Men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect For what they have been; 'tis a cruelty To load a falling man.

Henry VIII. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 74.

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2

See what a rent the envious Casca made.

Julius Cæsar. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 179. 3

You are the cruell'st she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. Twelfth Night. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 259.

If ever henceforth thou These rural latches to his entrance open, Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, I will devise a death as cruel for thee As thou art tender to't.

Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 4. L. 448.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded
SPENSER—Sonnet. 19.

While I deduce,
From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings,
The symphony of spring.

THOMSON—The Seasons. Spring. L. 576.

15 List—'twas the cuckoo_0, with what delight Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though

faint,
Far off and faint, and melting into air,
Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again!
Those louder cries give notice that the bird,
Although invisible as Echo's self,
Is wheeling hitherward.

WORDSWORTH—The Cuckoo at Laverna.

16

O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice;
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
WORDSWORTH-To the Cuckoo.

(See also SHELLEY under LARK)

CURIOSITY 17 Each window like a pill’ry appears, With heads thrust through nail'd by the ears. BUTLER—Hudibras. Pt. II. Canto III. L

391.

7

And now I hear its voice again,

And still its message is of peace,

It sings of love that will not cease, For me it never sings in vain. FRED'K LOCKER-LAMPSON. The Cuckoo.

19

The poorest of the sex have still an itch
To know their fortunes, equal to the rich.
The dairy-maid inquires, if she shall take
The trusty tailor, and the cook forsake.

DRYDEN-Sixth Satire of Juvenal. L. 762.

8

20

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.
JOHN LOGAN—To the Cuckoo. Attributed also

to MICHAEL BRUCE.

9

22

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year.
JOHN LOGAN–To the Cuckoo. Attributed also

to MICHAEL BRUCE. Arguments in favor
of Logan in Notes and Queries, April, 1902.
P. 309. In favor of Bruce, June 14, 1902.

P. 469. 10 The cuckoo builds not for himself. Antony and Cleopatra. Act II. Sc. 6. L. 28.

Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay your golden cushion

down; Rise up! come to the window, and gaze with all

the town! JOHN G. LOCKHART—The Bridal of Andella.

I saw and heard, for we sometimes, Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come

forth To town or village nigh, nighest is far, Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear, What happens new; fame also finds us out.

MILTON—Paradise Regained. Bk. I. L. 330.

23

11

And being fed by us you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow,
Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 59.

24

12

The cuckoo then on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,

Cuckoo!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.

Love's Labour's Lost. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 908.

Platon estime qu'il y ait quelque vice d'impiété à trop curieusement s'enquerir de Dieu et du monde.

Plato holds that there is some vice of impiety in enquiring too curiously about God and the world. MONTAIGNE—Essays. Bk. II. Ch. XII.

(See also HAMLET)

But to my mind, though I am native here,
And to the manner born, it is a custom
More honor'd in the breach than the observance.

Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 15.

23 That monster, custom,

is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery, That aptly is put on.

Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 161.

10

24

The slaves of custom and established mode, With pack-horse constancy we keep the road Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny

dells, True to the jingling of our leader's bells.

COWPER-Tirocinium. L. 251.

11 Man yields to custom, as he bows to fate, In all things ruled-mind, body, and estate; In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply To them we know not, and we know not why. CRABBE—Tale III. The Gentleman Farmer.

L. 86.

12

Che l'uso dei mortali è come fronda.
In ramo, che sen va, ed altra viene.

The customs and fashions of men change like leaves on the bough, some of which go and others come. DANTE-Paradiso. XXVI. 137.

27

'Tis nothing when you are used to it.

SWIFT-Polite Conversation. Dialogue III.

There is a tiny yellow daffodil,
The butterfly can see it from afar,
Although one summer evening's dew could fill
Its little cup twice over, ere the star
Had called the lazy shepherd to his fold,
And be no prodigal.

OSCAR WILDE—The Burden of Stys.

*

*

*

14

6

We have short time to stay as you,

We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay

As you or anything.

HERRICK-Daffadills. When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head t'wards me, Guesse I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed. HERRICK–Hesperides. Divination by a Daf

fadill. 7 "O fateful flower beside the rillThe Daffodil, the daffodil!"

JEAN INGELOW—Persephone. St. 16. It is daffodil time, so the robins all cry, For the sun's a big daffodil up in the sky, And when down the midnight the owl calls

"to-whooo! Why, then the round moon is a daffodil too; Now sheer to the bough-tops the sap starts to

climb, So, merry my masters, it's daffodil time.

CLINTON ŠCOLLARD—Daffodil Time.

8

The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air.

BURNS— Luve Will Venture In.

17

Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate, That fate is thine--no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate,

Full on thy bloom,
Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight

Shall be thy doom!
BURNS—To a Mountain Daisy.

(See also YOUNG under RUIN)

18

Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.

Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 118.

10 When the face of night is fair in the dewy downs And the shining daffodil dies.

TENNYSON-Maud. Pt. III. St. 1.

11
O Love-star of the unbeloved March,

When cold and shrill,
Forth flows beneath a low, dim-lighted arch

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
A host in the sunshine, an army in June,
The people God sends us to set our heart free.

BLISS CARMAN-Daisies.

19

You may wear your virtues as a crown,

As you walk through life serenely, And grace your simple rustic gown

With a beauty more than queenly.

Another begins, and each merrily goes.

HEINE-Dream and Life.

10

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine import from all duty free,
And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee.

BYRON—The Waltz. L. 29.

11

arms

Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the

dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path

the meadows; Old folk and young together, and children

mingled among them. LONGFELLOW_Evangeline. Pt. I. IV.

He who esteems the Virginia reel A bait to draw saints from their spiritual weal, And regards the quadrille as a far greater

knavery Than crushing His African children with slavery, Since all who take part in a waltz or cotillon Are mounted for hell on the devil's own pillion, Who, as every true orthodox Christian welí

knows, Approaches the heart through the door of the

toes. LOWELL-Fable for Critics. L. 492.

12

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground In a light fantastic round.

MILTON—Comus. L. 143.

13

Endearing Waltz—to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance forego
Your future claims to each fantastic toe!
Waltz-Waltz alone-both legs and

demands,
Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands.

BYRON—The Waltz. L. 109.

3 Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.

BYRON—The Waltz. L. 234. What! the girl I adore by another embraced? What! the balm of her breath shall another man

taste? What! pressed in the dance by another's man's

knee? What! panting recline on another than me? Sir, she's yours; you have pressed from the grape

its fine blue, From the rosebud you've shaken the tremulous

dew; What you've touched you may take. Pretty

waltzer-adieu! SIR HENRY ENGLEFIELD—The Waltz. Dancing. Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er, And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more

At their speed behold advancing

Modern men and women dancing; Step and dress alike express Above, below from heel to toe, Male and female awkwardness. Without a hoop, without a ruffle, One eternal jig and shuffle, Where's the air and where's the gait? Where's the feather in the hat? Where the frizzed toupee? and where Oh! where's the powder for the hair? CATHERINE FANSHAWE—The Abrogation of the Birth-Night Ball.

To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet. GRAY-Progress of Poesy. Pt. I. St. 3.

L. 10.

6

Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away;
To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint,
Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.

POPE-Rape of the Lock. Canto V. L. 19.

7

18

know the romance, since it's over,

'Twere idle, or worse, to recall;I know you're a terrible rover;

But, Clarence, you'll come to our ball. PRAED-Our Ball.

19

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.

GOLDSMITH–Traveller. L. 251.

8
And the dancing has begun now,
And the dancers whirl round gaily
In the waltz's giddy mazes,
And the ground beneath them trembles.

HEINE-Book of Songs. Don Ramiro. St. 23.
Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon as a dance has come to a close,

I saw her at a country ball;

There when the sound of flute and fiddle Gave signal sweet in that old hall,

Of hands across and down the middle Hers was the subtlest spell by far

Of all that sets young hearts rom ancing: She was our queen, our rose, our star; And when she danced-oh, heaven, her danc

ing! PRAED-The Belle of the Ball.

9