Macbeth, Acti. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE. So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, Fortune her gifts may variously dispose, And these be happy called, unhappy those; But Heaven's just balance equal will appear, And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart. Not present good or ill the joy or curse, When those are placed in hope, and these in fear. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. DESPAIR. Talk not of comfort; 't is for lighter ills: Calo. BYRON. J. ADDISON. Of my reception into grace; what worse, Paradise Regained. MILTON. But future views of better or of worse. Essay on Man, Epistle III. Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, The Death of Wallenstein. HOPE. POPE. S. T. COLERIDGE. Hope of all ills that men endure, . Hope thou first-fruits of happiness! Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and thee Hope! let the wretch, once conscious of the joy, Hope! thou nurse of young desire. Whom now despairing agonies destroy, Far off the massive portals of the wood, Where the dun wall rose roofed in plumy green. Dare one go in ?-Glance backward! Dusk as night Each column, fringed with sprays of amber light. No stir nor call the sacred hush profanes; Fall muffled, as from out the upper sky. So still, one dreads to wake the dreaming air, The hollow dome is green with empty shade, Where slips a ghost that last night was the moon. Beside its pearl a sea-cloud stays its wing, Beneath, a tilted hawk is balancing. AMONG THe redwoods. Continued. The heart feels not in every time and mood The mind not always sees; but if there shine A silky glint that rides a spider-line, On a trefoil two shadow spears that cross, Three grasses that toss up their nodding heads, With spring and curve like clustered fountain-threads, Suddenly, through side windows of the eye, In a mysterious world, unpeopled yet. If death be but resolving back again. Into the world's deep soul, this is a kind Listen! A deep and solemn wind on high; The shafts of shining dust shift to and fro; The columned trees sway imperceptibly, And creak as mighty masts when trade-winds blow. The cloudy sails are set; the earth ship swings Along the sea of space to grander things. EDWARD ROWLAND SILL. Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring. Paradise Lost, Book ii. MILTON. And, when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions Of memory, images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed. Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear, (A sigh the absent claims, the dead a tear.) Epistle to Robert, Earl of Oxford, and Earl of Mortimer. PCPE For it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show s Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Clau lio: When he shall hear she died upon his words Th' idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparelled in more precious habit, Into the eye and prospect of his soul, Than when she lived indeed. Much Ado about Nothing, Activ. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE POVERTY. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel. King Lear, Act iii. Se 4. SHAKESPEARE. Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. King Lear, Act iv. Sc. 6. SHAKESPEARE. Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye T. CAMPBELL. Rest here, distrest by poverty no more. Epitaph on C. Philips. RICHES. DR. S. JOHNSON. Gold gold gold! gold! Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old How widely its agencies vary, To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless, Now stamped with the image of good Queen Bess Miss Kilmansegg. T. HOOD |