Page images

8. Vital principle, which keeps my heart

Firm, 'mid the pressure of a thousand ills,
Thou my life's solace and supporter art,
Mingling with bliss the bitter cup it fills.
Far in the future hath thy watcher's glance
Discover'd peace, and many a blissful spot;
While present griefs seem shadows that enhance
The opening glories of thy future lot.



1. He is a freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves beside.

2. I cannot hide what I am: I must be


Sad when I have a cause, and smile at no man's
Jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for
No man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy,
And tend on no man's business; laugh when I
Am merry, and claw no man in his humour.

3. This, above all, to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.


4. In many looks the false heart's history


Is writ, in moods, and frowns, and wrinkles strange,


5. Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose is fair, but fairer we it deem,

For that sweet odour which doth in it live.




6. I think good thoughts, while others write good words,
And, like unletter'd clerks, still cry amen
To every hymn that abler spirit affords,
In polish'd form of well refined words.

7. The man of pure and simple heart
Through life disdains a double part;
He never needs the screen of lies,
His inward bosom to disguise.


What he says


GAY's Fables.

You may believe, and pawn your soul upon it.


9. "Twixt truth and error there's this diff'rence known, Error is fruitful, truth is only one.


10. Dishonour waits on perfidy. The villain
Should blush to think a falsehood; 't is the crime
Of cowards.


11. Let falsehood be a stranger to thy lips.

Shame on the policy that first began

To tamper with the heart, to hide its thoughts!
And doubly shame on that inglorious tongue,
That sold its honesty, and told a lie!

12. When fiction rises, pleasing to the eye,

Men will believe, because they love the lie;
But truth herself, if clouded with a frown,
Must have some solemn proof, to pass her down.

13. The sages say, dame Truth delights to dwell,—
Strange mansion !—in the bottom of a well.
Questions are, then, the windlass and the rope,
That pull the grave old gentlewoman up.



DR. WOLCOT's Peter Pindar.



It is not in the power

Of Painting or of Sculpture to express
Aught so divine as the fair form of Truth!
The creatures of their art may catch the eye,
But her sweet nature captivates the soul.

CUMBERLAND's Philemon.

Beyond all contradiction,

The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

16. My smiles must be sincere, or not at all.

17. 'Tis strange, but true; for truth is always strange,
Stranger than fiction. If it could be told,

How much would novels gain by the exchange!
How differently the world would men behold!

BYRON'S Don Juan.

18. I know the action was extremely wrong; I own it, I deplore it, I condemn it;

But I detest all fiction, even in song,

And so must tell the truth, howe'er you blame it.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

19. I mean to show things as they really are,

Not as they ought to be; for I avow

That till we see what's what in fact, we're far
From much improvement.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

20. First, I would have thee cherish truth, As leading-star in virtue's train;

Folly may pass, nor tarnish youth,

But falsehood leaves a poison-stain.


21. Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again,-
The eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,
And dies among his worshippers.





1. Death makes no conquest of this conqueror, For now he lives in fame though not in life.

2. Talk not to me of fond renown, the rude,
Inconstant blast of the base multitude:
Their breaths nor souls can satisfaction make,
For half the joys I part with for their sake.

3. I courted fame but as a spur to brave

And honest deeds; and who despises fame,
Will soon renounce the virtues that deserve it.


4. Knows he that mankind praise against their will,
And mix as much detraction as they can?
Knows he that faithless fame her whisper has,
As well as trumpet? That his vanity

Is so much tickled from not hearing all?



YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.

5. They, spider-like, spin out their precious all,
Their more than vitals spin in curious webs
Of subtle thought and exquisite design-
Fine networks of the brain-to catch a fly!
The momentary buzz of vain renown!

YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.

6. With fame, in just proportion, envy grows; The man that makes a character, makes foes.

7. Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise, To scorn delights, and live laborious days.

8. The whole amount of that enormous fame,
A tale that blends their glory with their shame.



POPE'S Essay on Man.

9. What's fame? a fancied life in others' breath, A thing beyond us, even before our death.

POPE'S Essay on Man.

10. Whose honours with increase of ages grow, As streams roll down, enlarging as they go.

POPE'S Essay on Criticism.

11. A youth to fame, ere yet to manhood, known.

12. Absurd! to think to overreach the grave,

And from the wreck of names to rescue ours:
The best concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away; only themselves die faster.


BLAIR'S Grave.

13. He left a name at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.


14. And glory long has made the sages smile ;
'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind-
Depending more upon the historian's style

Than on the name a person leaves behind.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

15. What is the end of fame? "Tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper:

Some liken it to climbing up a hill,

Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour.
For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill,
And bards burn what they call "the midnight taper."
BYRON'S Don Juan

16. And blaze with guilty glare thro' future time,
Eternal beacons of consummate crime.

BYRON'S English Bards, &c.

17. Far dearer the grave or the prison,
Illumed by a patriot's name,

Than the trophies of all who have risen
On liberty's ruins to fame.


« EelmineJätka »