12

13

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,
the bee's collected treasures sweet,
sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet
the still small voice of gratitude.

T. GRAY

WEEP not for the gathered rose!
O mourn not for the friend that dies!
In beauty's breast the flower blows-
the soul is happy in the skies.

Weep not for these! but weep for them,
the unloved, the friendless, the unknown-
the flowers that wither on the stem,

the living that must live alone!

G. TREVOR

THE DEATH OF THE GOOD

POWER is passing from the earth

but when the great and good depart,
what is it more than this,

that man, who is from GOD sent forth,
doth yet again to GOD return?
Such ebb and flow must ever be;

then wherefore should we mourn?

W. WORDSWORTH

14

SERENADE

HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

and Phoebus 'gins arise,

his steeds to water at those springs
on chaliced flowers that lies;
and winking Mary-buds begin
to ope their golden eyes;

with everything that pretty bin:
my lady sweet, arise;

arise, arise.

W. SHAKESPEARE

15

TO A LADY, WITH FLOWERS FROM A ROMAN WALL

AKE these flowers, which purple waving

TAKE

on the ruined rampart grew,
where, the sons of freedom braving,
Rome's imperial standards flew.

Warriors from the breach of danger
pluck no longer laurels there;
they but yield the passing stranger
wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair.

SIR W. SCOTT

16.

THE RESURRECTION

EGIN the song, and strike the living lyre ;

BEG

lo, how the years to come, a numerous and wellfitted quire,

all hand in hand do decently advance

and to my song with smooth and equal measures dance.

Whilst the dance last, how long soe'er it be,
my music's voice shall bear it company;

till all gentle notes be drowned

in the last trumpet's dreadful sound.

די

THE RAINBOW

A. COWLEY

18

MY

Y heart leaps up when I behold
a rainbow in the sky!

so was it when my life began,
so is it, now I am a man,
so shall be it, when I grow old,
or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man,
and I could wish my days to be
bound each to each by natural piety.

W. WORDSWORTH

'TIS sweet to hear

at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep

the song and oar of Adria's gondolier,

by distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep;

'tis sweet to see the evening star appear;

'tis sweet to listen as the night-winds creep from leaf to leaf; 'tis sweet to view on high the rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky.

LORD BYRON

19

LITTLE IS BEST

HE that is down need fear no fall,

he that is low no pride;

he that is humble ever shall
have God to be his guide.

Fulness to such a burthen is
that go on pilgrimage;
here little, and hereafter bliss,
is best from age to age.

20

21

SIR W. SCOTT

NOT

THE PATH OF DUTY

OT once or twice in our rough island story the path of duty was the way to glory :

he that walks it, only thirsting

for the right, and learns to deaden

love of self, before his journey closes

he shall find the stubborn thistle bursting
into glossy purples, which outredden
all voluptuous garden-roses.

WE

VISIONS OF DEPARTED JOYS

́HEN midnight o'er the moonless skies
her pall of transient death has spread,
when mortals sleep, when spectres rise,
and none are wakeful but the dead;
no bloodless shape my way pursues,
no sheeted ghost my couch annoys,
visions more sad my fancy views,—
visions of long-departed joys.

W. R. SPENSER

22

THE DYING MAIDEN'S SONG

AY a garland on my hearse of the dismal yew ;

true.

My love was false, but I was firm from my hour of birth; upon my buried body lie lightly, gentle earth!

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

23

24

25

Με

HUMILITY

Y fortune might I form at will,
my canvas Zephyrs soft should fill
with gentle breath, lest ruder gales
crack the main-yard or burst the sails:
by winds that temperately blow
the barque should pass secure and slow,
nor scare me leaning on her side:
but smoothly cleave the unruffled tide.

A

SLUMBER did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:

she seemed a thing that could not feel
the touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;
she neither hears nor sees;
rolled round in earth's diurnal course
with rocks, and stones, and trees !

J. ADDISON

W. WORDSWORTH

THE VANITY OF TEARS

Εἰ τὰ δάκρυ ̓ ἡμῖν τῶν κακῶν ἦν φάρμακον,
ἀεί θ ̓ ὁ κλαύσας τοῦ πονεῖν ἐπαύετο,
ἠλλαττόμεσθ ̓ ἂν δάκρυα δόντες χρυσίον·

νῦν δ ̓ οὐ προσέχει τὰ πράγματ ̓ οὐδ ̓ ἀποβλέπει
εἰς ταῦτα, δέσποτ ̓, ἀλλὰ τὴν αὐτὴν ὁδὸν,
ἐάν τε κλαίῃς ἄν τε μὴ, πορεύσεται.
Τί οὖν ποιεῖς πλέον; οὐδέν· ἡ λύπη δ ̓ ἔχει,
ὥσπερ τὸ δένδρον τοῦτο καρπὸν, τὸ δάκρυον.

PHILEMON

26

27

Ο

CHARITY

H, golden link connecting man with man, celestial charity! oh, rarely seen since lust of rule and thirst of gold began unhallowed reign-whene'er thy look serene sheds placid influence, how. the softened mien and softened heart consenting own thy sway! thus rifted ice, enchained by winter keen, thawed by the sun, in rivers rolls away,

and glads the parched waste and sparkles to the day.

A WISH

Κείσθω δόρυ μου μίτον ἀμφιπλέκειν

ἀράχναις, μετὰ δ ̓ ἡσυχίας πολιῷ

γήρᾳ συνοικοίην·

ἀείδοιμι δὲ στεφάνοις κάρα

πόλιον στεφανώσας,

GALLY KNIGHT

28

Θρηίκιον πέλταν πρὸς ̓Αθάνας

περικίοσιν ἀγκρεμάσας θαλάμοις,
δέλτων τ ̓ ἀναπτύσσοιμι γῆρυν,
ἂν σόφοι κλέονται.

CHEERFULNESS

EVRIPIDES

Εἷς ὅρος, μία δὲ βροτοῖς ἐστὶν εὐτυχίας ὁδὸς,
θυμὸν εἴτις ἔχων ἀπενθῆ δύναται διατελεῖν βίον·
οἷς δὲ μέριμνα μὲν ἀμφιπολεῖ φρενί,

τὸ δὲ παρ ̓ ἀμάρ τε καὶ νύκτα μελλόντων χάριν
ἑὸν ἰάπτεται κέαρ, ἄκαρπον ἔχει πόνον·

τί γὰρ ἐλαφρὸν ἔτ ̓ ἐστὶν ἄπρηκτ ̓ ὀδυρόμενον δονεῖν
καρδίαν;

BACCHYLIDES

29

Ο Η

TO FORTUNE

H, Fortune, how thy restless wavering state hath fraught with cares my troubled wit!

witness this present prison, whither fate

could bear me, and the joys I quit: