Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'ersways their power—

SONN. LXV.

OUT

UT of monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions, private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of books, and the like, we do save and recover somewhat from the deluge of Time.

BACON.

O YE who patiently explore

The wreck of Herculanean lore,
What rapture! could ye seize

Some Theban fragment, or unroll
One precious, tender-hearted scroll

Of

pure Simonides.

WORDSWORTH.

Well, whiles I am a beggar I will rail
And say there is no sin but to be rich.

KING JOHN ii. I.

VAST power and possessions make a man shame

fully afraid of dying; and I am convinced that many of the most intrepid adventurers who, being poor, enjoy the full use of their natural energies, would, if at the very instant of going into action news were brought to them that they had unexpectedly succeeded to an estate in England of £50,000 a year, feel their dislike to bullets furiously sharpened, and their efforts at selfpossession proportionally difficult.

DE QUINCEY.

EXTOL not riches, then, the toil of fools,

The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more apt To slacken virtue, and abate her edge,

Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.

MILTON.

Not of a woman's tenderness to be,

Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.

CORIOLANUS v. 3.

TRULY it is to be noted, that children's plays

are not sports, and should be noted as their

most serious actions.

FLORIO'S Montaigne.

HERE on this lawn thy boys and girls shall run
And ply their gambols when their tasks are done;
There from that window shall their mother view
The happy tribe, and smile at all they do ;
While thou, more gravely, hiding thy delight,
Shall cry, 'O childish!' and enjoy the sight.

CRABBE.

For all the world like cutler's poetry

Upon a knife, Love me, and leave me not.'

MERCHANT OF VENICE V. I.

'OH,' cried Anne eagerly, 'I hope I do justice to

all that is felt by you, and by those that

resemble you. I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were known only by woman.

I should deserve utter contempt if

All the

privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.

JANE AUSTEN.

'THE morn is merry June, I trow,

The rose is budding fain;

But she shall bloom in winter snow

Ere we two meet again.'

He turn'd his charger as he spake,
Upon the river-shore,

He gave the bridle-reins a shake,

Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial hand,

Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived.

SONN. CIV.

WHAT a dead thing is a clock, with its ponderous

embowelments of lead and brass, its pert or solemn dulness of communication, compared with the simple altar-like structure and silent heartlanguage of the old dial! It stood as the gardengod of Christian gardens. Why is it almost everywhere vanished? If its business-use be superseded by more elaborate inventions, its moral uses, its beauty, might have pleaded for its continuance. It spoke of moderate labours, of pleasures not protracted after sunset, of temperance and good hours. It was the primitive clock, the horologe of the first world. Adam could scarce have missed it in Paradise. CHARLES LAMB.

Except our loves at this noon stay

We shall new shadows make the other way.
As the first were made to blind

Others, these which come behind

Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes,

If our loves faint, and westwardly decline,

To me thou falsely thine,

And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.
The morning shadows wear away,
But these grow longer all the day;

But, oh! love's day is short, if love decay.

DONNE.