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But when Lust..
5. Lust is, of all the frailties of our nature,
What most we ought to fear; the headstrong beast
6. There are in love the extremes of touch'd desire.
Nature guides choice, and, as men think, they love.
7. Oh, lost to honour's voice! Oh, doom'd to shame!
8. Within the heart which Love illumes,
9. Infected with that leprosy of lust
Which taints the hoariest years of vicious men,
BYRON'S Marino Faliero.
1. And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A perfume-box, which, ever and anon,
2. What will not luxury use? Earth, sea, and air,
3. If every just man, that now pines with want,
4. War destroys man, but luxury, mankind At once corrupts the body and the mind.
5. Then, since the time we have to live
6. Wine and beauty, thus inviting, Each to different joys exciting,
Whither shall my choice incliné ?
I'll make them both together mine!
7. O luxury! thou curs'd by heaven's decree, How ill-exchang'd are things like these for thee? How do thy potions, with insidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village. 8. And such dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.
9. Fell luxury! more perilous to youth.
Than storms or quicksands, poverty or chains!
10. What though on hamely fare we dine,
11. Sofas, 't was half a sin to sit upon,
So costly were they; carpets, every stitch
BYRON'S Don Juan.
12. All that can eye or sense delight, Were gather'd in that gorgeous sight.
13. What though they tell, with phizzes long,
14. But this I know, and this I feel,
15. One little hour of joy to me Is worth a dull eternity.
While the perfum'd lights
1. Oh what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword,
BULWER'S Lady of Lyons.
Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observ'd of all observers ! quite, quite down!
Better I were distract:
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
3. I am not mad; -1 would to heaven I were ! For then, 't is like, I should forget myself; O! if I could, what griefs should I forget!
4. There is a pleasure in being mad, Which none but madmen know.
5. His lips do move with inward mutterings,
MALEDICTIONS - MALICE - MAN.
6. O this poor brain! ten thousand shapes of fury Are whirling there, and reason is no more.
This wretched brain gave way,
MOORE'S Lalla Rookh.
1. This is the state of man:-to-day he puts forth
2. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,
3. Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites are apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain.
4. Vain human kind! fantastic race!
MILTON'S Paradise Lost.