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'tis sweet to see the evening star appear;
'tis sweet to listen as the night-winds creep from leaf to leaf; 'tis sweet to view on high
the rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky.
LITTLE IS BEST
E that is down need fear no fall,
he that is low no pride; he that is humble ever shall
have God to be his guide.
that go on pilgrimage;
SIR W. SCOTT
THE PATH OF DUTY
OT once or twice in our rough island story
the path of duty was the way to glory :
VISIONS OF DEPARTED JOY'S
WHEN midnight o’er the moonless skies
her pall of transient death has spread,
W. R. SPENSER 22
THE DYING MAIDEN'S SONG
AY a garland on my hearse of the dismal yew;
My love was false, but I was firm from my hour of birth; upon my buried body lie lightly, gentle earth !
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER
MY fortune might I form at will,
A SLUMBER hlid am fcepisit seal;
I had no human fears :
the touch of earthly years.
she neither hears nor sees ;
THE VANITY OF TEARS
Έι τα δάκρυ' ημίν των κακών ήν φάρμακον,
H, golden link connecting man with man,
celestial charity ! oh, rarely seen since lust of rule and thirst of gold began
unhallowed reign-whene'er thy look serene
sheds placid influence, how. the softened mien and softened heart consenting own thy sway !
thus rifted ice, enchained by winter keen, thawed by the sun, in rivers rolls away, and glads the parched waste and sparkles to the day.
Είς όρος, μία δε βροτοίς έστιν ευτυχίας οδος,
hath fraught with cares my troubled wit!
could bear me, and the joys I quit:
thou causedest the guilty to be losed
causing the guiltless to be strait reserved
and freeing those that death had well deserved. But by her envy can be nothing wrought, so God send to my foes all they have thought.
THE GOOD LIFE LONG LIFE
is not growing like a tree
in bulk, doth make Man better be;
a lily of a day
is fairer far in May,
it was the plant and flower of Light.
ON A GRECIAN URN
to what green altar, O mysterious priest, lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
and all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
still with a well-prepared breast; nor let thy shackles make thee sad; thou canst but have, what others had. And this for comfort thou must know, times that are ill wont still be so:
Clouds will not ever pour down rain:
TO MR WILLIAM BROWNE
O much a stranger my severer Muse
but that she knows some rites of Phæbus' dues,
of Pan, of Pallas and her sister's meed. Read and commend she durst these tuned essays
of him that loves her (she hath ever found her studies as one circle). Next she prays his readers be with rose and myrtle crowned ! no willow touch them! As his bays are free from wrong of bolts, so may their chaplets be!
crushing the air to sweetness;
When from some doomed city
her gods depart, such sound
in refluent airs half drowned,
by kneelers on the ground.
A. DE VERE
LIFE THROUGH DEATH
but in a shell received, that drop of dew