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How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
THE USES OF ADVERSITY. To have a thankless child !
Sweet are the uses of adversity, King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. O, that way madness lies ; let me shun that;
As You Like It, Act i. Sc. 3.
He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend.
Eternity mourns that. 'T is an ill cure I would that I were low laid in my grave;
For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them. I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
Where sorrow 's held intrusive and turned out, King Fohn, Act ii. Sc. I.
There wisdom will not enter, nor true power,
Nor aught that dignifies humanity. I am a tainted wether of the flock.
Philip Van Artevelde, Part I. Act i. Sc. 5. H. TAYLOR. Merchant of Venice, Act iv. Sc. I.
The good are better made by ill, No words suffice the secret soul to show,
As odors crushed are sweeter still. For truth denies all eloquence to woe.
As aromatic plants bestow
No spicy fragrance while they grow ;
Diffuse their balmy sweets around.
Though turned astray, is sunshine still.
Be lessons right severe,
There's wit there, ye 'll get there,
Ye'll find nae otherwhere. From out the bitterness of things.
Epistle 10 Davie. Addressed to Sir G. H. B.
By adversity are wrought 'T is impious in a good man to be sad.
The greatest works of admiration, Night Thoughts, Night iv.
DR. E. YOUNG.
And all the fair examples of renown
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged
To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours
-On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues. Weeping upon his bed has sate,
Paradise Lost, Book vii.
BEAUMONT and FLETCHER.
Like a ball that bounds The Lord of the Isles, Cant. i.
SCOTT. According to the force with which 't was thrown,
So in affliction's violence, he that 's wise
NABB. To an AMicled Protestant Lady.
O, fear not in a world like this, Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your
And thou shalt know erelong, — anguish —
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
the angel wrote, and venieR.. The wat night It came ofrin, with a great walkering helt hind shed the names álom lwe open bat bica had be! Ben Adhim's name tið all the rate
Kere on this bless Thanksginning tights the raise To The our grateful voico; for what Than daess, Loc, is righe Ance This keliening Rue refaics.
dens, idle tems, I know not what they mun, Tears from the depth of some dirine despair hise in the heart & gather to the eyes In looking no the happy autumn fields, And thinking on the days that are no more.