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"T is with our judgments as our watches ; none Are just alike, yet each believes his own.
Pope's Essay on Criticism To observations which ourselves we make, We grow more partial for the observer's sake.
Pope's Moral Essays. Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, No one will change his neighbour with himself; The learn’d is happy nature to explore, The fool is happy that he knows no more ; The rich is happy in the plenty given, The poor contents him with the care of heaven.
Pope's Moral Essays. The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels, More generous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts ; And conscious virtue mitigates the pang.
Young's Night Thoughts. All men think all men mortal but themselves.
Young's Night Thoughts. In other men we faults can spy, And blame the mote that dims their eye; Each little speck and blemish find; To our own stronger errors blind.
Gay's Fables. For none more likes to hear himself converse.
Byron's Don Juan What exile from himself can flee?
Byron's Childe Haruld. Oh wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us
Self is the medium least refin’d of all,
How often, in this cold and bitter world,
Miss L. E. LANDON.
The feeling heart, simplicity of life,
That look of sweetness, form’d to please,
CHURCHILL: ELOQUENCE -ORATOP.
And when she spake
SPENSER's Fairy Queen
When he speaks,
SHAKSPEARE. Power above powers ! O heavenly eloquence !
That, with the strong rein of commanding words,
Dropp'd manna, and could make the worst appear
Milton's Paradise Lost,
RANDOLPH Oh! speak that again! Sweet as the syren's tongue those accents fall, And charm me to my ruin.
SOUTHERN Your words are like the notes of dying swans, Too sweet to last.
As I listen'd to thee,
GOLDSMITH's Deserted Village
And spoke of truth so sweetly well,
Byron's Don Juan,
Byron's Age of Bronze.
ELOQUENCE -WISDOM, &c.
His talk is the sweet extract of all speech,
TRUMBULL's McFingal. Oh! as the bee upon the flower, I hang Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue.
Bulwer's Lady of Lyons. His words seem'd oracles That pierc'd their bosoms; and each man would turn And gaze in wonder on his neighbour's face, That with the like dumb wonder answer'd him.
You could have heard The beating of your pulses while he spoke.
GEORGE CROLY. Eloquence, that charms and burns, Startles, soothes, and wins, by turns.
J. H. CLINCH, There's a charm in deliv'ry, a magical art, That thrills, like a kiss, from the lip to the heart; 'Tis the glance—the expression—the well-chosen wordBy whose magic the depths of the spirit are stirrid The smile—the mute gesture—the soul-stirring pauseThe eye's sweet expression, that melts while it awes-The lip's soft persuasion-its musical tone: Oh! such were the charms of that eloquent one !
MRs. A. B. WELBY, Now with a giant's might
He heaves the ponderous thought, Now pours the storm of eloquence With scathing lightning fraught.