And the strange inborn sense of coming ill,

That ofttimes whispers to the haunted breast, In a low tone which nought can drown or still,

'Midst feasts and melodies a secret guest; Whence doth that murmur wake, that shadow fall? Why shakes the spirit thus ?—'tis mystery all !

Darkly we move-we press upon the brink
Haply of viewless worlds, and know it not;
Yes! it may be, that nearer than we think,

Are those whom death has parted from our lot!
Fearfully, wondrously, our souls are made-
Let us walk humbly on, but undismay'd!

Humbly-for knowledge strives in vain to feel
Her way amidst these marvels of the mind;
Yet undismay'd-for do they not reveal

Th' immortal being with our dust entwin'd ?—
So let us deem! and e'en the tears they wake
Shall then be blest, for that high nature's sake.

MRS. HEMANS.

If men praise your efforts, suspect their judgment: if they censure them, your own.

COLTON.

DARE to be true: nothing can want a lie;
A fault that wants it most, grows two thereby.

No metaphysician ever felt the deficiency of language so much as the grateful.

COLTON.

FOR wishes often are extravagant;
They are not bounded with things possible:
Desire's the vast extent of human mind;
It mounts above, and leaves poor Hope behind.

DRYDEN.

ANXIETY, when it seizes the heart, is a dangerous disease, productive both of much sin and much misery. It acts as a corrosive of the mind. It eats out our present enjoyments, and substitutes, in their place, many an acute pain.

BLAIR.

THE guilty mind

Debases the great image that it wears,

And levels us with brutes.

HAVARD.

YET 'tis the curse of mighty minds oppress'd,
To think what their state is, and what it should be:
Impatient of their lot, they reason fiercely,

And call the laws of Providence unequal.

G

ROWE.

THE Source of half our anguish, half our tears,
Is the wrong conduct of our hopes and fears;
Like ill-train'd children, still their treatment such,
Restrain❜d too rashly, or indulged too much :
Hence Hope, projecting more than Life can give,
Would live with angels, or refuse to live;
Hence spleen-ey'd Fear, o'er-acting Caution's part
Betrays those succours Reason lends the heart :
Yet these, submitted to fair Truth's controul,
These tyrants are the servants of the soul;
Through vales of peace the dove-like Hope shall stray,
And bear at eve her olive branch away,

In every scene some distant charm descry,
And hold it forward to the brightening eye;
While watchful Fear, if Fortitude maintain
Her trembling steps, shall ward the distant pain.

LANGHORNE.

ALL travel has its advantages. If the passenger visits better countries, he may learn to improve his own; and if fortune carries him to worse, he may learn to enjoy his own.

DR. JOHNSON.

WHO lived ever in swiche delite o day
That him ne meved eyther conscience,
Or ire, or talent, or some kin affray,
Envie, or pride, or passion, or offence?

CHAUCER.

THE WORLD.

WHETHER men do laugh or weep,

Whether they do wake or sleep,
Whether they feel heat or cold,
Whether they be young or old;

There is underneath the sun
Nothing in true earnest done.

All our pride is but a jest,
None are worst and none are best.
Grief and joy, and hope and fear,
Play their pageants every where ;
Vain opinion all doth sway,
And the world is but a play.

SOME men, of a secluded and studious life, have sent forth from their closet or their cloister, rays of intellectual light that have agitated Courts, and revolutionized Kingdoms; like the moon, which, though far removed from the ocean, and shining upon it with a serene and sober light, is the chief cause of all those ebbings and flowings which incessantly disturb that restless world of waters.

COLTON.

THERE is no courage, but in innocence;
No constancy, but in an honest cause.

SOUTHERN.

MEMORY AND HOPE.

MEMORY! hence!

Form'd for bliss and innocence,
Me thou tell'st of wasted leisure,
Faithless friends and faded pleasure,
Fill'st with gloomy care my sense!
Memory! hence!

Hope, be near!

With thy lights the prospect cheer,
Half conceal the scenes at distance,
Shew me joys, and shade resistance,
Nurse of airy pleasures dear,
Hope, be near !

Memory, hail!

Thy firm pleasures never fail :
I, for substance quitting semblance,
Shadowy Hope for sure remembrance,
With thee will be content to dwell,
Memory, hail!

Hope, adieu!

Faithless charmer, quit my view,
Me thou leav'st to mourn and languish ;
Smiling Hope but leads to anguish ;

Syren! then no longer woo!

Hope, adieu!

NEELE.