FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. (continued 8)

Here 's to the maiden of bashful fifteen; Here 's to the widow of fifty; Here 's to the flaunting, extravagant quean, And here 's to the housewife that 's thrifty! Let the toast pass; Drink to the lass; I 'll warrant she 'll prove an excuse for the glass. School for Scandal. Act iii. Sc. 3.

I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip. The Duenna. Act i. Sc. 2.

Had I a heart for falsehood framed, I ne'er could injure you. The Duenna. Act i. Sc. 5.

While his off-heel, insidiously aside. Provokes the caper which he seems to chide. Pizarro. The Prologue.

You write with ease to show your breeding, But easy writing 's curst hard reading. Clio's Protest. Life of Sheridan (Moore). Vol. i. p. 155.

The hunter and the deer a shade.[443:3] The Indian Burying-Ground.

Then rushed to meet the insulting foe; They took the spear, but left the shield.[443:4] To the Memory of the Americans who fell at Eutaw.

Oh, rather give me commentators plain, Who with no deep researches vex the brain; Who from the dark and doubtful love to run, And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.[443:5] The Parish Register. Part i. Introduction.

Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd; The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, And ease of heart her every look convey'd. The Parish Register. Part ii. Marriages.

In this fool's paradise he drank delight.[444:1] The Borough. Letter xii. Players.

Books cannot always please, however good; Minds are not ever craving for their food. The Borough. Letter xxiv. Schools.

In idle wishes fools supinely stay; Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way. The Birth of Flattery.

Cut and come again. Tales. Tale vii. The Widow's Tale.

Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.[444:2] Tales. Tale xiv. The Struggles of Conscience.

But 't was a maxim he had often tried, That right was right, and there he would abide.[444:3] Tales. Tale xv. The Squire and the Priest.

'T was good advice, and meant, my son, Be good. Tales. Tale xxi. The Learned Boy.

He tried the luxury of doing good.[444:4] Tales of the Hall. Book iii. Boys at School.

To sigh, yet not recede; to grieve, yet not repent.[444:5] Tales of the Hall. Book iii. Boys at School.

And took for truth the test of ridicule.[444:6] Tales of the Hall. Book viii. The Sisters.

Time has touched me gently in his race, And left no odious furrows in my face.[445:1] Tales of the Hall. Book xvii. The Widow.

Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently. Longfellow: The Golden Legend, iv.

True patriots all; for be it understood We left our country for our country's good.[445:2] Prologue written for the Opening of the Play-house at New South Wales, Jan. 16, 1796.

Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love, But—why did you kick me down stairs?[445:4] The Panel. Act i. Sc. 1.

Auld Nature swears the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O; Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O![446:2] Green grow the Rashes.

Some books are lies frae end to end. Death and Dr. Hornbook.

Some wee short hours ayont the twal. Death and Dr. Hornbook.

The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft a-gley; And leave us naught but grief and pain For promised joy. To a Mouse.

When chill November's surly blast Made fields and forests bare. Man was made to Mourn.

Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn. Man was made to Mourn.

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel 's the new. The Cotter's Saturday Night.

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale. The Cotter's Saturday Night.

He wales a portion with judicious care; And "Let us worship God," he says with solemn air. The Cotter's Saturday Night.

Perhaps Dundee's wild-warbling measures rise, Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name. The Cotter's Saturday Night.

From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, "An honest man 's the noblest work of God."[447:1] The Cotter's Saturday Night.

For a' that, and a' that, And twice as muckle 's a' that. The Jolly Beggars.

O Life! how pleasant is thy morning, Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning! Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning, We frisk away, Like schoolboys at th' expected warning, To joy and play. Epistle to James Smith.

Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven. The Vision.

And like a passing thought, she fled In light away. The Vision.

Affliction's sons are brothers in distress; A brother to relieve,—how exquisite the bliss! A Winter Night.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar Showed him the gentleman and scholar. The Twa Dogs.

And there began a lang digression About the lords o' the creation. The Twa Dogs.

Oh wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursel's as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us, And foolish notion. To a Louse.

Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Though they may gang a kennin' wrang, To step aside is human.[448:1] Address to the Unco Guid.

What 's done we partly may compute, But know not what 's resisted. Address to the Unco Guid.

Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom.[448:2] To a Mountain Daisy.

O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I! Despondency.

Perhaps it may turn out a sang, Perhaps turn out a sermon. Epistle to a Young Friend.

I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing; But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling! Epistle to a Young Friend.

The fear o' hell 's a hangman's whip To haud the wretch in order;[448:3] But where ye feel your honour grip, Let that aye be your border. Epistle to a Young Friend.

An atheist's laugh 's a poor exchange For Deity offended! Epistle to a Young Friend.

And may you better reck the rede,[448:4] Than ever did the adviser! Epistle to a Young Friend.

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes; Flow gently, I 'll sing thee a song in thy praise. Flow gently, sweet Afton.

Oh whistle, and I 'll come to ye, my lad.[449:1] Whistle, and I 'll come to ye.

If naebody care for me, I 'll care for naebody.[449:2] I hae a Wife o' my Ain.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne? Auld Lang Syne.

We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine. Auld Lang Syne.

Dweller in yon dungeon dark, Hangman of creation, mark! Who in widow weeds appears, Laden with unhonoured years, Noosing with care a bursting purse, Baited with many a deadly curse? Ode on Mrs. Oswald.

To make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife,— That 's the true pathos and sublime Of human life. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock.

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 Captain Grose's Peregrinations through Scotland.

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonny brow was brent. John Anderson.

My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart 's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.[450:1] My Heart 's in the Highlands.

She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine. My Wife 's a Winsome Wee Thing.

The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Highland Mary.

But, oh! fell death's untimely frost That nipt my flower sae early. Highland Mary.

It 's guid to be merry and wise,[450:2] It 's guid to be honest and true, It 's guid to support Caledonia's cause, And bide by the buff and the blue. Here 's a Health to Them that 's Awa'.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now 's the day and now 's the hour; See the front o' battle lour. Bannockburn.

Liberty 's in every blow! Let us do or die.[450:3] Bannockburn.

In durance vile[450:4] here must I wake and weep, And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep. Epistle from Esopus to Maria.

Oh, my luve 's like a red, red rose, That 's newly sprung in June; Oh, my luve 's like the melodie That 's sweetly played in tune. A Red, Red Rose.

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair. Contented wi' Little.

Where sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. Tam o' Shanter.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet To think how monie counsels sweet, How monie lengthened sage advices, The husband frae the wife despises. Tam o' Shanter.

His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither,— They had been fou for weeks thegither. Tam o' Shanter.

The landlady and Tam grew gracious Wi' favours secret, sweet, and precious. Tam o' Shanter.

The landlord's laugh was ready chorus. Tam o' Shanter.

Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O'er a' the ills o' life victorious. Tam o' Shanter.

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever. Tam o' Shanter.

Nae man can tether time or tide.[451:1] Tam o' Shanter.

That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane. Tam o' Shanter.

Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Tam o' Shanter.

As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious. Tam o' Shanter.

But to see her was to love her,[452:1] Love but her, and love forever. Ae Fond Kiss.

Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted! Ae Fond Kiss.

To see her is to love her, And love but her forever; For Nature made her what she is, And never made anither! Bonny Lesley.

Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care? The Banks of Doon.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe. Sweet Sensibility.

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man 's the gowd for a' that.[452:2] For a' that and a' that.

A prince can make a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that; But an honest man 's aboon his might, Guid faith, he maunna fa' that.[452:3] For a' that and a' that.

'T is sweeter for thee despairing Than aught in the world beside,—Jessy! Jessy.

Some hae meat and canna eat, And some would eat that want it; But we hae meat, and we can eat, Sae let the Lord be thankit. Grace before Meat.

It was a' for our rightfu' King We left fair Scotland's strand. A' for our Rightfu' King.[452:4]

Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain. A' for our Rightfu' King.

He turn'd him right and round about Upon the Irish shore, And gae his bridle reins a shake, With, "Adieu for evermore, my dear, And adieu for evermore."[453:1] A' for our Rightfu' King.

He turn'd his charger as he spake, Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle reins a shake, Said, "Adieu for evermore, my love, And adieu for evermore."

Prostrate the beauteous ruin lies; and all That shared its shelter perish in its fall. The Poetry of the Anti-Jacobin. No. xxxvi.

Loud roared the dreadful thunder, The rain a deluge showers. The Bay of Biscay.

As she lay, on that day, In the bay of Biscay, O! The Bay of Biscay.

On their own merits modest men are dumb. Epilogue to the Heir at Law.

And what 's impossible can't be, And never, never comes to pass. The Maid of the Moor.

Three stories high, long, dull, and old, As great lords' stories often are. The Maid of the Moor.

Like two single gentlemen rolled into one. Lodgings for Single Gentlemen.

But when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed. Lodgings for Single Gentlemen.

When taken, To be well shaken. The Newcastle Apothecary.

O Miss Bailey! Unfortunate Miss Bailey! Love laughs at Locksmiths. Act ii. Song.

'T is a very fine thing to be father-in-law To a very magnificent three-tailed Bashaw! Blue Beard. Act ii. Sc. 5.

Mynheer Vandunck, though he never was drunk, Sipped brandy and water gayly. Mynheer Vandunck.

Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.[454:1] The Village Curate.

Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail. The Pleasures of Memory. Part ii. i.

She was good as she was fair, None—none on earth above her! As pure in thought as angels are: To know her was to love her.[455:1] Jacqueline. Stanza 1.

The good are better made by ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still.[455:2] Jacqueline. Stanza 3.

A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing. Human Life.

Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please. Human Life.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour A thousand melodies unheard before! Human Life.

Then never less alone than when alone.[455:3] Human Life.

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before,[455:4]— He gathers round him. Human Life.

Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. A Wish.

That very law which moulds a tear And bids it trickle from its source,— That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course. On a Tear.

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 ——.

To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.[456:1] Pæstum.

Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it: He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it. Epigram.

The princeps copy, clad in blue and gold. Illustrations of Sterne. Bibliomania. Line 6.

Now cheaply bought for thrice their weight in gold. Illustrations of Sterne. Bibliomania. Line 65.

Torn from their destined page (unworthy meed Of knightly counsel and heroic deed). Illustrations of Sterne. Bibliomania. Line 121.

How pure the joy, when first my hands unfold The small, rare volume, black with tarnished gold! Illustrations of Sterne. Bibliomania. Line 137.

Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns, And as the portal opens to receive me, A voice in hollow murmurs through the courts Tells of a nameless deed.[456:2]

There 's nae sorrow there, John, There 's neither cauld nor care, John, The day is aye fair, In the land o' the leal. The Land o' the Leal.

Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'. Gude Nicht, etc.[458:1]

Oh, we 're a' noddin', nid, nid, noddin'; Oh, we 're a' noddin' at our house at hame. We 're a' Noddin'.

A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree. The Laird o' Cockpen.

This hand, to tyrants ever sworn the foe, For Freedom only deals the deadly blow; Then sheathes in calm repose the vengeful blade, For gentle peace in Freedom's hallowed shade.[459:1] Written in an Album, 1842.

You 'd scarce expect one of my age To speak in public on the stage; And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero, Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my imperfections by. Large streams from little fountains flow, Tall oaks from little acorns grow.[459:2] Lines written for a School Declamation.

Serenely full, the epicure would say, Fate cannot harm me,—I have dined to-day.[461:2] Recipe for Salad. P. 374.

And don't confound the language of the nation With long-tailed words in osity and ation. The Monks and the Giants. Canto i. Line 6.

The man that lays his hand upon a woman, Save in the way of kindness, is a wretch Whom 't were gross flattery to name a coward. The Honeymoon. Act ii. Sc. 1.

She 's adorned Amply that in her husband's eye looks lovely,— The truest mirror that an honest wife Can see her beauty in. The Honeymoon. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir. The Friend of Humanity and the Knife-Grinder.

I give thee sixpence! I will see thee damned first. The Friend of Humanity and the Knife-Grinder.

So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides The Derby dilly, carrying three INSIDES. The Loves of the Triangles. Line 178.

And finds, with keen, discriminating sight, Black 's not so black,—nor white so very white. New Morality.

Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe, Bold I can meet,—perhaps may turn his blow! But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send, Save, save, oh save me from the candid friend![464:1] New Morality.

No, here 's to the pilot that weathered the storm! The Pilot that weathered the Storm.

Too late I stayed,—forgive the crime! Unheeded flew the hours; How noiseless falls the foot of time[464:2] That only treads on flowers. Lines to Lady A. Hamilton.

Hail, Columbia! happy land! Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band! Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, And when the storm of war was gone, Enjoyed the peace your valor won. Let independence be our boast, Ever mindful what it cost; Ever grateful for the prize, Let its altar reach the skies! Hail, Columbia!

Oh, be wiser thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love. Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food. Guilt and Sorrow. Stanza 41.

Action is transitory,—a step, a blow; The motion of a muscle, this way or that. The Borderers. Act iii.

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on, Through words and things, a dim and perilous way.[465:2] The Borderers. Act iv. Sc. 2.

A simple child That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? We are Seven.

O Reader! Had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything. Simon Lee.

I 've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning. Simon Lee.

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. Lines written in Early Spring.

And 't is my faith, that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. Lines written in Early Spring.

Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness. Expostulation and Reply.

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble? The Tables Turned.

Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher. The Tables Turned.

One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. The Tables Turned.

The bane of all that dread the Devil. The Idiot Boy.

Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

That best portion of a good man's life,— His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

That blessed mood, In which the burden of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite,—a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm By thoughts supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

A sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air And the blue sky, and in the mind of man,— A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel No self-reproach. The Old Cumberland Beggar.

As in the eye of Nature he has lived, So in the eye of Nature let him die! The Old Cumberland Beggar.

There 's something in a flying horse, There 's something in a huge balloon. Peter Bell. Prologue. Stanza 1.

The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,—her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears. Peter Bell. Prologue. Stanza 27.

Full twenty times was Peter feared, For once that Peter was respected. Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 3.

A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more. Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 12.

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky! Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 15.

On a fair prospect some have looked, And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away. Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 16.

As if the man had fixed his face, In many a solitary place, Against the wind and open sky! Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 26.[468:1]

One of those heavenly days that cannot die. Nutting.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove,— A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love. She dwelt among the untrodden ways.

A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye; Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She dwelt among the untrodden ways.

She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh The difference to me! She dwelt among the untrodden ways.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. Three years she grew in Sun and Shower.

May no rude hand deface it, And its forlorn hic jacet! Ellen Irwin.

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy. The Sparrow's Nest.

The child is father of the man.[469:1] My heart leaps up when I behold.

The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one! The Cock is crowing.

Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now. To a Butterfly. I 've watched you now a full half-hour.

Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,— Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me. To the Small Celandine.

As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low. Resolution and Independence. Stanza 4.

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all? Resolution and Independence. Stanza 6.

I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness. Resolution and Independence. Stanza 7.

That heareth not the loud winds when they call, And moveth all together, if it moves at all. Resolution and Independence. Stanza 11.

Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men. Resolution and Independence. Stanza 14.

And mighty poets in their misery dead. Resolution and Independence. Stanza 17.

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still! Earth has not anything to show more fair.

The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration. It is a beauteous Evening.

Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away. On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic.

Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,—air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.[471:1] To Toussaint L' Ouverture.

One that would peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave. A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 5.

He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own. A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 10.

And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love. A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 11.

The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart. A Poet's Epitaph. Stanza 13.

Yet sometimes, when the secret cup Of still and serious thought went round, It seemed as if he drank it up, He felt with spirit so profound. Matthew.

My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. The Fountain.

A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free. The Fountain.

And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore. The Fountain.

The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door. Lucy Gray. Stanza 2.

A youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven. Ruth.

Until a man might travel twelve stout miles, Or reap an acre of his neighbor's corn. The Brothers.

Something between a hindrance and a help. Michael.

Drink, pretty creature, drink! The Pet Lamb.

Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance. A narrow Girdle of rough Stones and Crags.

And he is oft the wisest man Who is not wise at all. The Oak and the Broom.

"A jolly place," said he, "in times of old! But something ails it now: the spot is cursed." Hart-leap Well. Part ii.

Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream. Hart-leap Well. Part ii.

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels. Hart-leap Well. Part ii.

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. O Friend! I know not which way I must look.

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee! . . . . . Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: So didst thou travel on life's common way In cheerful godliness. London, 1802.

We must be free or die who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake, the faith and morals hold Which Milton held. It is not to be thought of.

A noticeable man, with large gray eyes. Stanzas written in Thomson's Castle of Indolence.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted. To the Daisy.

The poet's darling. To the Daisy.

Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature. To the same Flower.

Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose type of things through all degrees. To the same Flower.

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever. Thoughts suggested on the Banks of the Nith.

The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive! Thoughts suggested on the Banks of the Nith.

For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago. The Solitary Reaper.

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again. The Solitary Reaper.

The music in my heart I bore Long after it was heard no more. The Solitary Reaper.

Yon foaming flood seems motionless as ice; Its dizzy turbulence eludes the eye, Frozen by distance. Address to Kilchurn Castle.

A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer's joy. Rob Roy's Grave.

Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,—the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can. Rob Roy's Grave.

The Eagle, he was lord above, And Rob was lord below. Rob Roy's Grave.

A brotherhood of venerable trees. Sonnet composed at —— Castle.

Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow; The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow! Yarrow Unvisited.

Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath. These Times strike Monied Worldlings.

A remnant of uneasy light. The Matron of Jedborough.

Oh for a single hour of that Dundee Who on that day the word of onset gave![474:1] Sonnet, in the Pass of Killicranky.

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice? To the Cuckoo.

She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight, A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilights too her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn. She was a Phantom of Delight.

A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. She was a Phantom of Delight.

The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command. She was a Phantom of Delight.

That inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude. I wandered lonely.

To be a Prodigal's favourite,—then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,—behold our lot! The Small Celandine.

Stern Daughter of the Voice of God![475:1] Ode to Duty.

A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove. Ode to Duty.

Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live! Ode to Duty.

The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream. Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm. Stanza 4.

Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made. To a Young Lady. Dear Child of Nature.

But an old age serene and bright, And lovely as a Lapland night, Shall lead thee to thy grave. To a Young Lady. Dear Child of Nature.

Where the statue stood Of Newton, with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone. The Prelude. Book iii.

Another morn Risen on mid-noon.[476:1] The Prelude. Book vi.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven! The Prelude. Book xi.

The budding rose above the rose full blown. The Prelude. Book xi.

There is One great society alone on earth: The noble living and the noble dead. The Prelude. Book xi.

Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,—miserable train!— Turns his necessity to glorious gain. Character of the Happy Warrior.

Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives. Character of the Happy Warrior.

But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for humankind, Is happy as a lover. Character of the Happy Warrior.

And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw. Character of the Happy Warrior.

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray. Character of the Happy Warrior.

Like,—but oh how different! Yes, it was the Mountain Echo.

The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours. Miscellaneous Sonnets. Part i. xxxiii.

Great God! I 'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn, So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; [477]Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. Miscellaneous Sonnets. Part i. xxxiii.

Maidens withering on the stalk.[477:1] Personal Talk. Stanza 1.

Sweetest melodies Are those that are by distance made more sweet.[477:2] Personal Talk. Stanza 2.

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good. Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow. Personal Talk. Stanza 3.

The gentle Lady married to the Moor, And heavenly Una with her milk-white lamb. Personal Talk. Stanza 3.

Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares!— The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays. Personal Talk. Stanza 4.

A power is passing from the earth. Lines on the expected Dissolution of Mr. Fox.

The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 2.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 2.

Where is it now, the glory and the dream? Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 5.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory, do we come From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 5.

At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 5.

The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 9.

Those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings, Blank misgivings of a creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 9.

Truths that wake, To perish never. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 9.

Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 9.

Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 10.

In years that bring the philosophic mind. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 10.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 11.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Ode. Intimations of Immortality. Stanza 11.

Two voices are there: one is of the sea, One of the mountains,—each a mighty voice. Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland.

Earth helped him with the cry of blood.[478:1] Song at the Feast of Broughton Castle.

The silence that is in the starry sky. Song at the Feast of Broughton Castle.

The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly personage; A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height. The White Doe of Rylstone. Canto iii.

"What is good for a bootless bene?" With these dark words begins my tale; And their meaning is, Whence can comfort spring When prayer is of no avail? Force of Prayer.

A few strong instincts, and a few plain rules. Alas! what boots the long laborious Quest?

Of blessed consolations in distress. Preface to the Excursion. (Edition, 1814.)

The vision and the faculty divine; Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse. The Excursion. Book i.

The imperfect offices of prayer and praise. The Excursion. Book i.

That mighty orb of song, The divine Milton. The Excursion. Book i.

The good die first,[479:1] And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket. The Excursion. Book i.

This dull product of a scoffer's pen. The Excursion. Book ii.

With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars. The Excursion. Book ii.

Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar. The Excursion. Book iii.

Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged. The Excursion. Book iii.

Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial. The Excursion. Book iii.

The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way![480:1] The Excursion. Book iii.

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children. The Excursion. Book iii.

And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. The Excursion. Book iv.

There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast. The Excursion. Book iv.

Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul. The Excursion. Book iv.

Pan himself, The simple shepherd's awe-inspiring god! The Excursion. Book iv.

I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell, To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy, for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with his native sea.[480:2] The Excursion. Book iv.

So build we up the being that we are. The Excursion. Book iv.

One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition. The Excursion. Book iv.

Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."[481:1] The Excursion. Book vi.

Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,—render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod! The Excursion. Book vi.

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. Book vii.

Wisdom married to immortal verse.[481:2] The Excursion. Book vii.

A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident to-morrows. The Excursion. Book vii.

The primal duties shine aloft, like stars; The charities that soothe and heal and bless Are scattered at the feet of man like flowers. The Excursion. Book ix.

By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same![481:3] The Excursion. Book ix.

The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul. Laodamia.

Mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is Love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favorite seat be feeble woman's breast. Laodamia.

Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place. Laodamia.

He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,— The past unsighed for, and the future sure. Laodamia.

Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty; more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams. Laodamia.

Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone. Laodamia.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call Will not depart when mortal voices bid. Dion.

But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation. Yarrow Visited.

'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind. Weak is the Will of Man.

We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument In working out a pure intent. Ode. Imagination before Content.

Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness. Ode to Lycoris.

That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair. Lament of Mary Queen of Scots.

The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled; And Shakespeare at his side,—a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world! The Italian Itinerant.

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth. Sky-Prospect from the Plain of France.

Turning, for them who pass, the common dust Of servile opportunity to gold. Desultory Stanza.

Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her. Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part i. xxv. Missions and Travels.

As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accursed An emblem yields to friends and enemies How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.[483:1] Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part ii. xvii. To Wickliffe.

The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.[484:1] Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part iii. v. Walton's Book of Lives.

Meek Walton's heavenly memory. Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part iii. v. Walton's Book of Lives.

But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant. Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part iii. vii. Persecution of the Scottish Covenanters.

Where music dwells Lingering and wandering on as loth to die, Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality. Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part iii. xliii. Inside of King's Chapel, Cambridge.

Or shipwrecked, kindles on the coast False fires, that others may be lost. To the Lady Fleming.

But hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things. Elegiac Stanzas. Addressed to Sir G. H. B.

To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the mind that builds for aye. A Volant Tribe of Bards on Earth.

Soft is the music that would charm forever; The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly. Not Love, not War.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved. To ——. Let other Bards of Angels sing.

Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home. To a Skylark.

A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave! Ere with Cold Beads of Midnight Dew.

Scorn not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart.[485:1] Scorn not the Sonnet.

And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains,—alas! too few. Scorn not the Sonnet.

But he is risen, a later star of dawn. A Morning Exercise.

Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark. A Morning Exercise.

When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone. The Triad.

Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go! The Triad.

Stern Winter loves a dirge-like sound. On the Power of Sound. xii.

The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift. Presentiments.

Nature's old felicities. The Trosachs.

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love. Poems composed during a Tour in the Summer of 1833. xxxvii.

Small service is true service while it lasts. Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one: The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun. To a Child. Written in her Album.

Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth. Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg.

How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land! Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg.

Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history? Memorials of a Tour in Italy. iv.

How does the meadow-flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free Down to its root, and in that freedom bold. A Poet! He hath put his Heart to School.

Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive. Yes, Thou art Fair.

Is it a party in a parlour? Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,— Some sipping punch, some sipping tea, But, as you by their faces see, All silent and all damned.

Oh for one hour of blind old Dandolo, The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe! Byron: Childe Harold, canto iv. stanza 12.

Quem Di diligunt Adolescens moritur (He whom the gods favor dies in youth). Plautus: Bacchides, act iv. sc. 7.

"'The Avon to the Severn runs, The Severn to the sea; And Wickliffe's dust shall spread abroad Wide as the waters be.'" Daniel Webster: Address before the Sons of New Hampshire, 1849.

Such is the custom of Branksome Hall. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto i. Stanza 7.

If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moonlight. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto ii. Stanza 1.

O fading honours of the dead! O high ambition, lowly laid! Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto ii. Stanza 10.

I was not always a man of woe. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto ii. Stanza 12.

I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as 't was said to me. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto ii. Stanza 22.

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below and saints above; For love is heaven, and heaven is love. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto iii. Stanza 1.

Her blue eyes sought the west afar, For lovers love the western star. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto iii. Stanza 24.

Along thy wild and willow'd shore. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto iv. Stanza 1.

Ne'er Was flattery lost on poet's ear; A simple race! they waste their toil For the vain tribute of a smile. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto iv. Stanza 35.

Call it not vain: they do not err Who say that when the poet dies Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto v. Stanza 1.

True love 's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart and mind to mind In body and in soul can bind. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto v. Stanza 13.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd[488:1] As home his footsteps he hath turn'd From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well! For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,— Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.[488:2] Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto vi. Stanza 1.

O Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood; Land of the mountain and the flood! Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto vi. Stanza 2.

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line. Marmion. Introduction to Canto i.

Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth. Marmion. Introduction to Canto ii.

When, musing on companions gone, We doubly feel ourselves alone. Marmion. Introduction to Canto ii.

'T is an old tale and often told; But did my fate and wish agree, Ne'er had been read, in story old, Of maiden true betray'd for gold, That loved, or was avenged, like me. Marmion. Canto ii. Stanza 27.

When Prussia hurried to the field, And snatch'd the spear, but left the shield.[489:1] Marmion. Introduction to Canto iii.

In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying. Marmion. Canto iii. Stanza 11.

Where 's the coward that would not dare To fight for such a land? Marmion. Canto iv. Stanza 30.

Lightly from fair to fair he flew, And loved to plead, lament, and sue; Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. Marmion. Canto v. Stanza 9.

With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.[489:2] Marmion. Canto v. Stanza 12.

But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men. Marmion. Canto v. Stanza 16.

And dar'st thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall? Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 14.

Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive! Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 17.

O woman! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou![490:1] Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 30.

"Charge, Chester, charge! on, Stanley, on!" Were the last words of Marmion. Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 32.

Oh for a blast of that dread horn[490:2] On Fontarabian echoes borne! Marmion. Canto vi. Stanza 33.

To all, to each, a fair good-night, And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light. L' Envoy. To the Reader.

In listening mood she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand. Lady of the Lake. Canto i. Stanza 17.

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace Of finer form or lovelier face. Lady of the Lake. Canto i. Stanza 18.

A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew. Lady of the Lake. Canto i. Stanza 18.

On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage, Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth: Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare. Lady of the Lake. Canto i. Stanza 21.

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil nor night of waking. Lady of the Lake. Canto i. Stanza 31.

Hail to the chief who in triumph advances! Lady of the Lake. Canto ii. Stanza 19.

Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven. Lady of the Lake. Canto ii. Stanza 22.

Time rolls his ceaseless course. Lady of the Lake. Canto iii. Stanza 1.

Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and forever! Lady of the Lake. Canto iii. Stanza 16.

The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears. Lady of the Lake. Canto iv. Stanza 1.

Art thou a friend to Roderick? Lady of the Lake. Canto iv. Stanza 30.

Come one, come all! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I. Lady of the Lake. Canto v. Stanza 10.

And the stern joy which warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel. Lady of the Lake. Canto v. Stanza 10.

Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain! Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream; [492]Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood. Thou many-headed monster[492:1] thing, Oh who would wish to be thy king! Lady of the Lake. Canto v. Stanza 30.

Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men. Lady of the Lake. Canto vi. Stanza 18.

In man's most dark extremity Oft succour dawns from Heaven. Lord of the Isles. Canto i. Stanza 20.

Spangling the wave with lights as vain As pleasures in the vale of pain, That dazzle as they fade. Lord of the Isles. Canto i. Stanza 23.

Oh, many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word at random spoken May soothe, or wound, a heart that 's broken! Lord of the Isles. Canto v. Stanza 18.

Where lives the man that has not tried How mirth can into folly glide, And folly into sin! Bridal of Triermain. Canto i. Stanza 21.

Still are the thoughts to memory dear. Rokeby. Canto i. Stanza 32.

A mother's pride, a father's joy. Rokeby. Canto iii. Stanza 15.

Oh, Brignall banks are wild and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there Would grace a summer's queen. Rokeby. Canto iii. Stanza 16.

Thus aged men, full loth and slow, The vanities of life forego, And count their youthful follies o'er, Till Memory lends her light no more. Rokeby. Canto v. Stanza 1.

No pale gradations quench his ray, No twilight dews his wrath allay. Rokeby. Canto vi. Stanza 21.

Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended; Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded. Pibroch of Donald Dhu.

When Israel, of the Lord belov'd, Out of the land of bondage came, Her fathers' God before her mov'd, An awful guide in smoke and flame. Ivanhoe. Chap. xxxix.

Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name. Old Mortality. Chap. xxxiv.

Within that awful volume lies The mystery of mysteries! The Monastery. Chap. xii.

And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn. The Monastery. Chap. xii.

Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea. The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. Quentin Durward. Chap. iv.

Widowed wife and wedded maid. The Betrothed. Chap. xv.

Woman's faith and woman's trust, Write the characters in dust. The Betrothed. Chap. xx.

Hath not thy heart within thee burned At evening's calm and holy hour? S. G. Bulfinch: The Voice of God in the Garden.

"When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!"

"Cum dolor atque supercilio gravis imminet angor, Fungeris angelico sola ministerio."

I am called The richest monarch in the Christian world; The sun in my dominions never sets. Schiller: Don Karlos, act. i. sc. 6.

Altera figlia Di quel monarca, a cui Nè anco, quando annotta il sol tramonta

When the good man yields his breath (For the good man never dies).[496:1] The Wanderer of Switzerland. Part v.

Gashed with honourable scars, Low in Glory's lap they lie; Though they fell, they fell like stars, Streaming splendour through the sky. The Battle of Alexandria.

Distinct as the billows, yet one as the sea. The Ocean. Line 54.

Once, in the flight of ages past, There lived a man. The Common Lot.

Counts his sure gains, and hurries back for more. The West Indies. Part iii.

Hope against hope, and ask till ye receive.[496:2] The World before the Flood. Canto v.

Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past. The Little Cloud.

Bliss in possession will not last; Remembered joys are never past; At once the fountain, stream, and sea, They were, they are, they yet shall be. The Little Cloud.

Friend after friend departs; Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end. Friends.

Nor sink those stars in empty night: They hide themselves in heaven's own light. Friends.

'T is not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die. The Issues of Life and Death.

Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years; And all that life is love. The Issues of Life and Death.

Night is the time to weep, To wet with unseen tears Those graves of memory where sleep The joys of other years. The Issues of Life and Death.

Who that hath ever been Could bear to be no more? Yet who would tread again the scene He trod through life before? The Falling Leaf.

Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home. At Home in Heaven.

If God hath made this world so fair, Where sin and death abound, How beautiful beyond compare Will paradise be found! The Earth full of God's Goodness.

Return unto thy rest, my soul, From all the wanderings of thy thought, From sickness unto death made whole, Safe through a thousand perils brought. Rest for the Soul.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed,— The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. What is Prayer?

Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near. What is Prayer?

He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.[498:1] The Ancient Mariner. Part i.

Red as a rose is she. The Ancient Mariner. Part i.

We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. The Ancient Mariner. Part ii.

As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. The Ancient Mariner. Part ii.

Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink. The Ancient Mariner. Part ii.

Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel. The Ancient Mariner. Part iii.

The nightmare Life-in-Death was she. The Ancient Mariner. Part iii.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. The Ancient Mariner. Part iii.

And thou art long and lank and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.[498:2] The Ancient Mariner. Part iv.

Alone, alone,—all, all alone; Alone on a wide, wide sea. The Ancient Mariner. Part iv.

The moving moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide; Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside. The Ancient Mariner. Part iv.

A spring of love gush'd from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware. The Ancient Mariner. Part iv.

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole. The Ancient Mariner. Part v.

A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. The Ancient Mariner. Part v.

Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head, Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. The Ancient Mariner. Part vi.

So lonely 't was, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. The Ancient Mariner. Part vii.

He prayeth well who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. The Ancient Mariner. Part vii.

He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small. The Ancient Mariner. Part vii.

A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. The Ancient Mariner. Part vii.

And the spring comes slowly up this way. Christabel. Part i.

A lady richly clad as she, Beautiful exceedingly. Christabel. Part i.

Carv'd with figures strange and sweet, All made out of the carver's brain. Christabel. Part i.

Her gentle limbs did she undress, And lay down in her loveliness. Christabel. Part i.

A sight to dream of, not to tell! Christabel. Part i.

That saints will aid if men will call; For the blue sky bends over all! Christabel. Conclusion to part i.

Each matin bell, the Baron saith, Knells us back to a world of death. Christabel. Part ii.

Her face, oh call it fair, not pale! Christabel. Part ii.

Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth, And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny, and youth is vain, And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain. Christabel. Part ii.

They stood aloof, the scars remaining,— Like cliffs which had been rent asunder: A dreary sea now flows between. Christabel. Part ii.

Perhaps 't is pretty to force together Thoughts so all unlike each other; To mutter and mock a broken charm, To dally with wrong that does no harm. Christabel. Conclusion to Part ii.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree, Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. Kubla Khan.

Ancestral voices prophesying war. Kubla Khan.

A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Kubla Khan.

For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. Kubla Khan.

Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there. Epitaph on an Infant.

Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare, And shot my being through earth, sea, and air, Possessing all things with intensest love, O Liberty! my spirit felt thee there. France. An Ode. v.

Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place (Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism, Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, Drops his blue-fring'd lids, and holds them close, And hooting at the glorious sun in heaven Cries out, "Where is it?" Fears in Solitude.

And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin Is pride that apes humility.[501:1] The Devil's Thoughts.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Love.

Blest hour! it was a luxury—to be! Reflections on having left a Place of Retirement.

A charm For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom No sound is dissonant which tells of life. This Lime-tree Bower my Prison.

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course? Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni.

Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines. Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni.

Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni.

Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost. Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni.

Earth with her thousand voices praises God. Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni.

Tranquillity! thou better name Than all the family of Fame. Ode to Tranquillity.

The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence. Dejection. An Ode. Stanza 1.

Joy is the sweet voice, joy the luminous cloud. We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light. Dejection. An Ode. Stanza 5.

A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive. The Three Graves.

Never, believe me, Appear the Immortals, Never alone. The Visit of the Gods. (Imitated from Schiller.)

Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn. A Christmas Carol. viii.

The knight's bones are dust, And his good sword rust; His soul is with the saints, I trust. The Knight's Tomb.

It sounds like stories from the land of spirits If any man obtains that which he merits, Or any merit that which he obtains. . . . . . . . Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends! Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man? Three treasures,—love and light, And calm thoughts, regular as infants' breath; And three firm friends, more sure than day and night,— Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. Complaint. Ed. 1852. The Good Great Man. Ed. 1893.

My eyes make pictures when they are shut. A Day-Dream.

To know, to esteem, to love, and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart! On taking Leave of ——, 1817.

In many ways doth the full heart reveal The presence of the love it would conceal. Motto to Poems written in Later Life.

Nought cared this body for wind or weather When youth and I lived in 't together. Youth and Age.

Flowers are lovely; love is flower-like; Friendship is a sheltering tree; Oh the joys that came down shower-like, Of friendship, love, and liberty, Ere I was old! Youth and Age.

I have heard of reasons manifold Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold,— His eyes are in his mind.[503:1] To a Lady, Offended by a Sportive Observation.

What outward form and feature are He guesseth but in part; But what within is good and fair He seeth with the heart. To a Lady, Offended by a Sportive Observation.

Be that blind bard who on the Chian strand, By those deep sounds possessed with inward light, Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssey Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.[503:2] Fancy in Nubibus.

I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well defined, and several stinks. Cologne.

The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne; But tell me, nymphs! what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine? Cologne.

Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows; Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean. The Homeric Hexameter. (Translated from Schiller.)

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column, In the pentameter aye falling in melody back. The Ovidian Elegiac Metre. (From Schiller.)

I stood in unimaginable trance And agony that cannot be remembered. Remorse. Act iv. Sc. 3.

The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths,—all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason. Wallenstein. Part i. Act ii. Sc. 4. (Translated from Schiller.)

I 've lived and loved. Wallenstein. Part i. Act ii. Sc. 6.

Clothing the palpable and familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn. The Death of Wallenstein. Act i. Sc. 1.

Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow.[504:1] The Death of Wallenstein. Act v. Sc. 1.

Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.[504:2] Biog. Lit. Chap. xv.

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "The few locks which are left you are gray; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,— Now tell me the reason I pray." The Old Man's Comforts, and how he gained them.

The march of intellect.[506:1] Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society. Vol. ii. p. 360. The Doctor, Chap. Extraordinary.

My days among the dead are passed; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. Occasional Pieces. xxiii.

How does the water Come down at Lodore? The Cataract of Lodore.

So I told them in rhyme, For of rhymes I had store. The Cataract of Lodore.

Through moss and through brake. The Cataract of Lodore.

Helter-skelter, Hurry-scurry. The Cataract of Lodore.

A sight to delight in. The Cataract of Lodore.

And so never ending, but always descending. The Cataract of Lodore.

And this way the water comes down at Lodore. The Cataract of Lodore.

From his brimstone bed, at break of day, A-walking the Devil is gone, To look at his little snug farm of the World, And see how his stock went on. The Devil's Walk. Stanza 1.

He passed a cottage with a double coach-house,— A cottage of gentility; And he owned with a grin, That his favourite sin Is pride that apes humility.[507:1] The Devil's Walk. Stanza 8.

Where Washington hath left His awful memory A light for after times! Ode written during the War with America, 1814.

How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures; nor cloud, or speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven: In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths; Beneath her steady ray The desert circle spreads Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. How beautiful is night! Thalaba. Book i. Stanza 1.

"But what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin. "Why, that I cannot tell," said he; "But 't was a famous victory." The Battle of Blenheim.

Blue, darkly, deeply, beautifully blue.[507:2] Madoc in Wales. Part i. 5.

What will not woman, gentle woman dare, When strong affection stirs her spirit up? Madoc in Wales. Part ii. 2.

And last of all an Admiral came, A terrible man with a terrible name,— A name which you all know by sight very well, But which no one can speak, and no one can spell. The March to Moscow. Stanza 8.

They sin who tell us love can die; With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. . . . . . Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. . . . . . It soweth here with toil and care, But the harvest-time of love is there. The Curse of Kehama. Canto x. Stanza 10.

Oh, when a mother meets on high The babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight? The Curse of Kehama. Canto x. Stanza 11.

Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe; But 't is the happy that have called thee so. The Curse of Kehama. Canto xv. Stanza 11.

The Satanic School. Vision of Judgment. Original Preface.

Gone before To that unknown and silent shore. Hester. Stanza 7.

I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days. All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. Old Familiar Faces.

For thy sake, tobacco, I Would do anything but die. A Farewell to Tobacco.

And half had staggered that stout Stagirite. Written at Cambridge.