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She is of the best blood, yet betters it
With all the graces of an excellent spirit:
Mild as the infant rose, and innocent
As when heav'n lent her us. Her mind as well
As face, is yet a paradise untainted
With blemishes, or the spreading weeds of vice.
Robert Baron's Mirza.
Her even carriage is as far from coyness
As from immodesty;-in play, in dancing,
In suffering courtship, in requiting kindness,
In use of places—hours-and companions,
Free as the sun, and nothing more corrupted;
As circumspect as Cynthia in her vows,
And constant as the centre to observe them.
Accomplishments were native to her mind,
Like precious pearls within a clasping shell,
And winning grace her every act refined,
Like sunshine shedding beauty where it fell.
Give me good proofs of what you have alleged:
'Tis not enough to say-in such a bush
There lies a thief-in such a cave a beast,-
But you must show him to me ere I shoot,
Else I may kill one of my straggling sheep:
I'm fond of no man's person but his virtue.
Crown's 1st part of Henry VI.
None have accused thee; 'tis thy conscience cries,
The witness in the soul that never dies;
Its accusation, like the moaning wind,
Of wintry midnight moves thy startled mind;
Oh! may it melt thy hardened heart, and bring
From out thy frozen soul the life of spring.
Away then, work with boldness and with speed, On greatest actions greatest dangers feed.
Marloe's Lust of Dominion. Whilst timorous knowledge stands considering Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. For who knows most, the more he knows to douht; The least discourse is commonly most stout.
Daniel. for good and well must in our actions meet; Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
Good actions crown themselves with lasting bays,
Who deserves well needs not another's praise.
Of every noble action, the intent
Is to give worth reward,-vice punishment.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Captain.
If thou doest ill, the joy fades, not the pains;
If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains.
Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path:
For emulation hath a thousand sons,
That one by one pursue: if you give way,
Or edge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost.
Shaks. Troi, and Cress.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees,
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them.
Come,-I have learn'd, that fearful commenting
Is laden servitor to dull delay;
Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary.
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!
Go, muster men: my counsel is my shield:
We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.
Shaks. Richard III.
Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,
Unless the deed go with it: from this moment,
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought
Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt
At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound
Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within
Lights on his feet.
He who hath never warr'd with misery,
Nor ever tugg'd with fortune and distress,
Hath had n' occasion, nor no field to try
The strength and forces of his worthiness;
Those parts of judgment which felicity
Keeps as conceal'd, affliction must express,
And only men show their abilities,
And what they arc, in their extremities.
Daniel on the Earl of Southampton.
By adversity are wrought
The greatest works of admiration,
And all the fair examples of renown,
Out of distress and misery are grown.
Daniel on the Earl of Southampton.
Not one care wanting hour my life had tasted;
But from the very instant of my birth,
Incessant woes my tired heart have wasted,
And my poor thoughts are ignorant of mirth,
Look how one wave another still pursueth,
When some great tempest holds their troops in
Or as one hour another close reneweth,
Milton's Paradise Lost. Or posting day supplies another's place,
Byron's Giaour. According to the force with which 'twas throwr
So in affliction's violence, he that's wise,
The more he's cast down, will the higher rise.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footsteps on the sands of time.
Though affliction, at the first, doth ver
Longfellows Poems. Most virtuous natures, from the sense that 'tis
Unjustly laid; yet when the amazement, which
That new pain brings, is worn away, they then
Embrace oppression straight, with such
Obedient cheerfulness, as if it came
From heaven, not man.
Sir William Davenant's Fair Favourite. Something had been amiss
Sweet are the uses of adversity;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head:
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
Shaks. As you like it.
As we do turn our backs
From our companion, thrown into his grave;
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd: and this poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone.
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends,
But yet they could have wish'd-they knew not-
-a noble nature
May catch a wrench-would all were all well-
And so, intending other serious matters,
With certain half caps, and cold moving nods,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
They froze me into silence.
Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Shaks. As you like it. Nay then farewell!
I have touch'd the highest point of all my great
And, from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting; I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive | An old man, broken with the storms of state,
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again,
But where they mean to sink ye.
Shaks. Henry VIII.
Then was I a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but, in one
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Such a house broke!
So noble a master fallen! all gone! and not
One friend, to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him.
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him,
Shaks. Henry VII:
And found the blessedness of being little
For then, and not till then, he felt himself
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died, fea.ing God.
Shaks Henry VIII.
'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with for-
Must fall out with men too: what the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall; for men, Like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.
Shaks. Troi. and Cres.
If I once fall, how many knees, now bending,
Would stamp the heel of hate into my breast!
Sir A. Hunt's Julian.
I am not now in fortune's power:
He that is down, can fall no lower.
Now let us thank th' eternal power; convinc'd
That heaven but tries our virtue by affliction:
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour,
Serves but to brighten all our future days.
Daughter of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge, and torturing hour,
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan,
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied, and alone.
Gray's Hymn to Adversity.
The gods in bounty work up storms about us,
That give mankind occasion to exert
Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice
Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal'd
In the smooth seasons and the calms of life.
How sudden are the blows of fate! what change,
What revolution, in the state of glory!
Cibber's Cæsar in Egypt.
I will bear it
With all the tender sufferance of a friend,
As calmly as the wounded patient bears
The artist's hand that ministers his cure.
All evils natural are moral goods;
All discipline, indulgence, on the whole.
Young's Night Thoughts
When a great mind falls,
The noble nature of man's gen'rous heart
Doth bear him up against the shame of ruin,
With gentle censure, using but his faults
As modest means to introduce his praise;
For pity, like a dewy twilight, comes
To close th' oppressive splendour of his day,
And they who but admired him in his height
His altered state lament, and love him fall'n.
Joanna Baillie's Basil
For as when merchants break, o'erthrown
Like ninepins, they strike others down.
Tho' losses and crosses
Be lessons right severe,
There's wit there, ye'll get there,
Ye'll find nae other where.
Burns's Epistle to Davie
The brave unfortunate are our best acquaintance;
They show us virtue may be much distress'd,
Otway's Orphan. And give us their example how to suffer.
Deserted at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed.
Dryden's Alexander's Feast.
Ev'n o'er an enemy oppress'd, and heap
Affliction on the afflicted, is the mark,
And the mean triumph of a dastard soul.
Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue:
Where patience, honour, sweet humanity,
Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish.
Mallet and Thomson's Alfred.
Who has not known ill fortune, never knew
Himself, or his own virtue.
Francis's Eugenia. ↳
In this wild world the fondest and the best,
Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress'd.
That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press:
But these did shelter him beneath their roof,
When less barbarians would have cheer'd him less,
And fellow countrymen have stood aloof —
In aught that tries the heart, how few withstand
Byron's Childe Harold.
Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs on the midnight blast,
Is that portentous phrase, “I told you so,”
Utter'd by friends, those prophets of the past,
Mallet and Thomson's Alfred. Who, 'stead of saying what you now should do,
Ye good distress'd!
Own they foresaw that you would fall at last,
And solace your slight lapse 'gainst "bonos mores,"
With a long memorandum of old stories.
Ye noble few! who here unbending stand
Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile,
And what your bounded view, which only saw
A little part, deem'd evil, is no more;
The storms of wintry time will quickly pass,
And one unbounded spring encircle all.
Affliction is the good man's shining scene;
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray;
As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
Young's Night Thoughts.
We bleed, we tremble, we forget, we smile,
The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry.
Young's Night Thoughts.
I have not quailed to danger's brow
When high and happy-need I now?
One thought alone he could not-dared not meet.
"Oh how these tidings will Medora greet?"
Then-only then-his clanking hands he raised
And strain'd with rage the chain on which he
The good are better made by ill:-
As odours crush'd are sweeter still!
"Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou
Shaks. Richard II.
Let him be so,
For counsel still is folly's deadly foe.
Shaks. London Prodigal.
I pray thee, cease thy counsel.
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve.
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep
As watchman to my heart.
"Tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow;
But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency,
To be so moral, when he shall endure
The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ache with air, and agony with words.
Shaks. Much ado. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
Shaks. Much ado.
What could I more?
Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thine own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech.
Shaks. All's well. I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold
The danger, and the lurking enemy
That lay in wait; beyond this had been force,
And force upon free will hath here no place.
Milton's Paradise Lost.
Learn to dissemble wrongs, to smile at injuries,
And suffer crimes thou want'st the power to
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judg-
Neither a borrower nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate
Be easy, affable, familiar, friendly:
Search, and know all mankind's mysterious ways;
But trust the secret of thy soul to none:
This is the way,
This only, to be safe in such a world as this is
And cool-soul'd hermits, mortify'd with care,
And bent by age and palsies, whine out maxims,
Which their brisk youth had blushed at.
Hill's Henry V
Aye free, off han', your story tell
When wi' a bosom crony;
But still keep something to yoursel
Ye scarcely tell to onv.