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Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise.

Goldsmith.

His peaceful smile invites them to love and to confide, Oh! follow in His footsteps, keep closely by His side!

of the deep learning in the schools of yore,

The reverend pastor hath a golden stock :
Yet, with a vain display of useless lore,
Or sapless doctrine, never will he mock

The better cravings of his simple flock;
But faithfully their humble shepherd guides

Where streams eternal gush from Calvary's rock; For well he knows, not learning's purest tides Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul abides.

Mrs Little. 2636. PASTORS. Inconsistent

To soft and tearful sadness, He changes dumb despair, And soothes to deep submission the storm of grief

and care ; Where midnight shades are brooding, He pours the

light of noon, And every grievous wound He heals, most surely, if

not soon.

He will not always answer thy questions and thy fear, His watch word is, 'Be patient, the journey's end is

near ! And even through the toilsome way, He tells of joys

to come, And points the pilgrim to his rest, the wanderer to

his home.

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst, like a puffd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own read.—Shakespeare.

2637. PATIENCE. Angel of

To cheer, to help us, children of the dust,

More than one angel has Our Father given; But one alone is faithful to her trust,

The best, the brightest exile out of heaven.

Her ways are not the ways of pleasantness ;

Her paths are not the lightsome paths of joy; She walks with wrongs that cannot find redress,

And dwells in mansions Time and Death destroy.

She waits until her stern precursor, Care,

Has lodged on foreheads, open as the morn, To plough his deep, besieging trenches there

The signs of struggles which the heart has borne.

2639. PATIENCE. Angel of

To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God's meekest Angel gently comes
No power has he to banish pain,
, Or give us back our lost again ;
And yet in tenderest love our dear
And heavenly Father sends him here.
There's quiet in that Angel's glance!
There's rest in his still countenance !
He mocks no grief with idle cheer,
Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear;
But ills and woes he may not cure
He kindly trains us to endure.
Angel of Patience ! sent to calm
Our feverish brows with cooling palm;
To lay the storms of hope and fear,
And reconcile life's smile and tear;
The throbs of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our Father's will !
O thou who mournest on thy way,
With longings for the close of day;
He walks with thee, that Angel kind,
And gently whispers, "Be resign'd :
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell
The dear Lord ordereth all things well!'

Whittier 2640. PATIENCE. Difficulty of exercising 'Tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow; But no man's moral, when he shall endure The like himself: therefore give me no counsel ; My griefs are louder than advertisement.

Shakespeare Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause (They can be meek that have no other cause) :

But when the first cloud darkens in our sky,

And face to face with Life we stand alone, Silent and swift, behold ! she draweth nigh,

And mutely makes our sufferings her own.

Unto rebellious souls, that, mad with Fate,

To question God's eternal justice dare, She points above with looks that whisper, ‘Wait

What seems confusion here is wisdom there.'

Daughter of God! who walkest with us here,

Who mak'st our every tribulation thine, Such light hast thou in Earth's dim atmosphere, How must thy seat in heaven exalted shine !

Bayard Taylor. 2638. PATIENCE. Angel of

A GENTLE angel walketh throughout a world of woe, With messages of mercy to mourning hearts below : 1

2643. PATIENCE. Exhortation to

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.

Shakespeare.

Oh! foolish heart, be still,

And vex thyself no more, Wait thou for God until

He opens pleasure's door.
Thou know'st not what is good for thee,

But God doth know,-
Let Him thy strong reliance be,

And rest thee so.-C. F. Gellert,

2644. PATIENCE. Help to

Many are the sayings of the wise, In ancient and in modern books enrolla, Extolling patience as the truest fortitude; And to the bearing well of all calamities, All chances incident to man's frail life, Consolitaries writ, With studied argument, and much persuasion sought, Lenient of grief and anxious thought : But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound Little prevails, or rather seems a tune Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint; Unless he feels within Some source of consolation from above, Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, And fainting spirits uphold. - Milton.

In such a world, so thorny, and where none
Finds happiness unblighted, or, if found,
Without some thistly sorrow at its side,
It seems the part of wisdom, and no sin
Against the law of love, to measure lots
With less distinguish'd than ourselves, that thus
We may with patience bear our moderate ills,
And sympathize with others, suffering more.

Cowper. 2645. PATIENCE. Lessons of Be patient ! oh, be patient! Put your ear against

the earth; Listen there how noiselessly the germ o' the seed

has birth; How noiselessly and gently it upheaves its little way, Till it parts the scarcely broken ground, and the

blade stands up in day.

· 2641. PATIENCE : enjoined.

What God decrees, child of His love,
Take patiently, though it may prove
The storm that wrecks thy treasure here;
Be comforted ! thou need'st not fear

What pleases God.

The wisest will is God's own will ;
Rest on this anchor and be still ;
For peace around thy path shall flow,
When only wishing here below

What pleases God.-Gerhardt.

Be patient ! oh, be patient! the germs of mighty

thought Must have their silent undergrowth, must under

ground be wrought; But as sure as there's a power that makes the grass

appear, Our land shall be green with liberty, the blade-time

shall be here.

2642. PATIENCE. Example of

O YE, whose hearts in secret bleed

O'er transient hope, like morning dew, O'er friendship faithless in your need,

Or love to all its vows untrue, Who shrink from persecution's rod,

Or slander's fang, or treachery's tone, Look meekly to the Son of God,

And in His griefs forget your own. Forsaken are ye?—so was He ;

Reviled ?-yet check the 'vengeful word; Rejected ?-should the servant be

Exalted o'er his suffering Lord ?
Nor deem that Heaven's omniscient eye

Is e'er regardless of your lot:
Deluded man from God may fly,
But when was man by God forgot ?

Mrs Sigourney.

Be patient ! oh, be patient! go and watch the wheat

ears growSo imperceptibly that ye can mark nor change nor

throeDay after day, day after day, till the ear is fully

grown, And then again day after day, till the ripen'd field

is brown.

Be patient ! oh, be patient ! though yet our hopes

are green, The harvest fields of freedom shall be crown'd with

sunny sheen. Be ripening! be ripening! mature your silent way, Till the whole broad land is tongued with fire on

freedom's harvest day !

2646. PATIENCE. Reward of

When next I falter, rouse my faith as now,
That out of darkness I may see great light,
And follow where it ever leads-to Thee.

Caroline A. Briggs. 2648. PATIENCE. Success of

With patience sour grapes become sweetmeats, and mulberry leaves turn to satin.'-Oriental Proverb. Calm daughter of the might of God,

Large-handed, firm, not prone to speak;

Delighting to make strong the weak,
To lift with those who bear the load.
I long for that I do not find;

It rests above, high out of reach.

Then comest thou, with skill to teach The better habits of the mind.

HASTE not : the flying courser, over-heated, dies, While step by step the patient camel goalward plies.

Oriental. 2649. PATIENCE. True

I wait uneasily and strive,

Resentful at the motion slow

Of leaves which spread and worms which grow, And, unproducing, seem to thrive. But, after all, the grape will round,

Ruddy and ripe, with perfect juice ;

And, after all, the worm hath use,
When its cocoon is fully wound.
And then I drink, at length, the wine

Of long-enduring sun and rain,

And wear the robe which I was fain
In other days to seek for mine. -Duffield.

PATIENCE in cowards is tame, hopeless fear; But in brave minds, a scorn of what they bear.

Dryden. 2650. PATIENCE. Value of How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

Shakespeare.
Patience, my lord ! why 'tis the soul of peace :
Of all the virtues 'tis the nearest kin to heaven ;
It makes men look like gods : the best of men
That e'er wore earth about him, was a sufferer,
A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit,
The first true gentleman that ever breathed.

Decker.
E'en the best must own,
Patience and resignation are the pillars
Of human peace on earth.-Young-

2651. PATIENCE. Victory of

PATIENCE is more oft the exercise
Of saints, the trial of their fortitude ;
Making them each his own deliverer,
And victor over all
That tyranny or fortune can inflict. - Milton.

2647. PATIENCE. Reasons for
Oh, my tried soul, be patient ! Roughest rinds
Fold over sweetest fruitage ; heaviest clouds
Rain the most ample harvests on the fields ;
The grass grows greenest where the wintry snows
Have fallen deepest, and the fairest flowers
Spring from old dead decay ; the darkest mine
Yields the most flashing jewels from its cell;
And stars are born of darkness—day of night.
Oh, my tried soul, be patient ! Yet for thee
Goes on the secret alchemy of life;
God, the one giver, grants no boon to earth
That He withholds from thee; and from the depth
Of thy deep sorrow shall evolve new light,
New strength to do and suffer, new resolves;
Perchance, new gladness, and the freshest hopes.
Oh! there are times when I can no more weep
That I have suffer'd, for I know great strength
Is born of suffering ; and I trust that still
Wrapt in the dry husks of my outer life
Lie warmer seeds than ever yet have burst
From its dull covering ; stronger purposes
Stir consciously within, and make me great
With a new life-a life akin to God's--
Which I must nurture for the holy skies.
Help me, Thou Great All-Patient! for the flesh
Will sometimes falter, and the spirit fail :
Add to my human Thy Divine strength;

2652. PATIENT LOVE. Christ's example of What grace, O Lord, and beauty shone

Around Thy steps below!
What patient love was seen in all

Thy life and death of woe!
For ever on Thy burden'd heart

A weight of sorrow hung;
Yet no ungentle murmuring word

Escaped Thy silent tongue
Thy foes might hate, despise, revile,

Thy friends unfaithful prove ;
Unwearied in forgiveness still,

Thy heart could only love.
Oh ! give us hearts to love like Thee, -

Like Thee, O Lord, to grieve
Far more for others' sins, than all

The wrongs that we receive.

One with Thyself, may every eye

In us, Thy brethren, see That gentleness and grace that spring

From union, Lord with Thee.

Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs
Be strung to city gates and castle walls-
But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years
Elapse, and others share as dark a doom
They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts
Which overpower all others, and conduct
The world at last to freedom.-Byron.

2653. PATRIOTISM. Innate

But where to find the happiest spot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know? The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease : The naked negro, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, And estimate the blessings which they share, Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind; As different good, by art or nature given, To different nations make their blessings even.

Goldsmith. 2654. PATRIOTISM. Lack of

2657. PATRIOTISM. Shrines of

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes bless'd !
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung ;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung ;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there !--Collins.

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, As home his footsteps he bath 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.--Scott.

2658. PATRIOTISM. Universal THERE is a land, of every land the pride, | Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside, Where brighter suns dispense serener light, And milder moons imparadise the night ; A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth, Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth : The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air. In every clime, the magnet of his soul, Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole ; For in this land of Heaven's peculiar race, The heritage of nature's noblest grace, There is a spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride, While in his soften'd looks benignly blend The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend. Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife, Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life; In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, An angel-guard of love and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. * Where shall that land, that spot of earth, be found ?' Art thou a man?-a patriot ?-look around; Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home ! Man, through all ages of revolving time, 1 Unchanging man, in every varying clime,

2655. PATRIOTISM. Maxim of

That grounded maxim, So rife and celebrated in the mouths Of wisest men, that to the public good Private respects must yield.— Milton.

2656. PATRIOTISM. Sacrifices of

Calendaro. But if we fail

Bertuccio. They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore;

Deems his own land of every land the pride, When her voice recall'd him suddenly
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside;

To himself, as sadly she said:
His home the spot of earth supremely blest, * Ah, woe is me! for your work is spoil'd,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

And what will we do for bread ?'
James Montgomery.

And then the weaver look'd, and saw 2659. PATRIOTS.

His work must be undone ;
PATRIOTS, in peace, assert the people's right, For the threads were wrong, and the colours dimmid,
With noble stubbornness resisting might.

Where the bitter tears had run.
Dryden.

* Alack, alack !' said the weaver, All private virtue is the public fund :

* And this had all been right As that abounds, the state decays or thrives :

| If I had not look'd at my work, but kept Each should contribute to the general stock, And who lends most is most his country's friend. |

The pattern in my sight!'

Jephson. | Ah ! sad it was for the weaver,
Leonidas and Washington,

And sad for his luckless wife ;
Whose every battle-field is holy ground,

And sad it will be for us if we say, Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds un

At the end of our task of life, done;

• The colours that we had to weave How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound !

Were bright in our early years ; While the mere victors may appal or stun

But we wove the tissue wrong, and stain'd The servile and the vain, such names will be

The woof with bitter tears. A watchword till the Future shall be free.-Byron.

* We wove a web of doubt and fearWhat constitutes a state ?

Not faith, and hope, and loveNot high-raised battlement or labour'd mound,

Because we look'd at our work, and not Thick wall or moated gate ;

At our Pattern up above!'- Phæbe Carty. Not cities proud with spires and turrets crown'd ; Not bays and broad-arm’d ports,

2661. PAUPER. Death of a Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ;

TREAD softly-bow the headNot starr'd and spangled courts

In reverent silence bowWhere low-brow'd baseness wafts perfume to pride.

No passing bell doth toll, No :--men, high-minded men,

Yet an immortal soul
With powers as far above dull brutes endued,

Is passing now.
In forest, brake, or den,
As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ;

Stranger ! however great,
Men, who their duties know,

With lowly reverence bow ; But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain,

There's one in that poor shedPrevent the long-aim'd blow,

One by that paltry bedAnd crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain:

Greater than thou. These constitute a state. - Sir William Jones.

Beneath that beggar's roof,

Lo! Death doth keep his state. 2660. PATTERN. Neglecting the

Enter, no crowds attend; A WEAVER sat one day at his loom,

Enter, no guards defend Among the colours bright,

This palace gate. With the pattern for his copying

That pavement, damp and cold, Hung fair and plain in sight.

No smiling courtiers tread; But the weaver's thoughts were wandering

One silent woman stands, Away on a distant track,

Lifting with meagre handa As he threw the shuttle in his hand

A dying head. Wearily forward and back.

No mingling voices soundAnd he turn'd his dim eyes to the ground,

An infant wail alone; And tears fell on the woof,

A sob suppress'd—again For his thoughts, alas ! were not with his home,

That short deep gasp, and thenNor the wife beneath its roof;

The parting groan.

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