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442

PASSIONS - FEELING.

5. The ruling passion, be it what it will, The ruling passion conquers reason still.

6. Like mighty rivers, with resist less force
The passions rage, obstructed in their course,
Swell to new heights, forbidden paths explore,
And drown those virtues which they fed before.

7. The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.

8. When headstrong passion gets the reins of reason,
The force of nature, like too strong a gale,
For want of ballast, oversets the vessel.

POPE.

POPE.

BROOKE.

HIGGONS.

9. While passions glow, the heart, like heated steel, Takes each impression, and is worked at pleasure.

YOUNG'S Busiris.

10. Then shall the fury Passions tear, The vultures of the mind;

Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear,

And Shame, that skulks behind;
Or pining Love shall waste their youth,
Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth,

That inly gnaws the secret heart;
And Envy wan, and faded Care,
Grim-visag'd, comfortless Despair,
And Sorrow's piercing dart.

11. His soul, like bark with rudder lost,
On passion's changeful tide was toss'd;
Nor vice nor virtue had the power
Beyond the impression of the hour:-
And, Oh, when passion rules, how rare
The hours that fall to virtue's share!

GRAY.

SCOTT'S Rokeby.

12. How terrible is passion! how our reason
Falls down before it, while the tortur'd frame,
Like a ship dash'd by fierce encountering tides,
And of her pilot spoil'd, drives round and round,
The sport of wind and wave.

BARFORD'S Virgin Queen.

13. The passions are a numerous crowd, Imperious, positive, and loud.

14. O, how the passions, insolent and strong,
Bear our weak minds their rapid course along;
Make us the madness of their will obey;
Then die, and leave us to our griefs a prey!

15. Ah! within my bosom beating,

Varying passions wildly reign;
Love, with proud resentment meeting,
Throbs, by turn, with joy and pain!

16. As rolls the ocean's changing tide, So human passions ebb and flow.

17. The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void,

The leafless desert of the mind,

The waste of feelings unemploy'd.

CRABBE.

MRS. ROBINSON.

BYRON.

BYRON'S Giaour.

18. The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name;

But mine was like the lava-flood

That boils in Etna's breast of flame.

19. For on his brow the swelling vein
Throbb'd, as if back upon his brain
The hot blood ebb'd and flow'd again.

BYRON'S Giaour.

BYRON'S Parisina.

444

PASSIONS-FEELING.

20. There are some feelings time cannot benumb.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

21. An empire thou couldst crush, command, rebuild, But govern not thy pettiest passion.

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23. My passions were all living serpents, and Twin'd, like the gorgons, round me.

BYRON'S Werner.

24. It was not strange; for in the human breast Two master passions cannot co-exist.

25. The wildest ills that darken life
Are rapture to the bosom's strife;
The tempest, in its blackest form,
Is beauty to the bosom's storm.

CAMPBELL.

J. W. EASTBURNE.

26. And underneath that face, like summer's ocean's,

Its lip as noiseless, and its cheek as clear,
Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions,
Love-hatred-pride-hope-sorrow-all, save fear.
FITZ-GREEN HALLECK.

27. But, all in vain, to thought's tumultuous flow
I strive to give the strength of glowing words;
The waves of feeling, tossing to and fro,

In broken music o'er my heart's loose chords,
Give but their fainting echoes from my soul,

As thro' its silent depths their wild, swift currents roll.
MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

28. "Tis chainless as the mountain tide,

That its resistless way doth force,
O'er crags and cliffs on either side,
Right onward in its headlong course.

J. T. WATSON.

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SHAKSPEARE.

PEACE.

1. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

2. In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility.

3. The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, For want of fighting was grown rusty,

And ate into itself, for lack

Of somebody to hew and hack.

SHAKSPEARE.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

4. Oh, peace! thou source and soul of social life;

5.

Beneath whose calm, inspiring influence

Science his view enlarges, Art refines,

And swelling Commerce opens all her ports;
Blest be the man divine who gave us thee!

Now no more the drum

Provokes to arms, or trumpet's clangour shrill
Affrights the wives, or chills the virgins' blood;
But joy and pleasure open to the view

Uninterrupted.

38

THOMSON.

PHILIPS' Cider.

446

PEASANT - PEDIGREE-PERFECTION.

6. Oh! there were hours when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears
The heartsick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woes, the bloodshed, and the tears,
That track'd with terror twenty rolling years!

SCOTT's Lord of the Isles.

7. Peace is the bounteous goddess who bestows
Weddings, and holidays, and joyous feasts,
Relations, friends, health, plenty, social comforts,
And pleasures which alone make life a blessing.

CUMBERLAND's Philemon.

PEASANT.—(See BLACKSMITH.)

PEDIGREE.-(See ANCESTRY.)

PERFECTION.

1. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper light

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

2. Nature in her productions, slow, aspires
By just degrees to reach perfection's height.

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SHAKSPEARE.

SOMERVILE'S Chase.

The growth of what is excellent; so hard
T' attain perfection in this nether world.

COWPER'S Task.

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