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Weep no more, lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrow is in vain ;
For violets plucked the sweetest showers
Will ne'er make grow again.
The Friar of Orders Gray.
We'll shine in more substantial honors,
And to be noble we'll be good.*
And when with envy time transported,
My mind to me a kingdom is ;+
Such perfect joy therein I find,
As far exceeds all earthly bliss,
That God and Nature hath assigned.
Howe'er it be, it seems to me,
'Tis only noble to be good.
TENNYSON. Lady Clara Vere de Vere.
+ Mens regnum bona possidet.
SENECA. Thyestes, Act ii. Line 380.
My mind to me an empire is
While grace affordeth health.
ROBERT SOUTHWELL. 1560-1595.
Though much I want that most would have,
From Byrd's Psalmes, Sonnets, &c., 1588.
He that had neyther been kithe nor kin
Might have seen a full fayre sight.
Guy of Gisborne.
BEILBY PORTEUS. 1731-1808.
IN sober state,
Through the sequestered vale of rural life,
The venerable patriarch guileless held
The tenor of his way.*
One murder made a villain,
Death. Line 108.
Millions a hero. Princes were privileged
War its thousands slays, Peace its ten thousands.
Ibid. Line 178.
Whom soft-eyed pity once led down from Heaven
And oh! still harder lesson, how to die.‡
*Cf. GRAY, p. 229.
Ibid. Line 16.
+ Cf. YOUNG, p. 211.
There taught us how to live; and (oh! too high
The price for knowledge) taught us how to die.
TICKELL on the Death of Addison.
JAMES BEATTIE. 1735-1803.
H! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar?
The Minstrel. Book i. St. 1.
At the close of the day when the hamlet is still,
He thought as a sage, but he felt as a man.
By the glare of false science betrayed,
How hard their lot who neither won nor lost.
Epigram. The Bucks had dined.
CHARLES CHURCHILL. 1741-1764.
HE mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone.
But spite of all the criticizing elves,
The Rosciad. Line 322.
Those who would make us feel-must feel themselves.*
* Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi.-HORACE. Ars Poetica, 102.
With curious art the brain, too finely wrought,
NITED yet divided, twain at once.
So sit two kings of Brentford on one throne.*
Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds
Book i. The Sofa.
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature.
The earth was made so various, that the mind
And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
*Two Kings of Brentford, from Buckingham's play of the Rehearsal.
God made the country, and man made the town.*
Book i. The Sofa.
O for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Might never reach me more.†
Make enemies of nations, who had else,
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
England, with all thy faults I love thee still,
Oh that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of wayfaring men.Jeremiah ix. 2.
Servi peregrini, ut primum Galliæ fines penetraverint eodem momento liberi sunt.-BODINUS. Liber i. c. 5.
§ Be England what she will,
With all her faults she is my country still.