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Snares above thy head, and snares beneath ;
Quarles. 3035. SATIETY, Byron's
Thrice-happy bird! I too have seen
And sick of having seen 'em,
Vincent Bourne, tr. by Cowper.
GREAT man! the nations gazed, and wonder'd
much, And praised : and many call'd his evil good. Wits wrote in favour of his wickedness; And kings to do him honour took delight. Thus full of titles, flattery, honour, fame; Beyond desire, beyond ambition full, He died. He died of what? Of wretchedness. Drank every cup of joy, heard every trump Of fame; drank early, deeply drank; drank
draughts That common millions might have quench’d, then
died Of thirst, because there was no more to drink. His goddess, Nature, woo'd, embraced, enjoy'd, Fell from his arms, abhorr’d; his passions died ; Died all but dreary solitary pride ; And all his sympathies in being died. As some ill-guided bark, well built and tall, Which angry tides cast out on desert shore, And then retiring, left it there to rot And moulder in the winds and rains of heaven : So he, cut from the sympathies of life, And cast ashore from pleasure's boisterous surgeA wandering, weary, worn, and wretched thing; Scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul ; A gloomy wilderness of dying thoughtRepined, and groan'd, and wither'd from the earth.
Pollok. 3036. SATIETY. Emblem of
3037. SATIETY: the penalty of surfeiting.
bread; But after days of fasting, kept up as faith imposes, The dryest bread becomes sweet as conserve of roses.
From the Persian of Saadi. 3038. SATIRE. POETS alone found the delightful way Mysterious morals gently to convey In charming numbers; so that as men grew Pleased with their poems, they grew wiser too. Satire has always shone among the rest, And is the boldest way, if not the best, To tell men freely of their foulest faults, To laugh at their vain deeds and vainer thoughts.
Dryden. Frontless and satire-proof he scours the streets, And runs an Indian muck at all he meets.
Dryden. The labouring bee, when his sharp sting is gone, Forgets his golden work, and turns a drone; Such is a satire when you take away The rage in which his noble vigour lay.-Dryden.
THERE is a bird who, by his coat,
Might be supposed a crow;
And dormitory too.
If he should chance to fall.
Or troubles it at all.
Church, army, physic, law,
And says-what says he ?-Caw.
When Satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing,
Churchill. Though Folly, robed in purple, shines, Though Vice exhausts Peruvian mines, Yet shall they tremble and turn pale When Satire wields her mighty flail. -Churchill.
You must not think that a satiric style
Where haunted ever by the thoughts that grieve es, Allows of scandalous and brutish words ;
Across us floods of bitter memory roll. The better sort abhor scurrility.-Roscommon.
There is a land where every pulse is thrilling If satire charms, strike faults, but spare the man ; With rapture earth's sojourners may not know, 'Tis dull to be as witty as you can.
Where heaven's repose the weary heart is stilling Satire recoils whenever charged too high;
And peacefully life's time-toss'd currents flow. Round your own fame the fatal splinters fly.
| Far out of sight, while yet the flesh enfolds us, As the sost plume gives swiftness to the dart,
Lies the fair country where our hearts abide, Good breeding sends the satire to the heart.
And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us,
Young: Than these few words : 'I shall be satisfied.' When knaves and fools combined o'er all prevail,
Satisfied! Satisfied! the spirit's yearning
For sweet companionship with kindred minds, Afraid of shame-unknown to other fears,
The silent love that here meets no returning, More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe,
The inspiration which no language finds — And shrink from ridicule, though not from law. Shall they be satisfied ? The soul's vague longing.
The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? Satire should, like a polish'd razor keen,
Oh what desires upon my soul are thronging Wound with a touch that's scarcely felt or seen. As I look upward to the heavenly hills !
Thither my weak and weary steps are tending; Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Saviour and Lord, with Thy frail child abide! Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame ! Guide me towards home, where, all my wanderings He hides behind a magisterial air
ending, His own offences, and strips others bare ;
I then shall see Thee, and 'be satisfied.'
And there's a lust in man no charm can tame But (I might instance in St Patrick's dean) Of loudly publishing our neighbour's shame : Too often rails to gratisy his spleen.
On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, Most sat’rists are indeed a public scourge;
While virtuous actions are but born and die. “Their mildest physic is a farrier's purge;
Juenal. Their acrid temper turns, as soon as stirr'd,
He that shall rail against his absent friends, The milk of their good purpose all to curd. Or hears them scandalized and not defends; Their zeal begotten, as their works rehearse, Sports with their fame, and speaks whate'er he can, By lean despair upon an empty purse,
And only to be thought a witty man ; The wild assassins start into the street,
Tells tales and brings his friends in disestecm; Prepared to poniard whomsoe'er they meet.
That man's a knave; be sure beware of him. No skill in swordmanship, however just,
Creaci. Can be secure against a madman's thrust;
Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints And even virtue, so unfairly match'd,
With all the high mendacity of hints, Although immortal, may be prick'd or scratcli'd.
While mingling truth with falsehood, sneers with Cowper.
smiles, 3039. SATISFACTION : not to be attained on A thread of candour with a web of wiles.- Dyrm. earth.
Assail'd by scandal and the tongue of strise, Not here! Not here! not where the sparkling His only answer was a blameless life; waters
And he that forged, and he that threw the dart, Fade into mocking sounds as we draw near ; Had each a brother's interest in his heart.--Conger. Where in the wilderness each footstep faltersI shall be satisfied—but oh, not here !
3041. SCORN. Not here, where every dream of bliss deceives us, I MAY not scorn the meanest thing Where the worn spirit never gains its goal :
That on the earth doth crawl;
The slave who dares not burst his chain,
Then be not like the hogge that hath
A pearle at his desire,
And takes more pleasure in the trouth,
And wallowing in the mire ;
Reade not this book in any case
But with a single eye;
Read not but first desire God's grace
To understand thereby;
Pray still in faith with this respect,
To fructifie therein,
That knowledge may bring this effect,
To mortify thy sinne.
Then happie thou in all thy life,
What so to thee befalles ;
Yea, double happie shalt thou be
When God by death thee calles.
Barker's Bible, 1594. 3042. SCOTLAND.
3045. SCRIPTURES : inspired. O SCOTIA! my dear, my native soil !
Thus man by his own strength to heaven would soar, For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
And would not be obliged to God for more : Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content !
Vain, wretched creature ! how art thou misled, And oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent
To think thy wit these godlike notions bred !
These truths are not the product of thy mind, From luxury's contagion, weak and vile !
But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind: Then howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,
Reveal'd religion first inform'd thy sight, A virtuous populace may rise the while,
And Reason saw not till Faith sprung the light. And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle. Burns.
Or whether more abstractedly we look,
Or on the writers, or the written Book,
Whence but from Heaven could men unskill'd in arts,
| In several age; born, in several parts,
| Weave such agreeing truths ? or how, or why,
Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie ?
Unask'd their pains, ungrateful their advice,
Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price!
Dryden. 3043. SCRIPTURE. Quoting
3046. SEASONS. Hymn of the The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose : An evil soul producing holy witness
THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these Is like a villain with a smiling cheek.
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Shakespeare. Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing spring 3044. SCRIPTURES. Effects of the
Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm ;
And every sense and every heart is joy.
With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun
And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks,
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves in hollow-whispering gales.
Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfined,
And spreads a common seast for all that lives.
In winter awful Thou! with clouds and storms
| Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd,
Majestic darkness ! On the whirlwind's wing Ye valleys, raise ; for the great Shepherd reigns, Riding sublime, Thou bid'st the world adore, And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come And humblest nature with Thy northern blast. Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song
Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine, Burst from the groves; and when the restless day, Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Yet so delightful mix’d, with such kind art,
Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm Such beauty and beneficence combined ;
The listening shades, and teach the night His praise. Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade;
Ye Chief, for whom the whole creation smiles, And all so forming an harmonious whole,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, *That, as they still succeed, they ravish still.
Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast, But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Assembled men to the deep organ join Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand, The long-resounding voice, oft breaking clear, That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ;
At solemn pauses, through the swelling bass; Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence And, as each mingling flame increases each, The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring; In one united ardour rise to heaven. Flings from the sun direct the flaming day;
Or if you rather choose the rural shade, Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth; And find a fane in every sacred grove, And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, With transport touches all the springs of life. The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Nature, attend ! join, every living soul
Still sing the God of seasons as they roll. Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the blossom blows, the summer ray
Be my tongue mute-my fancy paint no more, Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.
Should fate command me to the farthest verge And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,
Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Who shake the astonish'd world, lift high to heaven Rivers unknown to song—where first the sun The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; Flames on the Atlantic isles—'tis nought to me: And let me catch it as I muse along.
Since God is ever present, ever felt, Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound ;
In the void waste, as in the city full ; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze
And where He vital spreads there must be joy. Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main,
When even at last the solemn hour shall come, A secret world of wonders in thyself,
And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, Sound His stupendous praise-Whose greater voice I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Will rising wonders sing : I cannot go
| Myself in Him, in light ineffable ! Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Come then, expressive Silence, muse His praise. Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams,
Thomsor. Ye constellations, while your angels strike,
3047. SECRESY : our safety. Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre.
LEARN to dissemble wrongs, to smile at injuries, Great source of day! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
And suffer crimes thou want'st the power to punish! From world to world, the vital ocean round,
Be easy, affable, familiar, friendly : On Nature write with every beam His praise.
Search, and know all mankind's mysterious ways; The thunder rolls : be hush'd the prostrate world; But trust the secret of thy soul to none ! While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn.
This is the way, Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks,
This only, to be safe in such a world as this is.
Rocct. Retain the sound ; the broad responsive low,
3051. SEEING JESUS. ALL friendly trust is folly; every man
“We would see Jesus,'—for the shadows lengthen Hath one, to whom he will commit as much
· Across this:little landscape of our life; As is to him committed : our designs,
We would see Jesus, our weak faith to strengthen, When once they creep from our own private breasts, For the last weariness—the final strife. Do in a moment through the city fly; Who tells his secret, sells his liberty.-Freeman,
We would see Jesus,-other lights are paling,
Which for long years we have rejoiced to see ; A secret in his mouth,
The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing, Is like a wild bird put into a cage ;
We would not mourn them, for we go to Thce! Whose door no sooner opens, but 'tis out.
We would see Jesus,—yet the spirit lingers
Round the dear objects we have loved so long, When two know it, how can it be a secret ? And earth from earth can scarce unclose its fingers, And indeed with what justice can you
Our love to Thee makes not this love less strong. Expect secresy in me, that cannot
We would see Jesus, sense is all too blinding, Be private to yourself ?-Marston.
And heaven appears too dim, too far away;
We would see Thee, to gain a sweet reminding Who is not privy counsellor to himself.
Thåt Thou hast promised our great debt to pay.
Forde. We would see Tesus,--this is all we're needing, Do thou thy precious secrets to no other lend: | Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight; Thy friend another has : beware of thy friend's We would see Jesus,-dying, risen, pleading ; friend.-Oriental,
Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night.
3049. SECTS. Unity of the
3052. SEEKING CHRIST,
CHRIST, whose first appearance lighted
Gloomy Death's obscure domain,
Sought I Thee, but sought in vain :
Sensuality and pride ;
And remain'd unsatisfied.
YES; we do differ when we most agree;
And differing we agree in one
Which not to want is death;
Is purgatorial fire;
. H. Coleridge.
A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth! That can with studied, sly, ensnaring art,
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth?
Curse on his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth !
Is there no pity, no relenting ruth,
Nought so ill
Then to learned scribes and sages
Seeking Christ I wander'd on;
Jacob's Star had never shone :
Groping for the light of day,
But themselves saw not one ray.
By the altar-fire and lights;
Christ was absent from the rites.
In thy streets, Jerusalem ;
On my way to Bethlehem.
Looking for some trusty guide ;