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12. In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill, For, even tho' vanquish'd, he could argue still. GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.

13. With words of learned length, and thund'ring sound. GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.

14. Too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,

And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining.
GOLDSMITH'S Retaliation.

15. The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head,
With his own tongue still edifies his ears,
And always list'ning to himself appears.

17. A dearth of words a woman need not fear;
But 't is a task indeed to learn-to hear.
In that the skill of conversation lies;

That shows or makes you both polite and wise.

16. Be silent always, when you doubt your sense, And speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence. POPE'S Essay on Criticism.

18. Talking, she knew not why, and car'd not what.

19. If, in talking from morning till night, A sign of our wisdom there be, The swallows are wiser by right,


For they prattle much faster than we.


BYRON'S Beppo.

MOORE'S Nicostratus.

20. And there's one rare, strange virtue in their speeches, The secret of their mastery-they are short.


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1. The vain coquette each suit disdains,
And glories in her lovers' pains;
With age she fades each lover flies,
Contemn'd, forlorn, she pines and dies.

2. Who hath not heard coquettes complain
Of days, months, years, mis-spent in vain ?
For time misus'd they pine and waste,
And love's sweet pleasures never taste.

5. Would you teach her to love? For a time seem to rove;

3. Nymph of the mincing mouth, and languid eye,
And lisping tongue so soft, and head awry,
And flutt'ring heart, of leaves of aspen made.

DR. WOLCOT's Peter Pindar.
4. Such is your old coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes ;" and keeps you on and offing
On a lee shore, till it begins to blow;

Then sees your
heart wreck'd with an inward scoffing:
This works a world of sentimental woe,

And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin.
BYRON'S Don Juan.

At first she may frown in a pet;

But leave her awhile,

GAY'S Fables.

She shortly will smile,

And then you may win your coquette.

GAY'S Fables.

6. Can I again that look recall,

That once could make me die for thee?-
No, no!- the eye that burns on all,
Shall never more be priz'd by me!



7. Still panting o'er a crowd to reign,
More joy it gives to woman's breast,
To make ten frigid coxcombs vain,
Than one true, manly lover blest.

8. Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.

9. There's danger in the dazzling eye,
That woos thee with its witching smile;
Another, when thou art not by,
Those beaming looks would fain beguile.

10. But why, O, why on all thus squander
The treasures one alone can prize?
Why let the looks at random wander,
Which beam from those deluding eyes?


1. A great man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.

2. But where to find the happiest spot below,
Who can direct, when all pretend to know?
The shuddering tenant of the Frigid Zone
Proudly proclaims that happiest spot his own;
The naked negro, panting on the line,
Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ;—
Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam,
His first, best country ever is his own.

3. Whither where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar land in snow.






GOLDSMITH'S Traveller.

GOLDSMITH'S Traveller.



4. Gay sprightly land of mirth and social joy! GOLDSMITH'S Traveller.

5. The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,
Nor breathes the fragrance of a purer
In every clime the magnet of his soul,
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole.


6. Then said the mother to her son,
And pointed to his shield ;-
"Come with it, when the battle's done,
Or on it, from the field."


7. Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said—
This is my own-my native land!
SCOTT's Last Minstrel.
8. Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea,
I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow,
But oh! could I love thee more deeply than now?


9. Carolina, Carolina! Heaven's blessings attend her!
While we live we will cherish, and love, and defend her.
Tho' the scorner may sneer at, and witlings defame her,
Our hearts swell with gladness whenever we name her!

10. Let Spain boast the treasures that grow in her mines;
Let Gallia rejoice in her olives and vines;
In bright sparkling jewels let India prevail,
With her odours Arabia perfume every gale :-
'Tis Columbia alone that can boast of the soil
Where the fair fruits of virtue and liberty smile.

11. Our bosoms with rapture beat high at thy name,

Thy health is our transport-our triumph thy fame;
Like our sires, with our swords we 'll support thy renown;
What they bought with their blood we 'll defend with our own.

12. On, on to the just and glorious strife,

With your swords your freedom shielding;
Nay, resign, if it must be so, even life,
But die at least, unyielding!

13. Sweet clime of my kindred, blest land of my birth!
The fairest, the dearest, the brightest on earth!
Where'er I may roam-howe'er blest I may be,
My spirit instinctively turns unto thee!


14. Oh heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!
Is there no arm on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep those lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name, we wave the sword on high,
And swear with her to live-with her to die!
CAMPBELL'S Pleasures of Hope.

15. Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And freedom shriek'd, as Kosciusko fell!

CAMPBELL'S Pleasures of Hope.

They never fail who die

In a great cause: the block may soak their gore,
Their heads may sodden in the sun; their limbs
Be strung to city gates or castle walls;—

But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years
Elapse, and others share as dark a doom,
They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts
Which overspread all others, and conduct

The world at last to freedom.

BYRON'S Marino Faliero.

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