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But when Lust..
Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
The soul grows clotted by contagion,
Imbodies and imbrutes, till she quite lose
The divine property of her first being.

5. Lust is, of all the frailties of our nature,

What most we ought to fear; the headstrong beast
Rushes along, impatient of the course;
Nor hears the rider's call, nor feels the rein.


6. There are in love the extremes of touch'd desire.
The noblest brightness, or the coarsest fire;
In vulgar bosoms vulgar wishes move,

Nature guides choice, and, as men think, they love.
In the loose passion men profane the name,
Mistake the purpose, and pollute the flame;
In nobler bosoms, friendship's form it takes,
And sex alone the lovely difference makes.



7. Oh, lost to honour's voice! Oh, doom'd to shame!
Thou fiend accurst! thou murderer of fame!
* From innocence to tear
That name, than liberty, than life more dear.
Where shall thy baseness meet its just return?
Or what repay thy guilt, but endless scorn?

8. Within the heart which Love illumes,
And blesses with his sacred rays,
If meaner passion e'er presumes,
It fades before the hallow'd blaze.



9. Infected with that leprosy of lust

Which taints the hoariest years of vicious men,
Making them ransack, to the very last,
The dregs of pleasure for their vanish'd joys.



BYRON'S Marino Faliero.


1. And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

A perfume-box, which, ever and anon,
his nose, and took 't away again.



2. What will not luxury use? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare;
Blood stuff'd in skins is British Christians' food,
And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.
GAY'S Trivia.

3. If every just man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly pamper'd Luxury
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,
Nature's full blessings would be well dispens'd,
And then the Giver would be better thank'd.

4. War destroys man, but luxury, mankind At once corrupts the body and the mind.

5. Then, since the time we have to live
In this world is so short, we'll strive
To make our best advantage of it,
And pay our losses with our profit.

6. Wine and beauty, thus inviting, Each to different joys exciting,



CROWN'S Caligula.

Whither shall my choice incliné ?
I'll waste no longer thought in choosing,
But neither this nor that refusing,

I'll make them both together mine!

BUTLER'S Hudibras.


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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,
Wear hodden-grey, and a' that?
Give fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that.

11. Sofas, 't was half a sin to sit upon,

So costly were they; carpets, every stitch
Of workmanship so rare, they made you wish
You could glide o'er them like a golden fish.

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,
My years are sooner past!
I would reply, with reason strong,
They're sweeter while they last.

BYRON'S Giaour.

14. But this I know, and this I feel,
As onward to the tomb I steal,
That still, as death approaches nearer,
The joys of life are sweeter dearer;
And, had I but one hour to live,
That little hour to bliss I'd give!


MOORE'S Anacreon.

15. One little hour of joy to me Is worth a dull eternity.


While the perfum'd lights
Stole thro' the mists of alabaster lamps,
And every air was heavy with the sighs
Of orange groves, and music from sweet lutes,
And murmurs of low fountains that gush'd forth
I' the midst of roses.

MOORE'S Anacreon.


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,
And woes, by strong imagination, lose
The knowledge of themselves.

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,
And his fix'd eye is riveted fearfully
On something that no other sight can see.



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MATURIN'S Bertram.



6. O this poor brain! ten thousand shapes of fury Are whirling there, and reason is no more.


This wretched brain gave way,
And I became a wreck, at random driven,
Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven.

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MOORE'S Lalla Rookh.


1. This is the state of man:-to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him,
The third day comes a frost- —a killing frost.


2. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,
Till thou return unto the ground; for thou
Out of the ground wast taken; know thy birth,
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return.

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!
Thy various follies who can trace?
Self-love, ambition, envy, pride,
Their empire in our hearts divide.


MILTON'S Paradise Lost.



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