« AnteriorContinuar »
ENJOYMENT - HAPPINESS, &c.
Too late I find how madly vain our toil
The highest hills are miles below the sky,
When they are fair to view;
MRS. L. P. SMITH.
Moore's Loves of the Angels
MOORE's Lalla Rookh
To all that makes life beautiful and fair;
MRS. A. B. WELBY. ENTERPRISE - ENTHUSIASM.
There are some hours that pass so soon,
Mrs. A. B. WELBY
CHARLES WOLFE. Ah Pauline! who can gaze upon thee now
And watch thy cheek all beaming with delight, Nor grieve to think that thou so soon shalt know Despair, and grief, and sorrow's withering blight!
J. T. WATSON. May friendship open unto you
The path of peace and holy love; May life continual joys renew ;
May hope not too deceptive prove ;May sweet conteniment round you throw Such bliss as may be found below!
J. T. WATSON.
ENTERPRISE. — (See Activity.)
ENTHUSIASM - ZEAL.
No searea conscience is so fell
Milton's Paradise Regained,
ENVY - EQUALITY.
None seconded, as out of reason judg'd,
Milton's Paradise Regained
Young's Night Thoughts
Byron's Siege of Corinth
BYRON'S Don Juan.
Moore's Lalla Rookh.
EQUALITY — SUPERIORITY.
Consider, man; weigh well thy frame,
Ask of thy nother earth, why oaks are made
Pope's Essay on Ilan Order is heaven's first law; and, this confest, and must be, greater than the rest.
Pope's Essay on Man. None but thyself can be thy parallel.
cope with thee, would be about as vain As for a brook to cope with ocean’s flood.
Byron's Don Juan. As some fierce comet of tremendous size, To which the stars did rev’rence as it So he through learning and through fancy took His flight sublime, and on the loftiest top Of fame's dread mountain sat.
Pollok’s Course of Time. For mountains issue out of plains, and not Plains out of mountains; and so, likewise, kings Are of the people, not the people of kings.
For he that once hath missed the right way,
SPENSER's Fairy Queen
Even so, by tasting of that fruit forbid,
Where they sought knowledge, they did error find
Davies' Immortality of the Soul
The eternal years of God are hers;
W. C. BRYANT.
Love is not love,
For all true love is grounded on esteem.
O, why is gentle love
A stranger to that mind,
Which can be just and kind ?
Take my esteem, if you on that can live ;
JAMES A. HILLHOUSE