468 IRVING. -NAPIER. — MUHLENBERG.

WASHINGTON IRVING. 1783-1859.

Free-livers on a small scale, who are prodigal within the compass of a guinea. The Stout Gentleman.

The Almighty Dollar, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine devotees in these peculiar villages.1

The Creole Village.

SIR W. F. P. NAPIER. 1785-1860.

Napoleon's troops fought in bright fields, where every helmet caught some beams of glory, but the British soldier conquered under the cool shade of aristocracy; no honours awaited his daring, no despatch gave his name to the applauses of his countrymen; his life of danger and hardship was uncheered by hope, his death. unnoticed. Peninsular War (1810). Vol. ii. Book xi. Ch. 3.

WILLIAM A. MUHLENBERG. 1796-1877.

I would not live alway; I ask not to stay,
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.
I would not live alway.

1 Whilst that for which all virtue now is sold,
And almost every vice, almighty gold.

Ben Jonson, Epistle to Elizabeth.
No; let the monarch's bags and coffers hold
The flattering, mighty, nay al-mighty gold.

Peter Pindar, Ode iv. to Kien Long.

DECATUR.—STORY. - PERRY.-JAMES. 469

STEPHEN DECATUR. 1779-1820.

Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong. Toast given at Norfolk, April, 1816.

JOSEPH STORY. 1779-1845.

Here shall the Press the People's right maintain,
Unawed by influence and unbribed by gain;
Here patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw,
Pledged to Religion, Liberty, and Law.

Motto of the Salem Register. Life of Story, Vol. i. p. 127.

OLIVER H. PERRY. 1785-1820.

We have met the enemy, and they are ours.

Letter to General Harrison, dated "United States Brig Niagara.

Off the Western Sisters. Sept. 10, 1813. 4 P. M."

PAUL MOON JAMES. 1780-1854.

The scene was more beautiful, far, to the eye,
Than if day in its pride had arrayed it.

The Beacon.

And o'er them the lighthouse looked lovely as hope. That star of life's tremulous ocean.

Ibid.

LORD BYRON. 1788-1824.

Farewell! if ever fondest prayer

For other's weal availed on high,

Mine will not all be lost in air,

But waft thy name beyond the sky. Farewell! if ever.

I only know we loved in vain :

Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. Line 6.

'T is pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print;

A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't. Line 51.

With just enough of learning to misquote.

As soon

Seek roses in December, ice in June;

Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff,
Believe a woman, or an epitaph,

Line 66.

Or any other thing that's false, before

You trust in critics.

Line 75.

Perverts the Prophets and purloins the Psalms. Line 326.

O Amos Cottle! Phoebus! what a name!

Line 399.

So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart.1

1 Compare Waller. Page 176.

Line 826.

Yet truth will sometimes lend her noblest fires,
And decorate the verse herself inspires:
This fact, in Virtue's name, let Crabbe attest:
Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best.

English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. Line 839.

Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, O, give me back my heart!

Maid of Athens.

Had sighed to many, though he loved but one.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 5.
If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.

Stanza 7.

Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.

Stanza 9.

Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

Might shake the saintship of an anchorite.

Adieu, adieu! my native shore

Fades o'er the waters blue.

My native land, good night!

Stanza 10.

Stanza 11.

O Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land.

Stanza 13.

Ibid.

Stanza 15.

Stanza 20.

In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see
For one who hath no friend, no brother there.

Stanza 40.

Still from the fount of Joy's delicious springs
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.1

1 Medio de fonte leporum

Surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat.

Stanza 82.

Lucretius, iv. 1133.

War, war is still the

66

cry, war even to the knife! "1 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto i. Stanza 86.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that

were.

Canto ii. Stanza 2.

Ibid.

A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of

Ibid.

power.

The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul.

Stanza 6.

Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy?

Stanza 23.

None are so desolate but something dear,
Dearer than self, possesses or possessed.

Stanza 24.

But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,

And roam along, the world's tired denizen,

With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.

Stanza 26.

Cooped in their winged, sea-girt citadel.

Stanza 28.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth!

Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great!

Stanza 73.

Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not,

Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow?

Stanza 76.

A thousand years scarce serve to form a state;

An hour may lay it in the dust.

Stanza 84.

Land of lost gods and godlike men.

Stanza 85.

i "War even to the knife," was the reply of Palafox, the governor of Saragossa, when summoned to surrender by the French, who besieged that city in 1808.

2 And keeps that palace of the soul. - Waller, Of Tea.