274

FLAG-FLATTERY, &c.

FLAG. (See BANNER.)

FLATTERY-SYCOPHANT - PRAISE

Or who would ever care to do brave deed,
Or strive in virtue others to excel,
If none should yield him his deserved meed,
Due praise, that is the spur of doing well?
For if good were not praised more than ill,

None would choose goodness of his own free will.

That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,

And follows but for form,

SPENSER

And think with wagging of your tongue to win me.

Of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant;
And of all tame-a flatterer.

The firmest purpose of a woman's heart
To well-tim'd, artful flattery may yield.

"T is an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery 's the food of fools,
Yet, now and then, your men of wit
Wil, condescend to take a bit.

SHAKSPEARE

BEN JONSON.

LILLO.

SWIFT.

FLATTERY-SYCOPHANT - PRAISE.

Minds,

By nature great, are conscious of their greatness,
And hold it mean to borrow aught from flattery.

My soul is open to the charms of praise:
There is no joy beyond it, when the mind
Of him who hears it can, with honest pride,
Confess it just, and listen to its music.

275

ROWE.

WHITEHEAD's Roman Father

In praising Chloris, moon, and stars, and skies,
Are quickly made to match her face and eyes;
And gold and rubies, with as little care,

To fit the colour of her lips and hair;

And mixing suns, and flowers, and pearls and stones,

Make them seem all complexions at once.

For praise, that 's due, does give no more
To worth than what it had before;
But, to commend without desert,
Requires a mastery of art,

BUTLER.

That sets a glass on what 's amiss,

And says what should be, not what is.

BUTLER.

The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art,

Reigns, more or less, and glows in every heart;
The proud, to gain it, foils on toils endure,
The modest shun it, but to make it sure.

YOUNG'S Love of Fame.
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
Till, his relish grown callous almost to disease,
Who pepper'd the highest, was surest to please.

GOLDSMITH'S Retaliation.

A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
GOLDSMITH'S Retaliation

776

FLATTERY-SYCOPHANT - PRAISE.

To hear his soothing tales, she feigns delays;
What woman can resist the force of praise?

Methinks you're over-nice :

True; flattery is a shocking vice;
Yet, sure, whene'er the praise is just,

GAY'S Trivia

One may commend without distrust.

Praise of the wise and good!—it is a meed
For which I would long years of toil endure—
Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure.

POPE.

SIR E. BRYDGES.

Oh! it is worse than mockery to list the flatt'rer's tone,
To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek must blush to

own,

To hear the red lip whisper'd of, and the flowing curl, and

eye,

Made constant theme of eulogy extravagant and high-
And the charm of person worshipp'd, in an homage offer'd

not

To the perfect charm of virtue, and the majesty of thought.
J. G. WHITTIER.

FLOWERS - FRUITS.

277

Oh! when the breath of flattery is warm upon thine ear, And manly brows are bending in humble suppliance near, May no dream of tenderness arise, which earth may not fulfil,

And no fountain open in thy heart, which Time hath power to chill! J. G. WHITTIER.

FLOWERS-FRUITS.

Sweet garland wreaths

Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.

MILTON'S Comus.

Where peaches glow with sunny dyes,
Like maidens' cheeks when blushes rise;
Where with huge figs the branches bend,
Where clusters from the vine distend.

GAY's Fables.

Here, scatter'd wild, the lily of the vale
Its balmy essence breathes; here cowslips hang
Their dewy heads, and purple violets lurk,
With all the lowly children of the shade.

Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse,
And soft carnations shower their balmy dews;
Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
The thin undress of superficial light;
And varied tulips show so dazzling gay,
Blushing in bright diversities of day.

She looks as clear

As morning roses, newly wash'd in dew.

THOMSON.

POPE.

SHAKSPEARE

SOMERVILE'S Chase.

The fragrant orange, with bright golden rind.

Which bears at once the cup, and milk, and fruit.

Like sweet thoughts that come

Wing'd from the maiden fancy, and fly off
In music to the skies, and then are lost,
These ever-steaming odours seek the sun,
And fade in the light he scatters.

In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,

WORDSWORTH.

BARRY CORNWALI.

And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers,
On its leaves a mystic language bears.

J. G. PERCIVAL

The evergreen stern Winter's power derides,
Like hope, that in misfortune's storm abides.

Yes, lovely flower, I find in thee

Wild sweetness which no words express,
And charms in thy simplicity.

That dwell not in the pride of dress.

LANGHORNE