, but to make it sure.

YOUNG'S Love of Fame.

13. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
Till, his relish grown callous almost to disease,
Who pepper'd the highest, was surest to please.

GOLDSMITH'S Retaliation.

14. A flattering painter, who made it his care

To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.

GOLDSMITH'S Retaliation.

276

FLATTERY-SYCOPHANT - PRAISE.

GAY'S Trivia.

15. To hear his soothing tales, she feigns delays; What woman can resist the force of praise?

20. Praise of the wise and good !—it is a meed
For which I would long years of toil endure-
Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure.

POPE.

SIR E. BRYDGES.

21. Oh! it is worse than mockery to list the flatt'rer's tone, To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek must blush to

own,

To hear the red lip whisper'd of, and the flowing curl, and

eye,

Made constant theme of eulogy extravagant and high-
And the charm of person worshipp'd, in an homage offer'd

not

To the perfect charm of virtue, and the majesty of thought.
J. G. WHITTIER.

22. Oh! when the breath of flattery is warm upon thine ear, And manly brows are bending in humble suppliance near, May no dream of tenderness arise, which earth may not fulfil,

And no fountain open in thy heart, which Time hath power to chill!

FLOWERS-FRUITS.

J. G. WHITTIER.

1.

Sweet garland wreaths

Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.

MILTON'S Comus.

2. Where peaches glow with sunny dyes,
Like maidens' cheeks when blushes rise;
Where with huge figs the branches bend,
Where clusters from the vine distend.

GAY'S Fables.

3. Here, scatter'd wild, the lily of the vale
Its balmy essence breathes; here cowslips hang
Their dewy heads, and purple violets lurk,
With all the lowly children of the shade.

4. Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse,
And soft carnations shower their balmy dews;
Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
The thin undress of superficial light;
And varied tulips show so dazzling gay,
Blushing in bright diversities of day.

5.

She looks as clear

As morning roses, newly wash'd in dew.

THOMSON.

POPE.

SHAKSPEARE.

SOMERVILE'S Chase.

6. The fragrant orange, with bright golden rind.

Which bears at once the cup, and milk, and fruit.

9. The little flow'rets raise their heads, And bloom as gaily on the grave,

11.

Half hidden from the eye,

Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

BYRON'S Island.

Richmond Republican.

Like sweet thoughts that come
Wing'd from the maiden fancy, and fly off
In music to the skies, and then are lost,
These ever-steaming odours seek the sun,
And fade in the light he scatters.

12. In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,

WORDSWORTH.

BARRY CORNWALL.

And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers,
On its leaves a mystic language bears.

J. G. PERCIVAL.

13. The evergreen stern Winter's power derides, Like hope, that in misfortune's storm abides.

14. Yes, lovely flower, I find in thee

Wild sweetness which no words express,
And charms in thy simplicity

That dwell not in the pride of dress.

LANGHORNE.

A daintiness about these early flowers,
That touches me like poetry. They blow out
With such a simple loveliness among
The common herbs of pastures, and breathe
Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts
Whose beatings are too gentle for the world.

N. P. WILLIS. 16. Oh! the flowers look upward in every place, Through this beautiful world of ours,

And, dear as a smile on an old friend's face,
Is the smile of the bright, bright flowers!

1. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit.

SHAKSPEARE.

2. He who digs hills because they do aspire, Throws down one mountain, to cast up a higher.

Dress'd in a little brief authority,

Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,

His glossy essence-like an angry ape—

Plays such fantastic tricks, before high heaven,
As makes the angels weep.

SHAKSPEARE.

5. Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.

MILTON.