77. Oh! would that love were ever still the same —
Unchang'd, unbiass'd, constant and sincere ;
Would that the heart, that owns a sacred flame,
Might never dim its brightness with a tear!
But human hearts, alas! too often show
That love may sometimes banquet upon wo.

DAWES' Geraldine.

78. Love not, love not the thing you love may change,

The rosy lip may cease to smile on you;
The kindly beaming eye grow cold and strange,
The heart still warmly beat, and not for you.

79. Ere yet my boyhood's years had flown,
I gaz'd on thee as some fair star,
And wildly worshipp'd as it shone
Above my humble world afar.
But while I gaz'd and still ador'd,

On bolder wings wrapt Fancy soar'd,

MRS. NORTON.

To make that bright and blissful sphere mine own.

80. I dare not linger near thee, as a brother,

FRY'S Leonora.

I feel my burning heart would still be thine;

How could I hope my passionate thoughts to smother,
When yielding all the sweetness to another

Which should be mine!

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

81. For love, at first, is but a dreamy thing,
That slily nestles in the human heart,
A morning lark, which never plumes his wing
Till hopes and fears, like lights and shadows. part.

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

82. Love drew your image on "my heart of hearts," And memory preserves it beautiful.

MRS. OSGOOD.

LUST.

83. Sincere! When day and night fail to succeed

381

When the stars shall all fall, and the earth cease to move-
When the wolf and the lambkin together shall feed,
And truth turn to error-then, then doubt my love!
But, as long as cold chills us -as long as fire burns
As long as his spots to the leopard adhere —
As long as the needle to its dear North pole turns
As long as there's Truth - call it not insincere!
J. T. WATSON.

84. That love is sordid which doth need

Gold's filthy dust its fires to feed:

That acts a higher, nobler part,

Which comes, unfetter'd, from the heart.

J. T. WATSON.

LUST.

1. Call it not Love, for love to heaven is fled,
Since sweating Lust on earth usurps her name;
Under whose simple semblance he hath fed
Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame.

SHAKSPEARE.

2. Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;
Love surfeits not - Lust, like a glutton, dies;
Love is all truth-Lust full of foulest lies.

SHAKSPEARE.

3. But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree
Laden with blooming gold, doth need the guard
Of dragon-watch, with unenchanted eye,
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit
From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.

MILTON'S Comus.

5. Lust is, of all the frailties of our nature,
What most we ought to fear; the headstrong beast
Rushes along, impatient of the course;

Nor hears the rider's call, nor feels the rein.

6. There are in love the extremes of touch'd desire-
The noblest brightness, or the coarsest fire;
In vulgar bosoms vulgar wishes move,

Nature guides choice, and, as men think, they love.
In the loose passion men profane the name,
Mistake the purpose, and pollute the flame;
In nobler bosoms, friendship's form it takes,
And sex alone the lovely difference makes.

ROWE.

AARON HILL.

7. Oh, lost to honour's voice! Oh, doom'd to shame! Thou fiend accurst! thou murderer of fame!

*

From innocence to tear

That name, than liberty, than life more dear.
Where shall thy baseness meet its just return?
Or what repay thy guilt, but endless scorn?

8. Within the heart which Love illumes,
And blesses with his sacred rays,

If meaner passion e'er presumes,

It fades before the hallow'd blaze.

POPE.

9. Infected with that leprosy of lust

Совв.

Which taints the hoariest years of vicious men,
Making them ransack, to the very last,

The dregs of pleasure for their vanish'd joys.

BYRON'S Marino Faliero.

LUXURY.

1. And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A perfume-box, which, ever and anon,

He

gave

his nose, and took 't away again.

SHAKSPEARE.

2. What will not luxury use? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare;
Blood stuff'd in skins is British Christians' food,
And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.

GAY's Trivia.

3. If every just man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly pamper'd Luxury
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well dispens'd,
And then the Giver would be better thank'd.

MILTON'S Comus.

4. War destroys man, but luxury, mankind— At once corrupts the body and the mind.

5. Then, since the time we have to live
In this world is so short, we'll strive
To make our best advantage of it,
And pay our losses with our profit.

6. Wine and beauty, thus inviting, Each to different joys exciting,

Whither shall my choice

line?

CROWN'S Caligula.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

I'll waste no longer thought in choosing,
But neither this nor that refusing,

I'll make them both together mine!

GOLDSMITH.

7. O luxury! thou curs'd by heaven's decree,
How ill-exchang'd are things like these for thee?
How do thy potions, with insidious joy,

Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!

GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village..

8. And such dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

9. Fell luxury! more perilous to youth
Than storms or quicksands, poverty or chains!

GOLDSMITH.

HANNAH MORE.

10. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-grey, and a' that?

Give fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that.

11. Sofas, 't was half a sin to sit upon,

So costly were they; carpets, every stitch
Of workmanship so rare, they made you wish
You could glide o'er them like a golden fish.

12. All that can eye or sense delight,

Were gather'd in that gorgeous sight.

BURNS.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

13. What though they tell, with phizzes long,
My years are sooner past!

I would reply, with reason strong,
They're sweeter while they last.

14. But this I know, and this I feel,
As onward to the tomb I steal,
That still, as death approaches nearer,
The joys of life are sweeter dearer;
And, had I but one hour to live,
That little hour to bliss I'd give!

BYRON'S Giaour.

CHARLES SPRAGUE.

MOORE'S Anacreon.