Yet found she something still for which to live,- 3558. WORDS: can never be recalled. WHAT you keep by you, you may change and mend; But words once spoke can never be recall'd. Roscommon. Words have wings, and as soon as their cage, the Sometimes the thickest walls: their nature's as 3559. WORDS. Effect of OH, many a shaft at random sent And many a word at random spoken Scott. But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.-Byron. Words are mighty, words are living, Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us With heaven's light upon their wings. Every word has its own spirit, True or false, that never dies; Every word man's lips have utter'd Echoes in God's skies. I have known a spirit, calmer Than the calmest lake, and clear! As the heavens that gazed upon it, With no wave of hope or fear; But a storm had swept across it, And its deepest depths were stirr'd (Never, never more to slumber), Only by a word.-Adelaide A. Procter. It was but a little word, Mid gloomy clouds and rain, The 'word' came back again Like any bird. Came back to trouble me; But not alone; My winged word had grown Into a sentence, And brought repentance That had but wrought Me misery. Words are like thistle-seed; Mind what you sow, And where your blossoms grow. On wings of down, A harvest they will yield: The warning heed !-M. A. Kidder. The cruel and the bitter word, That wounded as it fell, We feel, but never tell, The hard repulse that chills the heart Whose hopes were bounding high,— In an unfading record kept, These things shall never die. Let nothing pass; for every hand Beam on thee from on high, "These things shall never die !' The strongest love hath yet, at times, A weakness in its power; And latent sickness often sends The madness of an hour! To her I loved, in bitterness I said a cruel thing: Ah me! how much of misery From idle words may spring! I loved her then-I love her still; And when, with tears of wonder, she I coldly turn'd away mine eyes, And many an idle thing: Ah me! how much of misery From idle words may spring! 'Twas over soon, the cause,-not soon The sad effects pass'd by; They rule beneath the winter's sun, I sought forgiveness,—she forgave, From idle words may spring! Month after month, year after year, I strove to win again The heart an idle word had lost, But strove, alas! in vain. Ye little know what misery From idle words may spring. 3560. WORDS. Eloquent THAT glorious burst of wingèd words!-how bound they from his tongue! The full expression of the mighty thought, the strong, triumphant argument, The rush of native eloquence, resistless as Niagara, The keen demand, the clear reply, the fine, poetic image, The nice analogy, the clinching fact, the metaphor bold and free, The grasp of concentrated intellect wielding the omnipotence of truth.-Tupper. 3561. WORDS: expressions of thought. WORDS are the soul's embassadors, who go NAY, speak no ill; a kindly word Can never leave a sting behind; And, oh, to breathe each tale we've heard Is far beneath a noble mind; For oft a better seed is sown By choosing thus a kinder plan; Let's speak of all the good we can. And speak of all the best we can. Then speak no ill, but lenient be To others' feelings as your own; If you're the first a fault to see, Be not the first to make it known. No lip can tell how brief the stay: And speak of all the best we may. 3563. WORDS: real character. 'Tis only man can words create, And cut the air to sounds articulate By nature's special charter. Nay, speech can 3564. WORDS. Use of James Howel. WORDS are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, Expression is the dress of thought, and still Be not the first by whom the new are tried, IN His furrow'd fields around us Shall we find these hills, and plant them? Glory waits the faithful workmen The bees are stirring, birds are on the wing, And winter, slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of spring; 3569. WORK: necessary as well as prayer. I paused by a smithy, smoke-blacken'd, and where The brawny-arm'd blacksmith, with blows fast and strong, Was pounding out horse - shoes and singing this song: 'Bread and butter, potatoes and meat, And the ring of the anvil seem'd to say:— And the blows fell faster and faster still, Mid shower of fire and rain of sweat The brawny blacksmith is toiling yet ; But he taught a lesson for all, that day, How to work with the hammer as well as to pray. 3570. WORK: universal. Leverich. No gain, but by its price; labour, for the poor man's meal, Ofttimes heart-sickening toil, to win him a morsel for his hunger; Labour, for the chapman at his trade, a dull, unvaried round, Year after year, unto death; yea, what a weariness is it ! Labour, for the pale-faced scribe, drudging at his hated desk, Who bartereth for needful pittance the untold gold of health; Labour, with fear, for the merchant, whose hopes are ventured on the sea; Labour, with care, for the man of law, responsible in his gains; Labour, with envy and annoyance, where strangers will thee wealth; Labour, with indolence and gloom, where wealth falleth from a father; Labour, unto all, whether aching thews, or aching head, or spirit The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is labour. Nevertheless, to the diligent, labour bringeth blessing: The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is a pleasure; And time spent in doing hath a comfort that is not for the idle ; The hardship is transmuted into joy, by the dear alchemy of mercy; Labour is good for a man, bracing up his energies to conquest, And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless; For wearily the body groaneth, like a door on rusty hinges, And the grasp of the mind is weaken'd, as the talons of a caged vulture.-Tupper. O! it is beautiful to see this world, And year by year, and century after century ; In calm and simple grandeur.—Atherstone. Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth God's world is bathed in beauty, That makes the day so bright, Floating on clouds above, And fill the earth with song. God's world has one great echo, Or lingering dew-drops quiver, Through the great heart of God's world. 3575. WORLD. Different views of the 'Tis a very good world that we live in To lend, or to spend, or to give in; But to borrow or beg, or get a man's own, I've tried this world in all its changes, It is not worth the bustle that it costs; 'Tis but a medley, all of idle hopes, And abject childish fears.—Madden. |