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There's nothing like maneuvering in season,

Ye parents, who have daughters to dispose of,
Especially if you have any reason

To think in maidenhood their lives will doze off,
And there is one in fifty thousand
That Cash's eldest son will make advances.

DAWES' Geraldine.
When happy lovers meet
In some lone spot, where not a sound is heard
Save their own sighs, or the unequal beat

Of their young hearts to tender wishes stirr'd, As hand seeks hand, and meeting glances tell The unutter'd tale of love too sweetly well.

Mrs. A. B. WELBY,

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His hand did quake,
And tremble like a leaf of aspen green,
And troubled blood thro' his pale face was seen
To come and go, with tidings from the heart,
As it a running messenger had been.

SPENSER's Fairy Queen. Thereat he smitten was, with great affright,

And trembling terror did his heart appal, Nor wist he what to think of that same sight, Nor what to say, nor what to do at all.

SPENSER's Fairy Queen. Cowards die many times before their death ; T'he valiant never taste of death but once.

SHAKSPEARE. And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, But, coward-like, with trembling terror die.




And, though he posted e'er so fast,
His fear was greater than his haste ;
For fear, though fleeter than the wind,
Believes 't is always left behind.

BUTLER'S Hudibrai.
Those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain ;
Hence timely running 's no mean part
Of conduct in the martial art.

BUTLER's Hudihras.
Aghast he stands,
Stiffen'd with fear, unable to resist,
And impotent to fly.

SOMERVILE's Hobbinol.
Think not, coward, wit can hide the shame
Of hearts, which, while they dare not strike for fear,
Would make it virtue in them to forbear.

Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full,
Weak and unmanly, weakens ev'ry pow'r.

THOMSON's Seasons,
Grac'd with a sword, but worthier of a fan.

My blood ran back,
My shaking knees against each other knock'd-
On the cold pavement down I fell entranc’d,

The wretch that fears to drown, will break thro' flames ;
Or, in his dread of flames, will plunge in waves.
When eagles are in view, the screaming doves
Will cower beneath the feet of man for safety.

Imagination frames events unknown,
In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin ;
And what it fears creates !




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As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.

Must I consume my life—this little life,
In guarding against all may make it less ?
It is not worth so much !—it were. to die

hour, to live in dread of death.

Byron's Sardanapalus.
It has a strange, quick jar upon the ear,

This cocking of a pistol, when you know
A moment more will bring the sight to bear
Upon your person, twelve yards off or so.

Byron's Don Juan.
And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour before,
Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness.

BYRON's Childe Harold.
Go-let thy less than woman's hand
Assume the distaff—not the brand.

Byron's Bride of Abydos.

Hope, fear, and love,
Joy, doubt, and hate, may other spirits move,
But touch not his, who, ev'ry waking hour,
Has one fix'd dread, and always feels its pow'r.



Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt.

Oh, how this tyrant, doubt, torments my breast !
My thoughts, like birds, who, frighten’d from their nest,
Around the place where all was hush'd before,
Flutter, and hardly nestle any more.

OTWAY. 102


Lest men suspect your

tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.

Gay's Fables
For when we risk no contradiction,
It tempts the tongue to deal in fiction ;
Those things that startle me or you,
grant, are strange, yet may be true.

Gay's Fables
Or, indolent, to each extreme they fall,
To trust in everything, or doubt of all.

Pope's Essay on Man.
A daring infidel, (and such there are,
From pride, example, lucre, rage, revenge,
Or pure heroical defect of thought,)
Of all earth's madmen, most deserves a chain.

Young's Night Thoughts.
Your noblest natures are most credulous.

Security's blind nurse, the dream of fools,
The drunkard's ape, that, feeling for his way,
Even when he thinks in his deluded sense
To snatch at safety, falls without defence.

And shall we own such judgment ? No; as soon
Seek roses in December, ice in June,
Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff,
Believe a woman, or an epitaph.

Byron's English Bards, &c.


Who shall dispute what the Reviewers say !
Their word 's sufficient; and to ask a reason,
In such a state as theirs, is downright treason.




Critics to plays for the same end resort
That surgeons wait on trials in a court :
For innocence condemn'd they've no respect,
Provided they've a body to dissect.

On me, when dunces are satiric,
I take it for a panegyric ;
Hated by fools, and fools to hate,
Be that my motto, and my fate.

DEAN SWIFT. Hot, noisy, envious, proud, the scribbling fry Burn, hiss and bounce, waste paper, ink, and die.

YOUNG. Let such teach others, who themselves excel, And censure freely, who have written well.

Pope's Essay on Criticism. Some have at first for wits, then poets pass'd ; Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at last. Some neither can for wits nor critics pass, As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.

Pope's Essay on Criticism. A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ ; Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find, Where nature moves, and rapture charms the mind.

Pope's Essay on Criticism. Neglect the rule each verbal critic lays, For not to know some trifles is a praise ; And men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, T'avoid grea: errors, must the less commit.

Pope's Essay on Criticism. Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And curious thcughts struck out at ev'ry linePleas’d with a work where nothing's just or fit, One glaring chaos, and wild heap of wit.

Pope's Essay on Criticism.

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