FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. (continued 7)

If the man who turnips cries Cry not when his father dies, 'T is a proof that he had rather Have a turnip than his father. Johnsoniana. Piozzi, 30.

As with my hat[375:3] upon my head I walk'd along the Strand, I there did meet another man With his hat in his hand.[375:4] Johnsoniana. George Steevens. 310.

For his chaste Muse employ'd her heaven-taught lyre None but the noblest passions to inspire, Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, One line which, dying, he could wish to blot. Prologue to Thomson's Coriolanus.

Women, like princes, find few real friends. Advice to a Lady.

What is your sex's earliest, latest care, Your heart's supreme ambition? To be fair. Advice to a Lady.

The lover in the husband may be lost. Advice to a Lady.

How much the wife is dearer than the bride. An Irregular Ode.

None without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair, But love can hope where reason would despair. Epigram.

Where none admire, 't is useless to excel; Where none are beaux, 't is vain to be a belle. Soliloquy on a Beauty in the Country.

Alas! by some degree of woe We every bliss must gain; The heart can ne'er a transport know That never feels a pain. Song.

Can't I another's face commend, And to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead lowers, As if her merit lessen'd yours? The Farmer, the Spaniel, and the Cat. Fable ix.

The maid who modestly conceals Her beauties, while she hides, reveals; Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws Whate'er the Grecian Venus was. The Spider and the Bee. Fable x.

But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound. The Spider and the Bee. Fable x.

Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth. The Happy Marriage.

Labour for his pains.[378:2] The Boy and the Rainbow.

Whoe'er has travell'd 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.[379:4] Written on a Window of an Inn.

So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return. A Pastoral. Part i.

I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed. A Pastoral. Part i.

My banks they are furnish'd with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep. A Pastoral. Part ii. Hope.

For seldom shall she hear a tale So sad, so tender, and so true. Jemmy Dawson.

Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, Emblems right meet of decency does yield. The Schoolmistress. Stanza 6.

Pun-provoking thyme. The Schoolmistress. Stanza 11.

A little bench of heedless bishops here, And there a chancellor in embryo. The Schoolmistress. Stanza 28.

Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction,— That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour Serves but to brighten all our future days. Barbarossa. Act v. Sc. 3.

And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley by a grin. An Essay on Satire, occasioned by the Death of Mr. Pope.[380:1]

From humble Port to imperial Tokay. High Life below Stairs. Act ii. Sc. 1.

What female heart can gold despise? What cat 's averse to fish? On the death of a Favourite Cat.

A fav'rite has no friend! On the death of a Favourite Cat.

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 1.

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 2.

They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 4.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Less pleasing when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 5.

Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come, Nor care beyond to-day. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 6.

Ah, tell them they are men! On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 6.

And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe. On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 8.

To each his suff'rings; all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan,— The tender for another's pain, Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, [382]And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; where ignorance is bliss, 'T is folly to be wise.[382:1] On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 10.

Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, afflict the best! Hymn to Adversity.

From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take. The Progress of Poesy. I. 1, Line 3.

Glance their many-twinkling feet. The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 11.

O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.[382:2] The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 16.

Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th' unconquerable mind,[382:3] and freedom's holy flame. The Progress of Poesy. II. 2, Line 10.

Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears. The Progress of Poesy. III. 1, Line 12.

He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. The Progress of Poesy. III. 2, Line 4.

Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.[382:4] The Progress of Poesy. III. 3, Line 2.

Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far,—but far above the great. The Progress of Poesy. III. 3, Line 16.

Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Confusion on thy banners wait! Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state. The Bard. I. 1, Line 1.

Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.[383:1] The Bard. I. 2, Line 5.

To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. The Bard. I. 2, Line 14.

Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes; Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.[383:2] The Bard. I. 3, Line 12.

Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race. Give ample room and verge enough[383:3] The characters of hell to trace. The Bard. II. 1, Line 1.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows; While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey. The Bard. II. 2, Line 9.

Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed. The Bard. II. 3, Line 11.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul! The Bard. III. 1, Line 11.

And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest. The Bard. III. 3, Line 3.

Comus and his midnight crew. Ode for Music. Line 2.

While bright-eyed Science watches round. Ode for Music. Chorus. Line 3.

The still small voice of gratitude. Ode for Music. V. Line 8.

Iron sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darken'd air. The Fatal Sisters. Line 3.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,[384:1] The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 1.

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 4.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 5.

Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 8.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 9.

Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 10.

Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death? Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 11.

Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 12.

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;[384:2] Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 13.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.[385:1] Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 14.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 15.

The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 16.

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 17.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.[385:2] Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 19.

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 20.

And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 21.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind? Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 22.

E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.[385:3] Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 23.

Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 25.

One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree: Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 28.

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.[386:1] The Epitaph.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gained from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend. The Epitaph.

No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God. The Epitaph.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain. Sonnet. On the Death of Mr. West.

Rich windows that exclude the light, And passages that lead to nothing. A Long Story.

The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastised by sabler tints of woe. Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 45.

The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise. Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 53.

And hie him home, at evening's close, To sweet repast and calm repose. Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 87.

From toil he wins his spirits light, From busy day the peaceful night; Rich, from the very want of wealth, In heaven's best treasures, peace and health. Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 93.

The social smile, the sympathetic tear. Education and Government.

When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.[387:1] Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune; He had not the method of making a fortune. On his own Character.

"The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea."

Corrupted freemen are the worst of slaves. Prologue to the Gamesters.

Their cause I plead,—plead it in heart and mind; A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind.[387:2] Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1776.

Prologues like compliments are loss of time; 'T is penning bows and making legs in rhyme. Prologue to Crisp's Tragedy of Virginia.

Let others hail the rising sun: I bow to that whose course is run.[387:3] On the Death of Mr. Pelham.

This scholar, rake, Christian, dupe, gamester, and poet. Jupiter and Mercury.

Hearts of oak are our ships, Hearts of oak are our men.[388:1] Hearts of Oak.

Here lies James Quinn. Deign, reader, to be taught, Whate'er thy strength of body, force of thought, In Nature's happiest mould however cast, To this complexion thou must come at last. Epitaph on Quinn. Murphy's Life of Garrick, Vol. ii. p. 38.

Are these the choice dishes the Doctor has sent us? Is this the great poet whose works so content us? This Goldsmith's fine feast, who has written fine books? Heaven sends us good meat, but the Devil sends cooks?[388:2] Epigram on Goldsmith's Retaliation. Vol. ii. p. 157.

Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll, Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll. Impromptu Epitaph on Goldsmith.

Who dares this pair of boots displace, Must meet Bombastes face to face.[388:3] Bombastes Furioso. Act i. Sc. 4.

Bom. So have I heard on Afric's burning shore A hungry lion give a grievous roar; The grievous roar echoed along the shore. Artax. So have I heard on Afric's burning shore Another lion give a grievous roar; And the first lion thought the last a bore. Bombastes Furioso. Act i. Sc. 4.

Nor peace nor ease the heart can know Which, like the needle true, Turns at the touch of joy or woe, But turning, trembles too. A Prayer for Indifference.

In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong. Ode to Simplicity.

Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell: 'T is virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.[389:4] Oriental Eclogues. 1, Line 5.

How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes bless'd! Ode written in the year 1746.

By fairy hands their knell is rung;[389:5] By forms unseen their dirge is sung; [390]There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there! Ode written in the year 1746.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung. The Passions. Line 1.

Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired. The Passions. Line 10.

'T was sad by fits, by starts 't was wild. The Passions. Line 28.

In notes by distance made more sweet.[390:1] The Passions. Line 60.

In hollow murmurs died away. The Passions. Line 68.

O Music! sphere-descended maid, Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid! The Passions. Line 95.

In yonder grave a Druid lies. Death of Thomson.

Too nicely Jonson knew the critic's part; Nature in him was almost lost in Art. To Sir Thomas Hammer on his Edition of Shakespeare.

Each lonely scene shall thee restore; For thee the tear be duly shed, Belov'd till life can charm no more, And mourn'd till Pity's self be dead. Dirge in Cymbeline.

Not what we wish, but what we want, Oh, let thy grace supply![390:2] Hymn.

Oft has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark. The Chameleon.

He made him a hut, wherein he did put The carcass of Robinson Crusoe. O poor Robinson Crusoe! The Mayor of Garratt. Act i. Sc. 1.

Born in a cellar, and living in a garret.[391:1] The Author. Act ii.

Henceforth the majesty of God revere; Fear Him, and you have nothing else to fear.[391:2] Answer to a Gentleman who apologized to the Author for Swearing.

From Piety, whose soul sincere Fears God, and knows no other fear. W. Smyth: Ode for the Installation of the Duke of Gloucester as Chancellor of Cambridge.

Such and so various are the tastes of men. Pleasures of the Imagination. Book iii. Line 567.

Than Timoleon's arms require, And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre. Ode. On a Sermon against Glory. Stanza ii.

The man forget not, though in rags he lies, And know the mortal through a crown's disguise. Epistle to Curio.

Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys, And eagerly pursues imaginary joys. The Virtuoso. Stanza x.

Thy spirit, Independence, let me share; Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye, Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Ode to Independence.

Thy fatal shafts unerring move, I bow before thine altar, Love! Roderick Random. Chap. xl.

Facts are stubborn things.[392:1] Translation of Gil Blas. Book x. Chap. 1.

In the first days Of my distracting grief, I found myself As women wish to be who love their lords. Douglas. Act i. Sc. 1.

I 'll woo her as the lion wooes his brides. Douglas. Act i. Sc. 1.

My name is Norval; on the Grampian hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home. Douglas. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A rude and boisterous captain of the sea. Douglas. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Like Douglas conquer, or like Douglas die. Douglas. Act v. Sc. 1.

The fattest hog in Epicurus' sty.[393:1] Heroic Epistle.

Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound; She feels no biting pang the while she sings; Nor, as she turns the giddy wheel around,[393:2] Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things.[393:3] Contemplation.

All at her work the village maiden sings, Nor, while she turns the giddy wheel around.

Thus far we run before the wind. The Apprentice. Act v. Sc. 1.

Above the vulgar flight of common souls. Zenobia. Act v.

Picked up his crumbs. The Upholsterer. Act i.

The flowers of the forest are a' wide awae.[393:4] The Flowers of the Forest.

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po. The Traveller. Line 1.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee; Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. The Traveller. Line 7.

And learn the luxury of doing good.[394:1] The Traveller. Line 22.

Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view. The Traveller. Line 26.

These little things are great to little man. The Traveller. Line 42.

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine! The Traveller. Line 50.

Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam,— His first, best country ever is at home. The Traveller. Line 73.

Where wealth and freedom reign contentment fails, And honour sinks where commerce long prevails. The Traveller. Line 91.

Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. The Traveller. Line 126.

The canvas glow'd beyond ev'n Nature warm, The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form.[394:2] The Traveller. Line 137.

By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd; The sports of children satisfy the child. The Traveller. Line 153.

But winter lingering chills the lap of May. The Traveller. Line 172.

Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose, Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes. The Traveller. Line 185.

So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar But bind him to his native mountains more. The Traveller. Line 217.

Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze, And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore. The Traveller. Line 251.

They please, are pleas'd; they give to get esteem, Till seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.[395:1] The Traveller. Line 266.

Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land. The Traveller. Line 282.

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of humankind pass by.[395:2] The Traveller. Line 327.

The land of scholars and the nurse of arms. The Traveller. Line 356.

For just experience tells, in every soil, That those that think must govern those that toil. The Traveller. Line 372.

Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law. The Traveller. Line 386.

Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train, To traverse climes beyond the western main; Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around, And Niagara stuns with thundering sound. The Traveller. Line 409.

Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind. The Traveller. Line 423.

Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel.[395:3] The Traveller. Line 436.

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain. The Deserted Village. Line 1.

The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made. The Deserted Village. Line 13.

The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love. The Deserted Village. Line 29.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,— A breath can make them, as a breath has made;[396:1] But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. The Deserted Village. Line 51.

His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. The Deserted Village. Line 61.

How blest is he who crowns in shades like these A youth of labour with an age of ease! The Deserted Village. Line 99.

While Resignation gently slopes away, And all his prospects brightening to the last, His heaven commences ere the world be past. The Deserted Village. Line 110.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind. The Deserted Village. Line 121.

A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year. The Deserted Village. Line 141.

Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won. The Deserted Village. Line 157.

Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And even his failings lean'd to Virtue's side. The Deserted Village. Line 161.

And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way. The Deserted Village. Line 167.

Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.[397:1] The Deserted Village. Line 179.

Even children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile. The Deserted Village. Line 183.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,— Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head. The Deserted Village. Line 189.

Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; Full well the busy whisper circling round Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd. Yet was he kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declar'd how much he knew, 'T was certain he could write and cipher too. The Deserted Village. Line 199.

In arguing too, the parson own'd his skill, For e'en though vanquish'd he could argue still; While words of learned length and thundering sound Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around; And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew. The Deserted Village. Line 209.

Where village statesmen talk'd with looks profound, And news much older than their ale went round. The Deserted Village. Line 223.

The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door; The chest, contriv'd a double debt to pay,— A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.[397:2] The Deserted Village. Line 227.

The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose.[398:1] The Deserted Village. Line 232.

To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art. The Deserted Village. Line 253.

And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart distrusting asks if this be joy. The Deserted Village. Line 263.

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn. The Deserted Village. Line 329.

Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. The Deserted Village. Line 344.

In all the silent manliness of grief. The Deserted Village. Line 384.

O Luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree! The Deserted Village. Line 385.

Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so. The Deserted Village. Line 413.

Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It 's like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt.[398:2] The Haunch of Venison.

As aromatic plants bestow No spicy fragrance while they grow; But crush'd or trodden to the ground, Diffuse their balmy sweets around.[398:3] The Captivity. Act i.

To the last moment of his breath, On hope the wretch relies; And even the pang preceding death Bids expectation rise.[398:4] The Captivity. Act ii.

Hope, like the gleaming taper's light, Adorns and cheers our way;[399:1] And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray. The Captivity. Act ii.

Our Garrick 's a salad; for in him we see Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree! Retaliation. Line 11.

Who mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth: If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt. Retaliation. Line 24.

Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind; Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote. Who too deep for his hearers still went on refining, And thought of convincing while they thought of dining: Though equal to all things, for all things unfit; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit. Retaliation. Line 31.

His conduct still right, with his argument wrong. Retaliation. Line 46.

A flattering painter, who made it his care To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are. Retaliation. Line 63.

Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man. Retaliation. Line 93.

As a wit, if not first, in the very first line. Retaliation. Line 96.

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; 'T was only that when he was off he was acting. Retaliation. Line 101.

He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleas'd he could whistle them back. Retaliation. Line 107.

Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please. Retaliation. Line 112.

When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff, He shifted his trumpet and only took snuff. Retaliation. Line 145.

The best-humour'd man, with the worst-humour'd Muse.[400:1] Postscript.

Good people all, with one accord, Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word From those who spoke her praise. Elegy on Mrs. Mary Blaize.[400:2]

The king himself has followed her When she has walk'd before. Elegy on Mrs. Mary Blaize.

A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad When he put on his clothes. Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.

And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.

The dog, to gain his private ends, Went mad, and bit the man. Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.

The man recovered of the bite, The dog it was that died.[400:3] Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,— A cap by night, a stocking all the day.[401:1] Description of an Author's Bed-chamber.

Turn, gentle Hermit of the Dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 1.

Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them.[402:1] The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 6.

Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.[402:2] The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 8.

And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep, A shade that follows wealth or fame, And leaves the wretch to weep? The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 19.

The sigh that rends thy constant heart Shall break thy Edwin's too. The Hermit. Chap. viii. Stanza 33.

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 Hermit. On Woman. Chap. xxiv.

The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is—to die. The Hermit. On Woman. Chap. xxiv.

For he who fights and runs away May live to fight another day; But he who is in battle slain Can never rise and fight again.[403:1] The Art of Poetry on a New Plan (1761). Vol. ii. p. 147.

C'est un verre qui luit, Qu'un souffle peut détruire, et qu'un souffle a produit

On dit que dans ses amours Il fut caressé des belles, Qui le suivirent toujours, Tant qu'il marcha devant elles

All human race, from China to Peru,[403:4] Pleasure, howe'er disguis'd by art, pursue. Universal Love of Pleasure.

Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways Of hoar antiquity, but strewn with flowers. Written on a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Monasticon.

Every white will have its blacke, And every sweet its soure. Reliques of Ancient Poetry. Sir Cauline.

Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone, Wi' the auld moon in hir arme.[404:1] Sir Patrick Spens.

He that had neyther been kith nor kin Might have seen a full fayre sight. Guy of Gisborne.

Have you not heard these many years ago Jeptha was judge of Israel? He had one only daughter and no mo, The which he loved passing well; And as by lott, God wot, It so came to pass, As God's will was.[404:2] Jepthah, Judge of Israel.

A Robyn, Jolly Robyn, Tell me how thy leman does.[404:3] A Robyn, Jolly Robyn.

Where gripinge grefes the hart wounde, And dolefulle dumps the mynde oppresse, There music with her silver sound[404:4] With spede is wont to send redresse. A Song to the Lute in Musicke.

The blinded boy that shootes so trim, From heaven downe did hie.[405:1] King Cophetua and the Beggar-maid.

"What is thy name, faire maid?" quoth he. "Penelophon, O King!" quoth she.[405:2] King Cophetua and the Beggar-maid.

And how should I know your true love From many another one? Oh, by his cockle hat and staff, And by his sandal shoone. The Friar of Orders Gray.

O Lady, he is dead and gone! Lady, he 's dead and gone! And at his head a green grass turfe, And at his heels a stone.[405:3] The Friar of Orders Gray.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more! Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.[405:4] The Friar of Orders Gray.

Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrowe is in vaine; For violets pluckt, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow againe.[405:5] The Friar of Orders Gray.

He that would not when he might, He shall not when he wolda.[405:6] The Friar of Orders Gray.

We 'll shine in more substantial honours, And to be noble we 'll be good.[406:1] Winifreda (1720).

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 (1720).

King Stephen was a worthy peere, His breeches cost him but a croune; He held them sixpence all too deere, Therefore he call'd the taylor loune. He was a wight of high renowne, And those but of a low degree; Itt 's pride that putts the countrye doune, Then take thine old cloake about thee.[406:2] Take thy old Cloak about Thee.

A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree; Oh willow, willow, willow! With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee, Oh willow, willow, willow![406:3] Willow, willow, willow.

When Arthur first in court began, And was approved king.[406:4] Sir Launcelot du Lake.

Shall I bid her goe? What if I doe? Shall I bid her goe and spare not? Oh no, no, no! I dare not.[406:5] Corydon's Farewell to Phillis.

But in vayne shee did conjure him To depart her presence soe; Having a thousand tongues to allure him, And but one to bid him goe. Dulcina.

He that will not when he may, When he would, he should have nay. Cervantes: Don Quixote, part i. book iii. chap. iv.

He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone. The Rosciad. Line 322.

But, spite of all the criticising elves, Those who would make us feel—must feel themselves.[412:5] The Rosciad. Line 961.

Who to patch up his fame, or fill his purse, Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse; [413]Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, Defacing first, then claiming for his own.[413:1] The Apology. Line 232.

No statesman e'er will find it worth his pains To tax our labours and excise our brains. Night. Line 271.

Apt alliteration 's artful aid. The Prophecy of Famine. Line 86.

There webs were spread of more than common size, And half-starved spiders prey'd on half-starved flies. The Prophecy of Famine. Line 327.

With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, Preys on herself, and is destroyed by thought. Epistle to William Hogarth. Line 645.

Men the most infamous are fond of fame, And those who fear not guilt yet start at shame. The Author. Line 233.

Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.[413:2] The Farewell. Line 27.

Wherever waves can roll, and winds can blow.[413:3] The Farewell. Line 38.

Is base in kind, and born to be a slave. Table Talk. Line 28.

As if the world and they were hand and glove. Table Talk. Line 173.

Happiness depends, as Nature shows, Less on exterior things than most suppose. Table Talk. Line 246.

Freedom has a thousand charms to show, That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. Table Talk. Line 260.

Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ, The substitute for genius, sense, and wit. Table Talk. Line 542.

Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard: To carry nature lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more. Table Talk. Line 556.

Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy. Table Talk. Line 588.

Low ambition and the thirst of praise.[414:1] Table Talk. Line 591.

Made poetry a mere mechanic art. Table Talk. Line 654.

Nature, exerting an unwearied power, Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower; Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads. Table Talk. Line 690.

Lights of the world, and stars of human race. The Progress of Error. Line 97.

How much a dunce that has been sent to roam Excels a dunce that has been kept at home! The Progress of Error. Line 415.

Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true,— A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew. Truth. Line 327.

The sounding jargon of the schools.[414:2] Truth. Line 367.

When one that holds communion with the skies Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'T is e'en as if an angel shook his wings. Charity. Line 435.

A fool must now and then be right by chance. Conversation. Line 96.

He would not, with a peremptory tone, Assert the nose upon his face his own. Conversation. Line 121.

A moral, sensible, and well-bred man Will not affront me,—and no other can. Conversation. Line 193.

Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys: Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours. Conversation. Line 251.

I cannot talk with civet in the room, A fine puss-gentleman that 's all perfume. Conversation. Line 283.

The solemn fop; significant and budge; A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge.[415:1] Conversation. Line 299.

His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.[415:2] Conversation. Line 303.

Our wasted oil unprofitably burns, Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.[415:3] Conversation. Line 357.

That good diffused may more abundant grow. Conversation. Line 443.

A business with an income at its heels Furnishes always oil for its own wheels. Retirement. Line 614.

Absence of occupation is not rest, A mind quite vacant is a mind distress'd. Retirement. Line 623.

An idler is a watch that wants both hands, As useless if it goes as if it stands. Retirement. Line 681.

Built God a church, and laugh'd his word to scorn. Retirement. Line 688.

Philologists, who chase A panting syllable through time and space, Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's ark. Retirement. Line 691.

I praise the Frenchman,[416:1] his remark was shrewd,— How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet. Retirement. Line 739.

A kick that scarce would move a horse May kill a sound divine. The Yearly Distress.

I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute. Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk.

O Solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk.

But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard; Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a Sabbath appear'd. Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk.

How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged, arrows of light. Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk.

There goes the parson, O illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk. On observing some Names of Little Note.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost. Human Frailty.

And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile. The Rose.

'T is Providence alone secures In every change both mine and yours. A Fable. Moral.

I shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau If birds confabulate or no. Pairing Time Anticipated.

Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry,— Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry. Pairing Time Anticipated.

That though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind. History of John Gilpin.

A hat not much the worse for wear. History of John Gilpin.

Now let us sing, Long live the king! And Gilpin, Long live he! And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see! History of John Gilpin.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown. To an Afflicted Protestant Lady.

United yet divided, twain at once: So sit two kings of Brentford on one throne.[417:1] The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 77.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilarate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature. The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 181.

The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change And pleased with novelty, might be indulged. The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 506.

Doing good, Disinterested good, is not our trade. The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 673.

God made the country, and man made the town.[417:2] The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 749.

Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,[418:1] Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 1.

Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations who had else, Like kindred drops, been mingled into one. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 17.

I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 29.

Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free! They touch our country, and their shackles fall.[418:2] The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 40.

Fast-anchor'd isle. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 151.

England, with all thy faults I love thee still, My country![418:3] The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 206.

Presume to lay their hand upon the ark Of her magnificent and awful cause. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 231.

Praise enough To fill the ambition of a private man, That Chatham's language was his mother tongue. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 235.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains Which only poets know.[419:1] The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 285.

Transforms old print To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes Of gallery critics by a thousand arts. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 363.

Reading what they never wrote, Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 411.

Whoe'er was edified, themselves were not. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 444.

Variety 's the very spice of life.[419:2] The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 606.

She that asks Her dear five hundred friends. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 642.

His head, Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er, Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth, But strong for service still, and unimpair'd. The Task. Book ii. The Timepiece. Line 702.

Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of Paradise that has survived the fall! The Task. Book iii. The Garden. Line 41.

Great contest follows, and much learned dust. The Task. Book iii. The Garden. Line 161.

From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up.[419:3] The Task. Book iii. The Garden. Line 188.

How various his employments whom the world Calls idle, and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too! The Task. Book iii. The Garden. Line 352.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too. The Task. Book iii. The Garden. Line 566.

I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free, And give them voice and utterance once again. Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate[420:1] wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 34.

Which not even critics criticise. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 51.

What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns? The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 55.

And Katerfelto, with his hair on end At his own wonders, wondering for his bread. 'T is pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world,—to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 86.

While fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 118.

O Winter, ruler of the inverted year![420:2] The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 120.

With spots quadrangular of diamond form, Ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, And spades, the emblems of untimely graves. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 217.

In indolent vacuity of thought. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 297.

It seems the part of wisdom. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 336.

All learned, and all drunk! The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 478.

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening, Line 510.

Those golden times And those Arcadian scenes that Maro sings, And Sidney, warbler of poetic prose. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 514.

The Frenchman's darling.[421:1] The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 765.

Some must be great. Great offices will have Great talents. And God gives to every man The virtue, temper, understanding, taste, That lifts him into life, and lets him fall Just in the niche he was ordain'd to fill. The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 788.

Silently as a dream the fabric rose, No sound of hammer or of saw was there.[421:2] The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 144.

But war 's a game which were their subjects wise Kings would not play at. The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 187.

The beggarly last doit. The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 316.

As dreadful as the Manichean god, Adored through fear, strong only to destroy. The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 444.

He is the freeman whom the truth makes free. The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 733.

With filial confidence inspired, Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say, My Father made them all! The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 745.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor; And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away. The Task. Book v. The Winter Morning Walk. Line 905.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased. [422]With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies. How soft the music of those village bells Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet! The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 1.

Here the heart May give a useful lesson to the head, And Learning wiser grow without his books. The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 85.

Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. Books are not seldom talismans and spells. The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 96.

Some to the fascination of a name Surrender judgment hoodwink'd. The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 101.

I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polish'd manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 560.

An honest man, close-button'd to the chin, Broadcloth without, and a warm heart within. Epistle to Joseph Hill.

Shine by the side of every path we tread With such a lustre, he that runs may read.[422:1] Tirocinium. Line 79.

What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill. Walking with God.

And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees. Exhortation to Prayer.

God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm. Light shining out of Darkness.

Behind a frowning providence He hides a shining face. Light shining out of Darkness.

Beware of desperate steps! The darkest day, Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away. The Needless Alarm. Moral.

Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd With me but roughly since I heard thee last. On the Receipt of my Mother's Picture.

The son of parents pass'd into the skies. On the Receipt of my Mother's Picture.

The man that hails you Tom or Jack, And proves, by thumping on your back,[423:1] His sense of your great merit,[423:2] Is such a friend that one had need Be very much his friend indeed To pardon or to bear it. On Friendship.

A worm is in the bud of youth, And at the root of age. Stanzas subjoined to a Bill of Mortality.

Toll for the brave!— The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore! On the Loss of the Royal George.

There is a bird who by his coat, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow. The Jackdaw. (Translation from Vincent Bourne.)

He sees that this great roundabout The world, with all its motley rout, Church, army, physic, law, Its customs and its businesses, Is no concern at all of his, And says—what says he?—Caw. The Jackdaw. (Translation from Vincent Bourne.)

For 't is a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost, We seek it, ere it come to light, In every cranny but the right. The Retired Cat.

He that holds fast the golden mean,[424:1] And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door. Translation of Horace. Book ii. Ode x.

But strive still to be a man before your mother.[424:2] Connoisseur. Motto of No. iii.

Soon shall thy arm, unconquer'd 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. Part i. Canto i. Line 289.

No radiant pearl which crested Fortune wears, No gem that twinkling hangs from Beauty's ears, Not the bright stars which Night's blue arch adorn, Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn, Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows Down Virtue's manly cheek for others' woes. The Botanic Garden. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 459.

In sober state, Through the sequestered vale of rural life, The venerable patriarch guileless held The tenor of his way.[425:1] Death. Line 108.

One murder made a villain, Millions a hero. Princes were privileged To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime.[425:2] Death. Line 154.

War its thousands slays, Peace its ten thousands. Death. Line 178.

Teach him how to live, And, oh still harder lesson! how to die.[425:3] Death. Line 316.

Then join in hand, brave Americans all! By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall. The Liberty Song (1768).

Our cause is just, our union is perfect. Declaration on taking up Arms in 1775.[426:2]

The dews of summer nights did fall, The moon, sweet regent of the sky,[426:3] Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall And many an oak that grew thereby. Cumnor Hall.

For there 's nae luck about the house, There 's nae luck at a'; [427]There 's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman 's awa'. The Mariner's Wife.[427:1]

His very foot has music in 't As he comes up the stairs. The Mariner's Wife.

Cold on Canadian hills or Minden's plain, Perhaps that parent mourned her soldier slain; Bent o'er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew, The big drops mingling with the milk he drew Gave the sad presage of his future years,— The child of misery, baptized in tears.[427:2] The Country Justice. Part i.

Hope! thou nurse of young desire. Love in a Village. Act i. Sc. 1.

There was a jolly miller once, Lived on the river Dee; He worked and sung from morn till night: No lark more blithe than he. Love in a Village. Act i. Sc. 2.

And this the burden of his song Forever used to be,— I care for nobody, no, not I, If no one cares for me.[427:3] Love in a Village. Act i. Sc. 2.

Ah, who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar? The Minstrel. Book i. Stanza 1.

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free; Patient of toil, serene amidst alarms; Inflexible in faith, invincible in arms. The Minstrel. Book i. Stanza 11.

Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime. The Minstrel. Book i. Stanza 25.

Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down, Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrewn, Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave; And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave! The Minstrel. Book ii. Stanza 17.

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove. The Hermit.

He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man. The Hermit.

But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn? Oh when shall it dawn on the night of the grave? The Hermit.

By the glare of false science betray'd, That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind. The Hermit.

And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb. The Hermit.

What rage for fame attends both great and small! Better be damned than mentioned not at all. To the Royal Academicians.

No, let the monarch's bags and others hold The flattering, mighty, nay, al-mighty gold.[431:3] To Kien Long. Ode iv.

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt, And every grin so merry draws one out. Expostulatory Odes. Ode xv.

A fellow in a market town, Most musical, cried razors up and down. Farewell Odes. Ode iii.

The tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground: 'T was therefore said by ancient sages, That love of life increased with years So much, that in our latter stages, When pain grows sharp and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears. Three Warnings.

Solid men of Boston, banish long potations! Solid men of Boston, make no long orations![432:1] Pitt and Dundas's Return to London from Wimbledon. American Song. From Lyra Urbanica.

O give me the sweet shady side of Pall Mall! Town and Country.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee. Salvation through Christ.

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh give relief, and Heaven will bless your store. The Beggar.

A pampered menial drove me from the door.[433:1] The Beggar.

Man is the nobler growth our realms supply, And souls are ripened in our northern sky. The Invitation.

This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars. A Summer's Evening Meditation.

Life! we 've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'T is hard to part when friends are dear,— Perhaps 't will cost a sigh, a tear; Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not "Good night," but in some brighter clime Bid me "Good morning." Life.

So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day;[434:1] So dies a wave along the shore. The Death of the Virtuous.

There 's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, To keep watch for the life of poor Jack. Poor Jack.

Did you ever hear of Captain Wattle? He was all for love, and a little for the bottle. Captain Wattle and Miss Roe.

His form was of the manliest beauty, His heart was kind and soft; Faithful below he did his duty, But now he 's gone aloft. Tom Bowling.

For though his body 's under hatches, His soul has gone aloft. Tom Bowling.

Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly, Though winds blew great guns, still he 'd whistle and sing; Jack loved his friend, and was true to his Molly, And if honour gives greatness, was great as a king. The Sailor's Consolation.[436:2]

To those who know thee not, no words can paint! And those who know thee, know all words are faint! Sensibility.

Since trifles make the sum of human things, And half our misery from our foibles springs. Sensibility.

In men this blunder still you find,— All think their little set mankind. Florio. Part i.

Small habits well pursued betimes May reach the dignity of crimes. Florio. Part i.

Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. A Persian Song of Hafiz.

Go boldly forth, my simple lay, Whose accents flow with artless ease, Like orient pearls at random strung.[437:2] A Persian Song of Hafiz.

On parent knees, a naked new-born child, Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled; So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep, Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep. From the Persian.

What constitutes a state? . . . . . . . Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain. . . . . . . . And sovereign law, that state's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.[438:1] Ode in Imitation of Alcæus.

Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.[438:2]

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year. To the Cuckoo.

Oh could I fly, I 'd fly with thee! We 'd make with joyful wing Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the spring. To the Cuckoo.

No pent-up Utica contracts your powers, But the whole boundless continent is yours. Epilogue to Cato.[439:1]

A man's ingress into the world is naked and bare, His progress through the world is trouble and care; And lastly, his egress out of the world, is nobody knows where. If we do well here, we shall do well there: I can tell you no more if I preach a whole year.[439:2] The Eccentricities of John Edwin (second edition), vol. i. p. 74. London, 1791.

But optics sharp it needs, I ween, To see what is not to be seen. McFingal. Canto i. Line 67.

But as some muskets so contrive it As oft to miss the mark they drive at, And though well aimed at duck or plover, Bear wide, and kick their owners over. McFingal. Canto i. Line 93.

As though there were a tie And obligation to posterity. We get them, bear them, breed, and nurse: What has posterity done for us [440]That we, lest they their rights should lose, Should trust our necks to gripe of noose? McFingal. Canto ii. Line 121.

No man e'er felt the halter draw, With good opinion of the law. McFingal. Canto iii. Line 489.