Imagens da página
PDF

Not starr'd and spangled courts,

3224. STATES : easily destroyed. Where low-brow'd baseness wasts perfume to pride. No: men, high-minded men,

A THOUSAND years scarce serve to form a state; With powers as far above dull brutes endued

An hour may lay it in the dust.-Byron.
In forest, brake, or den,
As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ? 3225. STATESMEN.
Men who their duties know,

BELIEVE me, friends, loud tumults are not laid But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain,

With half the easiness that they are raised.
Prevent the long-aim'd blow,

Ben Jonson.
And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain;
These constitute a state ;

He ill aspires to rule
And sovereign law, that state's collected will,

Cities of men or headstrong multitudes,
O'er thrones and globes elate,

Subject himself to anarchy within.-Milton.
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Smit by her sacred frown,

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, The fiend, Dissension, like a vapour sinks;

In action faithful, and in honour clear!
And e'en the all-dazzling crown

Who broke no promise, served no private end, Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks.

Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend : Sir William Jones.

Ennobled by himself, by all approved,

Praised, wept, and honour'd by the muse he loved 3223. STATE. Duty to the

Pot

Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey Our country is a whole, my Publius,

The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, Of which we all are parts : nor should a citizen

'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand Regard his interests as distinct from hers : No hopes or fears should touch his patriot soul,

Between a splendid and a happy land.

Goldsmik But what affect her honour or her shame. E'en when in hostile fields he bleeds to save hier,

Whose genius was such 'Tis not his blood he loses, 'tis his country's;

We scarcely could praise him, or blame him too He only pays her back a debt he owes.

much ; To her he's bound for birth and education;

Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, Hei laws secure him from domestic feuds,

And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. And from the foreign foe her arms protect him.

Goldsmith. She lends him honours, dignity, and rank,

3226. STATUES. His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays;

So stands the statue that enchants the world. And, like a tender and indulgent mother,

Thomsen. Loads him with comforts, and would make his state As bless'd as nature and the gods design'd it.

Thereon, amongst his travels, found

A broken statue on the ground; Such gifts, my son, have their alloy of pain,

And searching onward, as he went,
And let the unworthy wretch, who will not bear

He traced a ruin'd monument.
His portion of the public burden, lose
The advantages it yields; let him retire

Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown From the dear blessings of a social life,

The sculpture of the crumbling stone; And from the sacred laws which guard those bless

Yet ere he past, with much ado,

He guess'd, and spell’d out Sci-pi-o. ings,

• Enough,' he cried ; 'I'll drudge no more Renounce the civilized abodes of man,

In turning the dull Stoics o'er.'- Watts.
With kindred brutes one common shelter seek
In horrid wilds, and dens, and dreary caves,
And with their shaggy tenants share the spoil ;

3227. STEP BY STEP. Or, if the shaggy hunters miss their prey,

HEAVEN is not reach'd at a single bound; From scatter'd acorns pick a scanty meal :

But we build the ladder by which we rise Far from the sweet civilities of life,

From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
There let him live and vaunt his wretched freedom, |

And we mount to its summit round by round.
While we, obedient to the laws that guard us,
Guard them, and live or die, as they decree.

I count this thing to be grandly true :
Hannah More. That a noble deed is a step toward God,

What were it now to toss upon the waves

The madden'd waves, and know no succour near;

The howling of the storm alone to hear, And the wild sea that to the tempest raves ;

To gaze amid the horrors of the night,

And only see the billows' gleaming light; And in the dread of death to think of her

Who, as she listens sleepless to the gale,

Puts up a silent prayer and waxes pale? O God! have mercy on the mariner Southey.

A thunder-storm !-the eloquence of heaven,
When every cloud is from its slumber riven,
Who hath not paused beneath its hollow groan,
And felt Omnipotence around him thrown?
With what a gloom the ushering scene appears !
The leaves all fluttering with instinctive fears,
The waters curling with a fellow dread,
A breezeless fervour round creation spread,
And, last, the heavy rain's reluctant shower,
With big drops pattering on the tree and bower,
While wizard shapes the lowering sky deform,
All mark the coming of a thunder-storm.

R. Montgomery.

Lifting the soul from the common clod
To a purer air and a broader view.
We rise by things that are under feet;

By what we have master'd of good and gain ;

By the pride deposed and the passion slain ; And the vanquish'd ills that we hourly meet. We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,

When the morning calls us to life and light,

But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night,
Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.
We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,

And we think that we mount the air on wings,

Beyond the recall of sensual things, While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. Wings for the angels, but feet for men!

We may borrow the wings to find the way

We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray ; But our feet must rise, or we fall again. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown

From the weary earth to the sapphire walls,

But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. Heaven is not reach'd at a single bound;

But we build the ladder by which we rise,

From the lowly earth to the vulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.

7. G. Holland. 3228. STINGINESS.

A MERCHANT famed for stinginess
Gave nought to hunger or distress;
If he had own'd the sun, instead
Of tables with all dainties spread,
He never would have loosed one ray
Of light until the judgment day.

From the Persian of Saadi. 3229. STORMS. The Mariner that on smooth waves doth glide

Sings merrily, and steers his barque with ease, As if he had command of wind and tide,

And now become great Master of the seas; But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, And makes him long for a more quiet port, Which 'gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort.

Anne Bradstreet.

Every pilot
Can steer the ship in calms; but he performs
The skilful part, can manage it in storms.

Denham. O God ! have mercy in this dreadful hour

On the poor mariner! in comfort here,
Safe shelter'd as I am, I almost sear
The blast that rages with resistless power.

3230. STORMS OF LIFE.
Amid the darkness, when the storm,

Swept fierce and wild o'er Galilee,
Was seen of old, dear Lord, Thy form,

All calmly walking on the sea; And raging elements were still, Obedient to Thy sovereign will. So on life's restless, heaving wave,

When night and storm my sky o'ercast,
Oft hast Thou come to cheer and save,

Hast changed my fear to joy at last.
Thy voice hath bid the tumult cease,
And soothed my throbbing heart to peace.
But ah! too soon my fears return,

And dark mistrust disturbs anew;
What smother'd fires within yet burn!

My days of peace, alas, how few !
These heart-throes,-shall they ne'er be past?
These strifes,-shall they for ever last?
I heed not danger, toil, nor pain,

Care not how hard the storm may beat,
If in my heart Thy peace may reign,

And faith and patience keep their seat;
If strength Divine may nerve my soul,
And love my every thought control.
Oh may that voice that quell'd the sea,

And laid the surging waves to rest,
Speak in my spirit, set me free

From passions that disturb my breast.

Jesus, I yield me to Thy will,
And wait to hear Thy ‘Peace, be still!'

Ray Palmer. 3231. STRENGTH. Growth of

VIGOUR from toil, from trouble patience grows.

The weakly blossom, warm in summer bower, Some tints of transient beauty may disclose;

But ah! it withers in the chilling hour.

Mark yonder oaks! Superior to the power Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise,

And from the stormy promontory tower They toss their giant arms amid the skies, While each assailing blast increase of strength sup

plies.- Beattie.

3232. STRENGTH. Promise of

WHEN adverse winds and waves arise,
And in my heart despondence sighs,
When life its throng of care reveals,
And weakness o'er my spirit steals,
Grateful I hear the kind decree
That-'as my day, my strength shall be.'
When, with sad footstep, memory roves,
'Mid smitten joys and buried loves,
When sleep my tearful pillow flies,
And dewy morning drinks my sighs,
Still to Thy promise, Lord, I flee,
That-'as my day, my strength shall be.'

In vain on study time away we throw,
When we forbear to act the things we know.

Denhan.
If not to some peculiar end assign'd,
Study's the specious trifling of the mind;
Or is at best a secondary aim,
A chase for sport alone, and not for game.

Young
Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six,
Four spend in prayer, the rest on nature fix.

Quoted in Latin by Sir E. Coke. Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.

Sir Im. Jones. I know what study is ; it is to toil Hard through the hours of the sad midnight watch At tasks which seem a systematic curse, And course of bootless penance. -Bailey.

All mankind are students. How to live
And how to die forms the great lesson still.

Bailey.
I am devote to study. Worthy books
Are not companions—they are solitudes;
We lose ourselves in them and all our cares.

Bailey. * Much study is a weariness.' The sage

Who gave his mind to seek and search until He knew all Wisdom-found that on the page

Knowledge and grief were vow'd companions still ! And so the students of a later day

Sit down among the records of old time

To hold high commune with the thoughts sublime of minds long gone :so they too pass away,

And leave us what? their course, to toil-reflectTo feel the thorn pierce through our gather'd flowers

Still 'midst the leaves the earth-worm to detect : And this is Knowledge.- Mrs Eames.

One trial more must yet be past,
One pang, the keenest and the last-
And when with brow convulsed and pale,
My feeble, quivering heart-strings fail,
Redeemer ! grant my soul to see
That-'as her day, her strength shall be.'

Mrs Sigourney. 3233. STUDY. STUDY is like the heaven's glorious sun,

That will not be deep search'd with saucy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.

Shakespeare.
Why, universal plodding prisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries ;
As motion and long-during action tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.

Shakespeare. Alas ! when all our lamps are burn'd,

Our bodies wasted, and our spirits spent, When we have all the learned volumes turn'd

Which yield men's wits both help and ornament, What can we know, or what can we discern?

Davies.

My midnight lamp is weary as my soul,
And, being unimmortal, has gone out.
And now alone yon moony lamp of heaven,
Which God lit, and not man, illuminates
These volumes others wrote in weariness
As I have read them; and this cheek and brow,
Whose paleness, burned in with heats of thought,
Would make an angel smile to see how ill
Clay thrust from Paradise consorts with mind, -
If angels could, like men, smile bitterly.

Urs Breunirs 3234. STYLE.

The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words; and I do know
A many fools that stand in better place,

Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word

True expression, like th' unchanging sun, Defy the matter. --Shakespeare.

Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon :

It gilds all objects, but it alters none. — Pope. Express thyself in plain, not doubtful words, That ground for quarrels or disputes affords.

Pride often guides the author's pen;

Denham. Books as affected are as men ; 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence ;

But he who studies nature's laws The sound must seem an echo to the sense :

From certain truth his maxims draws; Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows,

And those, without our schools, suffice, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;

To make men moral, good, and wise.—Gay. But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,

As veils transparent cover, but not hide, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar;

Such metaphors appear when right applied ; When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,

ow, When through the phrase we plainly see the sense, The line too labours, and the words move slow :

Truth with such obvious meanings will dispense. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,

Granville, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the

Hyperboles, so daring and so bold, main.-Pope.

Disdaining bounds, are yet by rules controli'd ; Expression is the dress of thought, and still Above the clouds, but yet within our sight, Appears more decent, as more suitable;

They mount with truth, and make a towering flight. A vile conceit in pompous words express'd

Granville, Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd. — Pope. Our lines reform’d, and not composed in haste,

Polish'd like marble, would like marble last. Some to conceit alone their tastes confine,

Waller. And curious thoughts struck out at every line

| Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit, One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. — Pope.

With painful care, but seeming easiness ;

For truth shines brightest through the plainest dress. Others for language all their care express,

Roscommon. And value books, as women men, for dress :

3235. SUBMISSION. A psalm of Their praise is still, ‘The style is excellent;' The sense they humbly take upon content.-Pope. I HOPED that with the brave and strong

My portion'd task might lie; First follow Nature, and your judgment frame

To toil amid the busy throng By her just standard, which is still the same;

With purpose pure and high ; Unerring Nature, still Divinely bright,

But God has fix'd another part, One clear, unchanged, and universal light,

And He has fix'd it well ; Life, force, and beauty must to all impart,

I said so with my breaking heart At once the source, and end, and test of art.

When first this trouble fell.

1 Pope. Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime ;

These weary hours will not be lost, 'Tis like the ladder in the patriarch's dream,

These days of misery, Its foot on earth, its height above the skies.

These nights of darkness, tempest-tost,Prior.

Can I but turn to Thee;

With secret labour to sustain Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art;

In patience every blow, No language but the language of the heart.

To gather fortitude from pain,

And holiness from woe.
He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force ;
Nor can a word be changed but for a worse.

If Thou shouldst bring me back to life,

More humble I should be,
Pope.

More wise, more strengthen'd for the strife, Commas and points they set exactly right,

More apt to lean on Thee.
And 'twere a sin to rob them of their mite.

Should death be standing at the gate,
Pope.

Thus should I keep my vow :
One simile that solitary shines

But, Lord! whatever be my fate, In the dry desert of a thousand lines.- Pope.

Oh let me serve Thee now.-Anne Bronté.

Pope.

3236. SUBMISSION. Base

Then teach us still to smile, O Lord! though sharp

the stones may be, It grieves me to the soul Remembering that they bring us near to Thee, dear To see how man submits to man's control;

Lord, to Thee !
How overpower'd and shackled minds are led
In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred.

3240. SUBMISSION. Example of

Crabbe, 3237. SUBMISSION. Blessedness of

CHRIST had His sorrows-50 must thou,

If thou wilt tread the path He trod ALMIGHTY Power, I love Thee ! blissful name,

Oh then, like Him, submissive bow,
My healer, God! and may my inmost soul

And own the sovereignty of God.
Love and adore for ever! Oh, 'tis good
To wait submissive at Thy holy throne,
To leave petitions at Thy feet, and bear

3241. SUBMISSION. tested. Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul. WHEN, blooming with the strength and pride of Thy hand of mercy is not short to save,

youth, Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf

Crown'd with Health's chaplet, mind and heart To mortal cries.- Watts.

aglow

With strong desire to serve my Lord, to sow 3238. SUBMISSION. Declaration of

Broadcast about my path rich seeds of truth,

And crush the evils which, with pois'nous tooth, SINCE 'tis Thy sentence I should part

| Lurk'd, ready for the spring and fatal blow, With the most precious treasure of my heart,

Beside the paths where men walk'd to and fro, I freely that and more resign,

I said, “I can be anything, in sooth, My heart itself, as its delight is Thine;

For Christ.' And now the dear Lord testeth me.
My little all I give to Thee,

Shorn of my strength by dread disease, I find
Thou gav'st a greater gift, Thy Son, to me.

I must be laid aside, while others bind
Take all, great God, I will not grieve,

The sheaves and sow the seed, content to be But still will wish that I had still to give;

Nothing. Lord, I am in Thy hands. For Thee I hear Thy voice, Thou bid'st me quit Nothing or anything I'll be,-resign'd.-Burr. My paradise; I bless and do submit; I will not murmur at Thy word,

3242. SUCCESS: cannot be commanded. Nor beg Thy angel to sheathe up his sword.

Norris.

'Tis not in mortals to command success;

But we'll do more, Sempronius, -we'll deserve it. 3239. SUBMISSION. Entire

Addison. God's ways are not as our ways, His thoughts are Success, the mark no mortal wit, not as ours;

Or surest hand, can always hit ; He wounds us sore with cruel thorns, where we For, whatsoe'er we perpetrate, have stoop'd for flowers;

We do but row, we're steer'd by fate. But oh ! 'tis from the oft-pierced heart those precious

Budler. drops distil,

3243. SUCCESS: not essential to happiness. That many a life, else all unblest, with healing balm shall fill :

What most of all to real happiness Then give, oh give the flower to those who pray it Doth tend, in this perplexing world of ours, so may be,

Is this—to think upon and recollect But I would choose to have the thorns, with Thee, What best we each have striven to perform, dear Lord, with Thee !

Not that in which we have succeeded best. Man judgeth man in ignorance, he seeth but in part ; Success is sweet, but sweeter still the thought Our trust is in our Maker, God, Who searcheth every That we have lived through disappointment's pang, heart;

And learn'd to feel that ill success is best ; And every wrong and every woe, when put beneath Still hoping on, with courage high, for bliss, our feet,

Far greater than this world can e'er bestow. As stepping-stones may help us on to His high | Yet hard the lesson, difficult the taskmercy-seat.

Then great the triumph-passing great the joy

« AnteriorContinuar »