There, shelter'd by thy straw-built hive, There for thee in Autumn blows Ah no!-throughout the winter drear Amongst the flowers, thou busy Bee! CHARLOTTE SMITH. WHERE Ambition can be so happy as to cover its enterprizes, even to the person himself, under the appearance of principle, it is the most incurable and inflexible of all human passions. BE not over exquisite To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; HUME. For grant they be so, while they rest unknown; MILTON. ANXIETY is the poison of human life. rent of many sins, and of more miseries. In a world It is the pawhere every thing is doubtful, where you may succeed in your wish, and be miserable; where you may be disappointed, and be blessed in disappointment; what means this restless stir and commotion of mind? Can your solicitude alter the course, or unravel the intricacy of human events? Can your curiosity pierce through the cloud which the Supreme Being hath made impenetrable to mortal eye? To provide against every important danger by the employment of the most promising means, is the office of wisdom; but at this point wisdom stops. BLAIR. WHEN people are determined upon any action, they seldom fail to find arguments capable of convincing them that their resolution is reasonable. motives govern the conduct of half mankind. Mixed UNCERTAINTY, Fell dæmon of our fears! the human soul, MALLET. GREAT vices are the proper objects of our detestation, smaller faults of our pity; but affectation appears to be the only true source of the ridiculous. FIELDING. TO THE EVENING STAR. How sweet thy modest light to view, Or hanging o'er that mirror-stream, To mark thine image trembling there ;- Though, blazing o'er the arch of night, Thine are the soft enchanting hours, When twilight lingers on the plain, And whispers to the closing flowers, That soon the sun shall rise again. Thine is the breeze that, murmuring bland Fair Star! though I be doom'd to prove That rapture's tears are mix'd with pain, Ah! still I feel 'tis sweet to love, But sweeter to be loved again. LEYDEN. K LOVE and Folly were at play, Venus loudly then from Jove THOU knowest not the heart of woman, or hast only conversed with those who are lost to her best feelings. I tell thee, proud Templar, that not in thy fiercest battles hast thou displayed more of thy vaunted courage, than has been shewn by woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty. I am myself a woman, tenderly nurtured, naturally fearful of danger, and impatient of pain-yet, when we enter those fatal lists, thou to fight and I to suffer, I feel the strong assurance within me, that my courage shall mount higher than thine. Farewell-I waste no more words on thee; the time that remains on earth to the daughter of Jacob must be otherwise spent she must seek the Comforter, who may hide his face from his people, but who ever opens his ear to the cry of those who seek him in sincerity and in truth. WALTER SCOTT. ODE TO ENTERPRIZE. On lofty mountains roaming, There, at the peep of morning, See panting Emulation Her fleeting steps pursue. List, list, celestial Virgin! |