H.

Habit.

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,

As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.

858

DRYDEN:

Ovid's Metamorphoses,

Bk. xv., Line 155.

Small habits well pursued betimes

May reach the dignity of crimes.

859

HANNAH MORE:

Floris,

Pt. i., Line 85.

Hair.

She knows her man, and when you rant and swear,

Can draw you to her with a single hair.

860

DRYDEN:

From Persius,

Satire v., Line 246.

Golden hair, like sunlight streaming

On the marble of her shoulder.

861

J.G. SAXE:

The Lover's Vision,

St. 3.

When you see fair hair

Be pitiful.

862

GEORGE ELIOT:

Spanish Gypsy,

Bk. 4.

Loose his beard, and hoary hair

Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.

863

GRAY:

The Bard,

Pt. i., St. 2.

Halter.

No man e'er felt the halter draw,

With good opinion of the law.

864

JOHN TRUMBULL:

McFingal,

Canto iii., Line 489.

Hand.

Let my hand—

This hand, lie in your own—my own true friend!

Hand in hand with you.

865

ROBERT BROWNING:

Paracelsus,

Sc. 5.

'T was a hand

White, delicate, dimpled, warm, languid, and bland.

The hand of a woman is often, in youth,

Somewhat rough, somewhat red, somewhat graceless in truth;

Does its beauty refine, as its pulses grow calm,

Or as Sorrow has, crossed the life-line in the palm?

866

OWEN MEREDITH:

Lucile,

Pt. i., Canto iii., St. 13.

Happiness.

And there is even a happiness

That makes the heart afraid.

867

HOOD:

Ode to Melancholy.

Happiness depends, as Nature shows,

Less on exterior things than most suppose.

868

COWPER:

Table Talk,

Line 246.

O happiness! our being's end and aim!

Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name:

That something still which prompts the eternal sigh,

For which we bear to live, or dare to die.

869

POPE:

Essay on Man,

Epis. iv., Line 1.

Harmony.

Soft stillness and the night

Become the touches of sweet harmony.

870

SHAKS.:

M. of Venice,

Act v., Sc. 1.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,

This universal frame began:

From harmony to harmony

Through all the compass of the notes it ran,

The diapason closing full in Man.

871

DRYDEN:

A Song for St. Cecilia's Day,

Line 11.

Harp.

The harp that once through Tara's halls

The soul of music shed,

Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls

As if that soul were fled.

872

MOORE:

The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls.

Haste.

Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.

873

SHAKS.:

Hamlet,

Act i., Sc. 2.

Running together all about,

The servants put each other out,

Till the grave master had decreed,

The more haste, ever the worst speed.

874

CHURCHILL:

Ghost,

Bk. iv., Line 1159.

Hat.

So Britain's monarch once uncovered sat,

While Bradshaw bullied in a broad-brimmed hat.

875

JAMES BRAMSTON:

Man of Taste.

Hatred.

To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,

When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts.

876

SHAKS.:

Mid. N. Dream,

Act iii., Sc. 2.

Never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep.

877

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. iv., Line 98.

There was a laughing devil in his sneer,

That rais'd emotions both of rage and fear;

And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,

Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell!

878

BYRON:

Corsair,

Canto i., St. 9.

He who surpasses or subdues mankind

Must look down on the hate of those below.

879

BYRON:

Ch. Harold,

Canto iii., St. 45.

Hawthorn.

And every shepherd tells his tale

Under the hawthorn in the dale.

880

MILTON:

L'Allegro,

Line 67.

Head.

Oh good gray head which all men knew!

881

TENNYSON:

Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington,

St. 4.

The tall, the wise, the reverend head

Must lie as low as ours.

882

WATTS:

Hymns and Spiritual Songs,

Bk. ii., Hymn 63.

Health.

Nor love, nor honor, wealth, nor power,

Can give the heart a cheerful hour

When health is lost. Be timely wise;

With health all taste of pleasure flies.

883

GAY:

Fables,

Pt. i., Fable 31.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought

Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.

884

DRYDEN:

Epis. to John Dryden of Chesterton,

Line 92.

Heart.

A merry heart goes all the day,

Your sad tires in a mile-a.

885

SHAKS.:

Wint. Tale,

Act iv., Sc. 2.

With every pleasing, every prudent part,

Say, what can Chloe want? She wants a heart.

886

POPE:

Moral Essays,

Epis. ii., Line 159.

Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle,

Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

887

MRS. BROWNING:

Lady Geraldine's Courtship,

xli.

The heart bowed down by weight of woe

To weakest hope will cling.

888

ALFRED BUNN:

Song.

Here the heart

May give a useful lesson to the head.

And Learning wiser grow without his books.

889

COWPER:

Task,

Bk. vi., Line 85.

But on and up, where Nature's heart

Beats strong amid the hills.

890

RICHARD M. MILNES:

Tragedy of the Lac de Gaube,

St. 2.

Heaven.

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge

That no king can corrupt.

891

SHAKS.:

Henry VIII.,

Act iii., Sc. 1.

Heaven

Is as the Book of God before thee set,

Wherein to read his wondrous works.

892

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. viii., Line 66.

Some feelings are to mortals given

With less of earth in them than heaven.

893

SCOTT:

Lady of the Lake,

Canto ii., St. 22.

Hell.

'Tis now the very witching time of night,

When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out

Contagion to this world.

894

SHAKS.:

Hamlet,

Act iii., Sc. 2.

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round,

As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames

No light; but rather darkness visible

Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

That comes to all, but torture without end.

895

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. i., Line 61.

Hell

Grew darker at their frown.

896

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. ii., Line 719.

To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite,

Who never mentions hell to ears polite.

897

POPE:

Moral Essays,

Epis. iv., Line 149.

In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.

898

BYRON:

Ch. Harold,

Canto i., St. 20.

Hell is a city much like London—

A populous and a smoky city;

There are all sorts of people undone,

And there is little or no fun done;

Small justice shown, and still less pity.

899

SHELLEY:

Peter Bell the Third,

Pt. iii.

Heritage.

I, the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.

900

TENNYSON:

Loksley Hall,

Line 178.

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine!

901

GOLDSMITH:

Traveller,

Line 50.

Heroes.

Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed,

From Macedonia's madman to the Swede.

902

POPE:

Essay on Man,

Epis. iv., Line 219.

Whoe'er excels in what we prize,

Appears a hero in our eyes.

903

SWIFT:

Cadenus and Vanessa,

Line 729.

To the hero, when his sword

Has won the battle for the free

Death's voice sounds like a prophet's word;

And in its hollow tones are heard

The thanks of millions yet to be!

904

HALLECK:

Marco Bozzaris.

Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.

905

POPE:

Iliad,

Bk. xv., Line 157.

Hills.

The hills,

Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.

906

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT:

Thanatopsis.

I have looked on the hills of the stormy North,

And the larch has hung his tassels forth.

907

HEMANS:

The Voice of Spring.

History.

History, with all her volumes vast,

Hath but one page.

908

BYRON:

Ch. Harold,

Canto iv.; St. 108.

Holiday.

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work;

But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,

And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

909

SHAKS.:

1 Henry IV.,

Act i., Sc. 2.

There were his young barbarians all at play;

There was their Dacian mother: he, their sire,

Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday!

910

BYRON:

Ch. Harold,

Canto iv., St. 141.

Holiness.

Whoso lives the holiest life

Is fittest far to die.

911

MARGARET J. PRESTON:

Ready.

Homage.

When I am dead, no pageant train

Shall waste their sorrows at my bier,

Nor worthless pomp of homage vain

Stain it with hypocritic tear.

912

EDWARD EVERETT:

Alaric the Visigoth

Home.

Home is the resort

Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,

Supporting and supported, polish'd friends

And dear relations mingle into bliss.

913

THOMSON:

Seasons, Autumn,

Line 65.

This fond attachment to the well-known place

Whence first we started into life's long race,

Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,

We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.

914

COWPER:

Tirocinium,

Line 314.

This be the verse you grave for me:

Here he lies where he longed to be;

Home is the sailor, home from sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.

915

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON:

Requiem.

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home.

916

J. HOWARD PAYNE:

Home, Sweet Home.

Type of the wise who soar but never roam,

True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

917

WORDSWORTH:

To a Skylark.

Homer.

Read Homer once, and you can read no more,

For all books else appear so mean, so poor;

Verse may seem prose; but still persist to read,

And Homer will be all the books you need.

918

SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE:

Essay on Poetry

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne,

Yet did I never breathe its pure serene

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold.

919

KEATS:

On first looking into Chapman's Homer.

Seven cities warred for Homer being dead;

Who living had no roofe to shrowd his head.

920

THOMAS HEYWOOD:

Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells.

Honesty.

An honest man he is, and hates the slime

That sticks on filthy deeds.

921

SHAKS.:

Othello,

Act v., Sc. 2.

A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod;

An honest man's the noblest work of God.

922

POPE:

Essay on Man,

Epis. iv., Line 247.

Honor.

Too much honor:

O, 'tis a burthen, ... 'tis a burthen,

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

923

SHAKS.:

Henry VIII.,

Act iii., Sc. 2.

Honor travels in a strait so narrow,

Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path.

924

SHAKS.:

Troil, and Cress.,

Act iii., Sc. 3.

Honor's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienced men

To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.

925

ADDISON:

Cato,

Act ii., Sc. 5.

Honor and shame from no condition rise;

Act well your part, there all the honor lies.

926

POPE:

Essay on Man,

Epis. iv., Line 193.

His honor rooted in dishonor stood,

And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.

927

TENNYSON:

Idyls, Elaine,

Line 884.

There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,

To bless the turf that wraps their clay.

928

WILLIAM COLLINS:

Ode in 1746.

Hood.

A page of Hood may do a fellow good

After a scolding from Carlyle or Ruskin.

929

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES:

How Not to Settle It.

Hope.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallows' wings;

Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

930

SHAKS.:

Richard III.,

Act v., Sc. 2.

So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear,

Farewell remorse! All good to me is lost.

931

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. iv., Line 108.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never is, but always to be blest.

932

POPE:

Essay on Man,

Epis. i., Line 95.

Auspicious hope! in thy sweet garden grow

Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.

933

CAMPBELL:

Pl. of Hope,

Pt. i., Line 45.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene,

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,

Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,

As false and fleeting as 'tis fair.

934

HEBER:

On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope.

Where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

That comes to all.

935

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. i., Line 65.

"All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"

These words in sombre color I beheld

Written upon the summit of a gate.

936

DANTE:

Inferno, Longfellow's Trans.,

Canto iii., Line 9.

Horn.

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

937

WORDSWORTH:

Miscellaneous Sonnets,

Pt. i., xxxiii.

Horror.

My fell of hair

Would at a dismal treatise louse and stir

As life were in 't: I have supp'd full with horrors.

938

SHAKS.:

Macbeth,

Act v., Sc. 5.

On horror's head horrors accumulate.

939

SHAKS.:

Othello,

Act iii., Sc. 3.

Horse.

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

940

SHAKS.:

Richard III.,

Act v., Sc. 4.

Hospitality.

My master is of churlish disposition,

And little recks to find the way to heaven

By doing deeds of hospitality.

941

SHAKS.:

As You Like It,

Act ii., Sc. 4.

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted.

942

LONGFELLOW:

Evangeline,

Pt. I., iv., Line 15.

Host.

The leader, mingling with the vulgar host,

Is in the common mass of matter lost.

943

POPE:

Odyssey,

Bk. iv., Line 397.

Hour.

Too busy with the crowded hour to fear to live or die.

944

EMERSON:

Quatrains, Nature.

Catch, then, oh catch the transient hour;

Improve each moment as it flies!

Life's a short summer, man a flower;

He dies—alas! how soon he dies!

945

DR. JOHNSON:

Winter, An Ode.

House.

For there's nae luck about the house,

There's nae luck at a';

There 's little pleasure in the house

When our gudeman 's awa'.

946

WILLIAM J. MICKLE:

Manner's Wife.

Humanity.

But hearing oftentimes

The still, sad music of humanity.

947

WORDSWORTH:

Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.

O suffering, sad humanity!

O ye afflicted ones, who lie

Steeped to the lips in misery,

Longing, yet afraid to die,

Patient, though sorely tried!

948

LONGFELLOW:

Goblet of Life.

Humility.

Give me the lowest place: or if for me

That lowest place too high, make one more low

Where I may sit and see

My God and love Thee so.

949

CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI:

The Lowest Place.

Hunger.

The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,

And wretches hang that jurymen may dine.

950

POPE:

R. of the Lock,

Canto iii., Line 21.

Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.

951

THOMSON:

Seasons, Winter,

Line 393.

Hunting.

The healthy huntsman, with a cheerful horn,

Summons the dogs and greets the dappled Morn.

The jocund thunder wakes the enliven'd hounds,

They rouse from sleep, and answer sounds for sounds.

952

GAY:

Rural Sports,

Canto ii., Line 96.

Husband.

As the husband is, the wife is; thou art mated with a clown,

And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.

953

TENNYSON:

Locksley Hall,

St. 24.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet

To think how monie counsels sweet,

How monie lengthened sage advices,

The husband frae the wife despises.

954

BURNS:

Tam O'Shanter.

Hypocrisy.

This outward-sainted deputy,—

Whose settled visage and deliberate word

Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth emmew

As falcon doth the fowl,—is yet a devil.

955

SHAKS.:

M. for M.,

Act iii., Sc. 1.

Neither man nor angel can discern

Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks

Invisible, except to God alone,

By His permissive will, through Heaven and Earth.

956

MILTON:

Par. Lost,

Bk. iii., Line 682.

The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood

In naked ugliness. He was a man

Who stole the livery of the court of heaven

To serve the devil in.

957

POLLOK:

Course of Time,

Pt. viii., Line 615.