Thine was the sway ere heaven was form'd or earth; POPE. 4. The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low, Till wrangling science taught it noise and show, And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe. POPE. 5. There is a silence which hath been no sound; There is a silence which no sound may beIn the cold grave. THOMAS HOOD. 6. She feels her inmost soul within her stir MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY. 7. 'T was night: All nature, far and wide, SIMPLICITY. 1. Fair nature's sweet simplicity, With elegance refin'd. J. T. WATSON. LORD LYTTLETON. 2. Beautiful one! thy look and tone Of witchery are nature's own Like light from heaven, thy magic glance- 1. What peremptory, eagle-sighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty? 2. To splendour only do we live? Must pomp alone our thoughts employ? Is dearly bought with love and joy. SHAKSPEARE. CARTWRIGHT. 3. Can wealth give happiness? look round and see, I envy none their pageantry and show, YOUNG. STATESMAN. 1. A statesman, that can side with every faction, And yet most subtly can entwist himself, 2. When he hath wrought the business up to danger. Forbear, you things That stand upon the pinnacles of state, To boast your slippery height; when you do fall, SHIRLEY. BEN JONSON. 3. Thus the court wheel goes round, like fortune's ball; One statesman rising on another's fall. 1. Had I miscarried, I had been a villain; HIGGONS. 2. 'Tis not in mortals to command success; But we'll do more, Sempronius — we 'll deserve it. 3. It is success that colours all in life; 4. Success makes fools admir'd, makes villains honest. Applause Waits on success; the fickle multitude, Like the light straw that floats along the stream, THOMSON. FRANKLIN. 5. But who shall tax successful villany, Or call the rising traitor to account? 1. SUICIDE. The dread of something after death, That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn Than fly to others, that we know not of. HAVARD. SHAKSPEARE. 2. Oh! that this too, too solid flesh would melt, 3. Thaw, and dissolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not set His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! To run away SHAKSPEARE. From this world's ills, that, at the very worst, BLAIR'S Grave. |