Chapter 190 of 399 · 730 words · ~4 min read

book iii

. line 264.

[300-1] He best can paint them who shall feel them most.--POPE: _Eloisa to Abelard, last line._

[300-2] A translation of Martial, xii. 47, who imitated Ovid, Amores iii. 11, 39.

[300-3] Much may be said on both sides.--FIELDING: _The Covent Garden Tragedy, act i. sc. 8._

NICHOLAS ROWE. 1673-1718.

As if Misfortune made the throne her seat, And none could be unhappy but the great.[301-1]

_The Fair Penitent. Prologue._

At length the morn and cold indifference came.[301-2]

_The Fair Penitent. Act i. Sc. 1._

Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love?

_The Fair Penitent. Act iii. Sc. 1._

Is this that haughty gallant, gay Lothario?

_The Fair Penitent. Act v. Sc. i._

FOOTNOTES:

[301-1] None think the great unhappy, but the great.--YOUNG: _The Love of Fame, satire 1, line 238._

[301-2] But with the morning cool reflection came.--SCOTT: _Chronicles of the Canongate, chap. iv._

Scott also quotes it in his notes to "The Monastery," chap. iii. note 11; and with "calm" substituted for "cool" in "The Antiquary," chap. v.; and with "repentance" for "reflection" in "Rob Roy," chap. xii.

ISAAC WATTS. 1674-1748.

Whene'er I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see! What shall I render to my God For all his gifts to me?

_Divine Songs. Song iv._

A flower, when offered in the bud, Is no vain sacrifice.

_Divine Songs. Song xii._

And he that does one fault at first And lies to hide it, makes it two.[301-3]

_Divine Songs. Song xv._

Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so; Let bears and lions growl and fight, For 't is their nature too.

_Divine Songs. Song xvi._

But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.

_Divine Songs. Song xvi._

Birds in their little nests agree; And 't is a shameful sight When children of one family Fall out, and chide, and fight.

_Divine Songs. Song xvii._

How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!

_Divine Songs. Song xx._

For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.

_Divine Songs. Song xx._

In books, or work, or healthful play.

_Divine Songs. Song xx._

I have been there, and still would go; 'T is like a little heaven below.

_Divine Songs. Song xxviii._

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber! Holy angels guard thy bed! Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head.

_A Cradle Hymn._

'T is the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber again."

_The Sluggard._

Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear My voice ascending high.

_Psalm v._

From all who dwell below the skies Let the Creator's praise arise; Let the Redeemer's name be sung Through every land, by every tongue.

_Psalm cxvii._

Fly, like a youthful hart or roe, Over the hills where spices grow.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book i . Hymn 79._

And while the lamp holds out to burn, The vilest sinner may return.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book i . Hymn 88._

Strange that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long!

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 19._

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 63._

The tall, the wise, the reverend head Must lie as low as ours.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 63._

When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I 'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 65._

There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 66._

So, when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by turns; And 't is a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain.

_Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii . Hymn 146._

Were I so tall to reach the pole, Or grasp the ocean with my span, I must be measured by my soul: The mind 's the standard of the man.[303-1]

_Horæ Lyricæ.