4. The flying rumours gather'd as they roll'd;
Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told,
And all who told it added something new,
And all who heard it, made enlargement too;
In every ear it spread, on every tongue it grew.

POPE'S Temple of Fame.

REPROOF.

1. Thou turn'st my eyes into my very soul,
And there I see such black and grainèd spots
As will not leave their tinct.

2. Forbear sharp speeches to her: she's a lady So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes, And strokes, death to her.

3.

Pr'ythee, forgive me;

I did but chide in jest; the best loves use it
Sometimes; it sets an edge upon affection.

SHAKSPEARE.

SHAKSPEARE.

MIDDLETON.

4. Reprove not in their wrath incensed men ;
Good counsel comes clean out of season then:
But when their fury is appeas'd and past,
They will conceive their faults, and mend at last.

. 1.

REPUTATION.—(See CHARACTER.)

RANDOLPH.

RESOLUTION.-(See DETERMINATION.)

RETIREMENT.-(See HERMIT.)

REWARD.

Thou prun'st a rotten tree,

That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.

SHAKSPEARE.

468

REVENGE - VENGEANCE.

2. Thus unlamented pass the proud away,

The gaze of fools, the pageant of a day:
So perish all whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow
For others' good, or melt at others' wo.

3. The world's best comfort was, his doom was past— Die when he might, he must be damn'd at last.

4. So fares the follower of the Muses' train;
He toils to starve, and only lives in death;
We slight him till our patronage is vain,

Then round his skeleton a garland wreathe.

POPE.

COWPER.

Rejected Addresses.

5. Do thou the good thy thoughts oft meditate,
And thou shalt feel the good man's peace within,
And after death his wreath of glory win.

CARLOS WILCOX.

REVENGE VENGEANCE.

1. Oh, that the slave had forty thousand lives! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge!

SHAKSPEARE.

2. I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here;
Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear;
The which no balm can cure but his heart's blood,
Which breath'd this poison.

3. The fairest action of our human life

4.

Is scorning to revenge an injury;
For who forgives without a further strife,
His adversary's heart to him doth tie:
And 't is a finer conquest, truly said,
To win the heart, than overthrow the head.

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils.

SHAKSPEARE.

LADY E. CAREW.

MILTON'S Paradise Lost.

5.

It wounds, indeed,

To bear affronts too great to be forgiven,
And not have power to punish.

6. Patience!

my

soul disdains its stoic maxim,

The coward's virtue, and the knave's disguise:
O vengeance! take me all-I'm wholly thine!

7. These the sole accents from his tongue that fell, But volumes lurk'd below that fierce farewell.

8.

There are things

DRYDEN.

BYRON'S Island.

Which make revenge a virtue by reflection,
And not an impulse of mere anger; though
The law sleeps, justice wakes, and injur❜d souls
Oft do a public right with private wrong.

BYRON'S Marino Faliero.

9. No! When the battle rages dire,
And the rous'd soul is all on fire,
Think'st thou a noble heart can stay,
Hate's rancorous impulse to obey?

10.

MRS. HOLFORD's Margaret of Anjou. Revenge we find

The abject pleasure of an abject mind.

GIFFORD'S Juvenal.

11.

Whom vengeance track'd so long,
Feeding its torch with the thought of wrong.

RIDICULE-SHAME.

1.

For often vice, provok'd to shame,
Borrows the colour of a virtuous deed:

J. G. WHITTIER.

Thus libertines are chaste, and misers good,

A coward valiant, and a priest sincere.

SEWELL'S Sir Walter Raleigh.

470

RIGHT-RIVERS.

2. I can bear scorpions' stings, tread fields of fire;
In frozen gulfs of cold eternal lie;

Be toss'd aloft through tracts of endless void -
But cannot live in shame.

JOANNA BAILLIE.

3. For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh, Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn.

THOMSON'S Seasons.

RIGHT. (See INJUSTICE.)

RIVERS.

1. See the rivers - how they run

Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,

Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,

Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life, to endless sleep.

DYER'S Gronger Hill.

2. O! I have thought, and, thinking, sigh'd,

3.

How like to thee, thou restless tide,
May be the lot, the life of him
Who roams along thy water's brim !
Through what alternate shades of woe
And flowers of joy, my path may go!
How many an humble, still retreat
May rise to court my weary feet,
While, still pursuing, still unblest,
I wander on, nor dare to rest!

-The channels worn

By ever-flowing streams- arteries of earth,
That, widely branching, circulate its blood;
Whose ever-throbbing pulses are the tides.

MOORE.

THOMAS WARD.

4. But thou, unchang'd from year to year,

Gayly shalt play and glitter here;
Amid young flowers and tender grass,
Thine endless infancy shalt pass;
And, singing down thy narrow glen,
Shall mock the fading race of men.

W. C. BRYANT.

5. Who
may trace the ways that ye have taken,
Ye streams and drops? who separate ye all,
And find the many places ye 've forsaken,

To come and rush together down the fall?

MISS HANNAH F. GOULD.

6. So blue yon winding river flows,
It seems an outlet from the sky,
Where, waiting till the west wind blows,
The freighted clouds at anchor lie.

RURAL SCENES - TOWN AND COUNTRY.

1. Here laden carts with thundering wagons meet, Wheels clash with wheels, and bar the narrow street. GAY'S Trivia.