And, all the while, Without an envious eye On any thriving under fortune's smile, COTTON. THERE is one species of egotism which is truly disgusting; not that which leads us to communicate our feelings to others, but that which would reduce the feelings of others to an identity with our own. The Atheist, who exclaims, " Pshaw!" when he glances his eye on the praises of the Deity, is an egotist. An old man, when he speaks contemptuously of loveverses is an egotist; and the sleek favourites of fortune are egotists, when they condemn all "melancholy, discontented," verses. COLERIDGE. Nous serions heureux à jamais, THILKE ground that berith the wedes wicke, CHAUCER. Go, Soul, the Body's guest, The truth shall be thy warrant : Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the Court, it glows, And shines like rotten wood; Say to the Church, it shows What's good, and doth no good; If Court and Church reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell Potentates they live Give Potentates the lie. Tell Men of high condition, Then give them all the lie. Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who in their greater cost Like nothing but commending : And if they make reply, Then tell them all they lie. Tell Zeal it wants devotion; Tell Age it daily wasteth ; And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie. Tell Wit how much it wrangles Herself in over-wiseness: And when they do reply, Straight give them both the lie. Tell Physic of her boldness; Tell Skill it is pretension; Tell Charity of coldness; Tell Law it is contention: And as they do reply, So give them still the lie. Tell Fortune of her blindness; Tell Justice of delay : And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell Arts they have no soundness, Tell Schools they want profoundness, If Arts and Schools reply, Give Arts and Schools the lie. Tell Faith it's fled the City; Tell how the Country erreth : So when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing; Because to give the lie, Deserves no less than stabbing: Stab at thee who that will, No stab the Soul can kill ! DAVISON'S RHAPSODY, 1608. N IF a man makes me keep my distance, the comfort is, he keeps his at the same time. SWIFT. THE busts of grandeur, and the pomp of pow'r, Ah no! the mighty names are heard no morePride's thought sublime, and beauty's kindling bloom, Serve but to sport one flying moment o'er, And swell with pompous verse th' escutcheon'd tomb. OGILVIE. OUR actions are our own; their consequence Belongs to Heaven. FRANCIS. YOUTH! thou wear'st to manhood now: Darker lip, and darker brow, Statelier step, more pensive mien, In thy face and gait are seen : Thou must now brook midnight watches, Take thy food and sport by snatches; For the gambol and the jest, |