474

SADNESS-SAFETY - SAILING.

With dove-like wings peace o'er yon village proods;
The dizzing mill-wheel rests; the anvil's din
Has ceas'dall, all around is quietness.

Hail, Sabbath! thee I hail, the poor man's day:
On other days the man of toil is doom'd

To eat his joyless bread, lonely — the ground

GRAIIANE.

Botn seat and board - screen'd from the winter's cold
And summer's heat, by neighbouring hedge or tree;
But on this day, embosom'd in his home,

He shares the frugal meal with those he loves.

SADNESS. (See CARE.)

GRAHAME.

SAFETY.

From a safe port 't is easy to give counsel.

SHAKSPEARE.

But when men think they most in safety stand,
The greatest peril often is at hand.

DRAYTON.

What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore;
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.

Happy were men, if they but understood

There is no safety but in doing good.

HERRICK

FOUNTAIN.

SAILING-SHIP.

You might have seen the frothy billows fry
Under the ship, as thorough them she went,

That seem'd the waves were unto ivory,
Or ivory unto the waves were sent.

SPENSER'S Fairy Queen

SAILOR.

So ships in winter seas now sliding sink
Adown the steepy wave, then toss'd on high
Ride on the billows, and defy the storm.

Behold the threaden sails,

SOMERVILE'S Chase

Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,

Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge.

471.

SHAKSPEARE.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,

While, proudly riding o'er the azure realm,

In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

The sails were fill'd, and fair the light winds blew,
As glad to bear him from his native home;
And fast the white rocks faded from his view,
And soon were lost in circumambient foam.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.

BYRON'S Corsair.

The cloven billow flash'd from off her prow,
In furrows form'd by that majestic plough.

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,

BYRON'S Island.

The gallant bark; along her watery way Homeward she drives before the favouring gales; Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.

SOUTHEY.

SAILOR.

O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,

Survey our empire, and behold our home!

BYRON'S Corsair

476

SATIETY- SURFEIT.

Long have they voyag'd o'er the distant seas;
And what a heart-delight they feel at last
So many toils, so many dangers past-
To view the port desir'd, he only knows
Who on the stormy deep for many a day
Hath toss'd, aweary of his ocean way,

And watch'd all-anxious every wind that blows

SOUTHEY

His generous spirit - his contempt of danger-
His firmness in the gale, the wreck, and strife;
And, though a wild and reckless ocean-ranger,
God grant he make that port, when life is o'er,
Where storms are hush'd, and billows break no more!
REV. WALTER COLTON

Childe Harold bask'd him in the noontide sun,

Disporting there like any other fly;

Nor deem'd, before his little day was done,

One blast might chill him into misery.
But long ere scarce a third of his pass'd by,
Worse than adversity the Childe befel:
He felt the fulness of satiety.

BYRON'S Childe Harold

SATIRE-SAVAGE-SCANDAL.

477

SATIRE.

I'm one whose whip of steel can with a lash
Imprint the characters of shame so deep,
Even in the brazen forehead of proud sin,
That not eternity shall wear it out.

Instructive satire! true to virtue's cause!
Thou shining supplement of public laws!

RANDOLPH.

the man;

If satire charms, strike faults, but spare
"Tis dull to be as witty as you can.
Satire recoils whenever charg'd too high;
Round your own fame the fatal splinters fly.
As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart,
Good-breeding sends the satire to the heart.

Curs'd be the verse, how well soe'er it flow,
That tends to make one worthy man my foe,
Give virtue scandal, innocence a fear,
Or from the soft-eyed virgin steal a tear.

When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing,
Short is her life, and impotent her sting;
But when to truth allied, the wound she gives
Sinks deep, and to remoter ages lives.

YOUNG

YOUNG.

POPE

CHURCHILL

Prepare for rhyme-I'll publish, right or wrong;
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song

BYRON'S English Bards, &c

SAVAGE. (See INDIAN.)

SCANDAL.-(See GOSSIP.)

478

SCENERY-SCEPTICISM - UNBELIEF.

SCENERY.

The naughtiest breast its wish might bound,
Through life to dwell delighted here;
Nor could on earth a spot be found,

To Nature and to me so dear.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

In the wild pomp of mountain majesty.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

Woods of palm,

And orange groves, and fields of balm,

FITZ-GREEN HALLECK.

"Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And clothes the mountain in its azure hue.

Amid the ancient forests of a land,
Wild, gloomy, vast, magnificently grand.

CAMPBELL.

W. H. BURLEIGH

How softly that green bank sloped down from the hill
To the spot where the fountain grew suddenly still!
How cool was the shadow the long branches gave,
As they hung from the willow, and dipp'd in the wave!
And then each pale lily, that slept in the stream,

Rose and fell with a wave, as if stirr'd by a dream.

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

SCEPTICISM - UNBELIEF.

A foe to God was ne'er true friend to man.

YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.

But you are learn'd; in volumes deep you sit; ...
Your learning, like the lunar beam, affords

Light, but not heat; it leaves you undevout.
Frozen at heart, while speculation shines.

YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.