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THOMAS HOOD. 1798-1845.
́E watched her breathing through the night,
As in her breast the wave of life
Kept heaving to and fro.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.
One more Unfortunate
Weary of breath,
Take her up tenderly,
Fashioned so slenderly,
The Bridge of Sighs.
That makes the heart afraid. Ode to Melancholy.
There's not a string attuned to mirth,
But has its chord in Melancholy.
I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
To know I'm further off from heaven
Than when I was a boy.
I Remember, I Remember.
Seemed washing his hands with invisible soap
In imperceptible water.
* It's no fish ye're buying, it's men's lives.
SCOTT. The Antiquary. Chap. xi.
Gold! Gold! Gold ! Gold !
Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old
To the very verge of the churchyard mould.
How widely its agencies vary
To save-to ruin-to curse- -to bless
As even its minted coins express,
Now stamped with the image of Good Queen Bess,
And now of a Bloody Mary.
Oh! would I were dead now,
Or up in my bed now,
I never was on the dull, tame shore,
SAMUEL ROGERS. 1763-1855.
GUARDIAN-ANGEL o'er his life presiding,
The soul of music slumbers in the shell,
Till waked and kindled by the master's spell;
And feeling hearts-touch them but lightly-pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!
Then, never less alone than when alone.*
Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before, --He gathers round him.
Mine be a cot beside the hill;
A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear;
That very law which moulds a tear
She was good as she was fair.
To a Tear.
Jacqueline. St. 1.
* Numquam se minus otiosum esse, quam quum otiosus, nec minus solum, quam quum solus esset.-CICERO. De Officiis. Lib. iii. cap 1.
To see her is to love her,
BURNS. Bonnie Lesley.
I will, if you please, take you to the house, and introduce you to its worthy master, whom to know is to love.-SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. Salmonia. Eighth Day.
None knew thee but to love thee.
HALLECK. On the Death of Drake.
The good are better made by ill,
As odours crushed are sweeter still.
Jacqueline. St. 3.
EDWARD BULWER LYTTON.
BENEATH the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.
Richelieu. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Take away the sword,
States can be saved without it.
In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves
Act ii. Sc. 2.
WILLIAM MASON. 1725-1797.
'HE fattest hog in Epicurus' sty.
LOVE took up the harp of Life, and smote on all
its chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling passed in
music out of sight.