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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Misellaneous John Bartlett

    It may well wait a century for a reader, as God has waited six thousand years for an observer.
          John Kepler (1571–1630). Martyrs of Science (Brewster). P. 197.
    Needle in a bottle of hay.
          Field (—— –1641): A Woman’s a Weathercock. (Reprint, 1612, p. 20.)
    He is a fool who thinks by force or skill
To turn the current of a woman’s will.
          Samuel Tuke (—— –1673): Adventures of Five Hours. Act v. Sc. 3.
    Laugh and be fat.
          John Taylor (1580?–1684). Title of a Tract, 1615.
    Diamond cut diamond.
          John Ford (1586–1639): The Lover’s Melancholy. Act i. Sc. 1.
    A liberty to that only which is good, just, and honest.
          John Winthrop (1588–1649): Life and Letters. Vol. ii. p. 341.
    I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.
          Richard Baxter (1615–1691): Love breathing Thank and Praise.
    Though this may be play to you,
’T is death to us.
          Roger L’Estrange (1616–1704): Fables from Several Authors. Fable 398.
    And there ’s a lust in man no charm can tame
Of loudly publishing our neighbour’s shame;
On eagles’ wings immortal scandals fly,
While virtuous actions are but born and die.
          Stephen Harvey (circa 1627): Juvenal, Satire ix.
    May I govern my passion with absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away.
          Walter Pope (1630–1714): The Old Man’s Wish.
    When change itself can give no more,
’T is easy to be true.
          Charles Sedley (1639–1701): Reasons for Constancy.
    The real Simon Pure.
          Susannah Centlivre (1667–1723): A bold Stroke for a Wife.
    When all the blandishments of life are gone,
The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on.
          George Sewell (—— –1726): The Suicide.
    Studious of ease, and fond of humble things.
          Ambrose Phillips (1671–1749): From Holland to a Friend in England.
    My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter’s fury, and encroaching frosts,
By time subdued (what will not time subdue!),
A horrid chasm disclosed.
          John Philips (1676–1708): The Splendid Shilling. Line 121.
    For twelve honest men have decided the cause,
Who are judges alike of the facts and the laws.
          William Pulteney (1682–1764): The Honest Jury.
    Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean,
Where heartsome wi’ thee I hae mony days been;
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,
We ’ll maybe return to Lochaber no more.
          Allan Ramsay (1686–1758): Lochaber no More.
    Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
Drink with me, and drink as I.
          William Oldys (1696–1761): On a Fly drinking out of a Cup of Ale.
    Thus Raleigh, thus immortal Sidney shone
(Illustrious names!) in great Eliza’s days.
          Thomas Edwards (1699–1757): Canons of Criticism.
    One kind kiss before we part,
  Drop a tear and bid adieu;
Though we sever, my fond heart
  Till we meet shall pant for you.
          Robert Dodsley (1703–1764): The Parting Kiss.
    A charge to keep I have,
  A God to glorify;
A never dying soul to save,
  And fit it for the sky.
          Charles Wesley: Christian Fidelity.
    Love divine, all love excelling,
Joy of heaven to earth come down.
          Divine Love.
    Of right and wrong he taught
Truths as refined as ever Athens heard;
And (strange to tell!) he practised what he preached.
          John Armstrong (1709–1779): The Art of Preserving Health. Book iv. Line 301.
    Gentle shepherd, tell me where.
          Samuel Howard (1710–1782).
    Pray, Goody, please to moderate the rancour of your tongue!
Why flash those sparks of fury from your eyes?
Remember, when the judgment ’s weak the prejudice is strong.
          Kane O’Hara (—— –1782): Midas. Act i. Sc. 4.
    Where passion leads or prudence points the way.
          Robert Lowth (1710–1787): Choice of Hercules, i.
    And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men let him lie.
          —— Dyer (published in the early part of the reign of George I.).
    Each cursed his fate that thus their project crossed;
How hard their lot who neither won nor lost!
          Richard Graves (1715–1804): The Festoon (1767).
    Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer!
  List, ye landsmen all, to me;
Messmates, hear a brother sailor
  Sing the dangers of the sea.
          George A. Stevens (1720–1784): The Storm.
    That man may last, but never lives,
Who much receives, but nothing gives;
Whom none can love, whom none can thank,—
Creation’s blot, creation’s blank.
          Thomas Gibbons (1720–1785): When Jesus dwelt.
    In this awfully stupendous manner, at which Reason stands aghast, and Faith herself is half confounded, was the grace of God to man at length manifested.
          Richard Hurd (1720–1808): Sermons. Vol. ii. p. 287.
    There is such a choice of difficulties that I am myself at a loss how to determine.
          James Wolfe (1726–1759): Despatch to Pitt, Sept. 2, 1759.
    Kathleen mavourneen! the grey dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.
          Anne Crawford (1734–1801): Kathleen Mavourneen.
    Who can refute a sneer?
          William Paley (1743–1805): Moral Philosophy. Vol. ii. Book v. Chap. 9.
    Why should the Devil have all the good tunes?
          Rowland Hill (1744–1833).
    Ho! why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Grey?
And why does thy nose look so blue?
          Thomas Holcroft (1745–1809): Gaffer Grey.
    Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute.
          Charles Cotesworth Pinckney (1746–1825),—when Ambassador to the French Republic, 1796.
    And ye sall walk in silk attire,
  And siller hae to spare,
Gin ye ’ll consent to be his bride,
  Nor think o’ Donald mair.
          Susanna Blamire (1747–1794): The Siller Croun.
    A glass is good, and a lass is good,
  And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
  And we ’re all good fellows together.
          John O’Keefe (1747–1833): Sprigs of Laurel. Act ii. Sc. 1.
    The moon had climb’d the highest hill
  Which rises o’er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit shed
  Her silver light on tower and tree.
          John Lowe (1750– ——): Mary’s Dream.
    Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world and child of the skies!
Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendors unfold.
          Timothy Dwight (1752–1817): Columbia.
    Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing,
  Hope, and comfort from above;
Let us each, thy peace possessing,
  Triumph in redeeming love.
          Robert Hawker (1753–1827): Benediction.
    Roy’s wife of Aldivalloch,
Wat ye how she cheated me,
As I came o’er the braes of Balloch?
          Anne Grant (1755–1838): Roy’s Wife.
    Bounding billows, cease your motion,
Bear me not so swiftly o’er.
          Mary Robinson (1758–1799): Bounding Billows.
    While Thee I seek, protecting Power,
  Be my vain wishes stilled;
And may this consecrated hour
  With better hopes be filled.
          Helen Maria Williams (1762–1827): Trust in Providence.
    The glory dies not, and the grief is past.
          Samuel Egerton Brydges (1762–1837): Sonnet on the Death of Sir Walter Scott.
    Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat,
  Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher’s chorus-note
  Soft moves the dipping oar.
          Joanna Baillie (1762–1857): Oh swiftly glides the Bonnie Boat.
    ’T was whisper’d in heaven, ’t was mutter’d in hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of earth ’t was permitted to rest,
And the depths of the ocean its presence confess’d.
          Catherine M. Fanshawe (1764–1834): Enigma. The letter H.
    Oh, it ’s a snug little island!
A right little, tight little island.
          Thomas Dibdin (1771–1841): The snug little Island.
    And ne’er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
          Robert Treat Paine (1772–1811): Adams and Liberty.
    They [the blacks] had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.
          Roger B. Taney (1777–1864): The Dred Scott Case (Howard, Rep. 19, P. 407).
    To make a mountain of a mole-hill.
          Henry Ellis (1777–1869): Original Letters. Second Series, p. 312.
    March to the battle-field,
  The foe is now before us;
Each heart is Freedom’s shield,
  And heaven is shining o’er us.
          B. E. O’Meara (1778–1836): March to the Battle-Field.
    Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong.
          Stephen Decatur (1779–1820): Toast given at Norfolk, April, 1816.
    Here shall the Press the People’s right maintain,
Unaw’d by influence and unbrib’d by gain;
Here patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw,
Pledg’d to Religion, Liberty, and Law.
          Joseph Story (1779–1845): Motto of the “Salem Register.” (Life of Story, Vol. i. p. 127.)
    Let there be no inscription upon my tomb; let no man write my epitaph: no man can write my epitaph.
          Robert Emmet (1780–1803): Speech on his Trial and Conviction for High Treason, September, 1803.
    Imitation is the sincerest flattery.
          C. C. Colton (1780–1832): The Lacon.
    Behold how brightly breaks the morning!
Though bleak our lot, our hearts are warm.
          James Kenney (1780–1849): Behold how brightly breaks.
    Unthinking, idle, wild, and young,
I laugh’d and danc’d and talk’d and sung.
          Princess Amelia (1783–1810).
    A sound so fine, there ’s nothing lives
’Twixt it and silence.
          James Sheridan Knowles (1784–1862) Virginius, Act v. Sc. 2.
    We have met the enemy, and they are ours.
          Oliver H. Perry (1785–1820): Letter to General Harrison (dated “United States Brig Niagara. Off the Western Sisters. Sept. 10, 1813, 4 P. M.”).
    Not she with trait’rous kiss her Saviour stung,
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave,
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.
          Eaton S. Barrett (1785–1820): Woman, Part i. (ed. 1822).
    They see nothing wrong in the rule that to the victors belong the spoils of the enemy.
          William L. Marcy (1786–1857): Speech in the United States Senate, January, 1832.
    Say to the seceded States, “Wayward sisters, depart in peace.”
          Winfield Scott (1786–1861): Letter to W. H. Seward, March 3, 1861.
    Rock’d in the cradle of the deep,
I lay me down in peace to sleep.
          Emma Willard (1787–1870): The Cradle of the Deep.
    Right as a trivet.
          R. H. Barham (1788–1845): The Ingoldsby Legends. Auto-da-fe.
    My life is like the summer rose
  That opens to the morning sky,
But ere the shades of evening close
  Is scattered on the ground—to die.
          Richard Henry Wilde (1789–1847): My Life is like the Summer Rose.
    Grand, gloomy, and peculiar, he sat upon the throne a sceptred hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own originality.
          Charles Phillips (1789–1859): The Character of Napoleon.
    Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay your golden cushion down;
Rise up! come to the window, and gaze with all the town.
          John G. Lockhart (1794–1854): The Bridal of Andalla.
    By the margin of fair Zurich’s waters
  Dwelt a youth, whose fond heart, night and day,
For the fairest of fair Zurich’s daughters
  In a dream of love melted away.
          Charles Dance (1794–1863): Fair Zurich’s Waters.
    I saw two clouds at morning
  Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on
  And mingled into one.
          John G. C. Brainard (1795–1828): I saw Two Clouds at Morning.
    On thy fair bosom, silver lake,
  The wild swan spreads his snowy sail,
And round his breast the ripples break
  As down he bears before the gale.
          James G. Percival (1795–1856): To Seneca Lake.
    What fairy-like music steals over the sea,
Entrancing our senses with charmed melody?
          Mrs. C. B. Wilson (—— –1846): What Fairy-like Music.
    Her very frowns are fairer far
Than smiles of other maidens are.
          Hartley Coleridge (1796–1849): She is not Fair.
    I would not live alway: I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way.
          William A. Muhlenberg (1796–1877): I would not live alway.
    Oh, leave the gay and festive scenes,
  The halls of dazzling light.
          H. S. Vandyk (1798–1828); The Light Guitar.
    If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot.
          John A. Dix (1798–1879): An Official Despatch, Jan. 29, 1861.
    I envy them, those monks of old;
Their books they read, and their beads they told.
          G. P. R. James (1801–1860): The Monks of Old.
    A place in thy memory, dearest,
  Is all that I claim;
To pause and look back when thou hearest
  The sound of my name.
          Gerald Griffin (1803–1840): A Place in thy Memory.
    Sparkling and bright in liquid light
  Does the wine our goblets gleam in;
With hue as red as the rosy bed
  Which a bee would choose to dream in.
          Charles Fenno Hoffman (1806–1884): Sparkling and Bright.
    The very mudsills of society…. We call them slaves…. But I will not characterize that class at the North with that term; but you have it. It is there, it is everywhere; it is eternal.
          James H. Hammond (1807–1864): Speech in the U. S. Senate, March, 1858.
    It would be superfluous in me to point out to your Lordship that this is war.
          Charles Francis Adams (1807–1886): Despatch to Earl Russell, Sept. 5, 1863.
    We are swinging round the circle.
          Andrew Johnson (1808–1875): On the Presidential Reconstruction Tour, August, 1866.
    We have been friends together
  In sunshine and in shade.
          Caroline E. S. Norton (1808–1877): We have been Friends.
    All we ask is to be let alone.
          Jefferson Davis (1808–1889): First Message to the Confederate Congress, March, 1861.
    ’T is said that absence conquers love;
  But oh believe it not!
I ’ve tried, alas! its power to prove,
  But thou art not forgot.
          Frederick W. Thomas (1808– ——): Absence conquers Love.
    Oh would I were a boy again,
  When life seemed formed of sunny years,
And all the heart then knew of pain
  Was wept away in transient tears!
          Mark Lemon (1809–1870): Oh would I were a Boy again.
    Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toun,
Upstairs and dounstairs, in his nicht-goun,
Tirlin’ at the window, cryin’ at the lock,
“Are the weans in their bed? for it ’s nou ten o’clock.”
          William Miller (1810–1872): Willie Winkie.
    We are Republicans, and don’t propose to leave our party and identify ourselves with the party whose antecedents have been Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion.
          Samuel D. Burchard (1812– ——),—one of the deputation visiting Mr. Blaine, Oct. 29, 1884.
    A life on the ocean wave!
  A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
  And the winds their revels keep!
          Epes Sargent (1813–1881): Life on the Ocean Wave.
    What are the wild waves saying,
  Sister, the whole day long,
That ever amid our playing
  I hear but their low, lone song?
          Joseph E. Carpenter (1813– ——): What are the wild Waves saying?
    Well, General, we have not had many dead cavalrymen lying about lately.
          Joseph Hooker (1813–1879): A remark to General Averill, November, 1862.
    Come in the evening, or come in the morning;
Come when you ’re looked for, or come without warning.
          Thomas O. Davis (1814–1845): The Welcome.
    But whether on the scaffold high
  Or in the battle’s van,
The fittest place where man can die
  Is where he dies for man!
          Michael J. Barry (Circa 1815): The Dublin Nation, Sept. 28, 1844, Vol. ii. p. 809.
    Oh the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,—
A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing!
          Julia Pardoe (1816–1862): The Captive Greek Girl.
    Let wealth and commerce, laws and learning die,
But leave us still our old nobility.
          Lord John Manners (1818– ——): England’s Trust. Part iii. Line 227.
    Why thus longing, thus forever sighing
  For the far-off, unattain’d, and dim,
While the beautiful all round thee lying
  Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?
          Harriet W. Sewall (1819–1889): Why thus longing?
    Don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
  Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown;
Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile,
  And trembl’d with fear at your frown!
          Thomas Dunn English (1819– ——): Ben Bolt.
    The Survival of the Fittest.
          Herbert Spencer (1820– ——): Principles of Biology, Vol. i. Chap. xii. (American edition, 1867.)
    Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight?
  Who blushes at the name?
When cowards mock the patriot’s fate,
  Who hangs his head for shame?
          John K. Ingram (1820– ——): The Dublin Nation, April 1, 1843, Vol. ii. p. 339.
    On Fame’s eternal camping-ground
  Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards with solemn round
  The bivouac of the dead.
          Theodore O’Hara (1820–1867): The Bivouac of the Dead. (August, 1847.)
    Hold the fort! I am coming!
          William T. Sherman (1820–1891),—signalled to General Corse in Allatoona from the top of Kenesaw, Oct. 5, 1864.
    For every wave with dimpled face
  That leap’d upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace
  And held it trembling there.
          Amelia B. Welby (1821–1852): Musings. Stanza 4.
    To look up and not down,
To look forward and not back,
To look out and not in, and
To lend a hand.
          Edward Everett Hale (1822– ——): Rule of the “Harry Wadsworth Club” (from “Ten Times One is Ten,” 1870).
    Listen! John A. Logan is the Head Centre, the Hub, the King Pin, the Main Spring, Mogul, and Mugwump of the final plot by which partisanship was installed in the Commission.
          Isaac H. Bromley (1833– ——): Editorial in the “New York Tribune,” Feb. 16, 1877.
    A mugwump is a person educated beyond his intellect.
          Horace Porter (1837– ——), a bon-mot in the Cleveland-Blaine campaign of 1884.
    I never could believe that Providence had sent a few men into the world, ready booted and spurred to ride, and millions ready saddled and bridled to be ridden.
          Richard Rumbold, on the scaffold, 1685. History of England (Macaulay), Chap v.
    The last link is broken
  That bound me to thee,
And the words thou hast spoken
  Have render’d me free.
          Fanny Steers: Song.
    Old Simon the cellarer keeps a rare store
Of Malmsey and Malvoisie.
          G. W. Bellamy: Simon the Cellarer.
    Babylon in all its desolation is a sight not so awful as that of the human mind in ruins. 1
          Scrope Davies: Letter to Thomas Raikes, May 25, 1835.
    She ’s all my fancy painted her;
  She ’s lovely, she ’s divine.
          William Mee: Alice Gray.
    Stately and tall he moves in the hall,
  The chief of a thousand for grace.
          Kate Franklin: Life at Olympus, Lady’s Book, Vol. xxiii. p. 33.
    When the sun’s last rays are fading
  Into twilight soft and dim.
          Theodore L. Barker: Thou wilt think of me again.
    Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee
  And cherish’d thine image for years;
Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee,
  In secret, in silence, and tears.
          Mrs. (David) Porter: Thou hast wounded the Spirit.
    Rattle his bones over the stones!
He ’s only a pauper, whom nobody owns!
          Thomas Noel: The Pauper’s Ride.
    In the days when we went gypsying
  A long time ago;
The lads and lassies in their best
  Were dress’d from top to toe.
          Edwin Ransford: In the Days when we went Gypsying.
    Speak gently! ’t is a little thing
  Dropp’d in the heart’s deep well;
The good, the joy, that it may bring
  Eternity shall tell.
          G. W. Langford: Speak gently.
    Hope tells a flattering tale, 2
  Delusive, vain, and hollow.
Ah! let not hope prevail,
  Lest disappointment follow.
          Miss —— Wrother: The Universal Songster. Vol. ii. p. 86.
    Nose, nose, nose, nose!
And who gave thee that jolly red nose?
Sinament and Ginger, Nutmegs and Cloves,
And that gave me my jolly red nose.
          Ravenscroft: Deuteromela, Song No. 7. 3 (1609.)
    The mother said to her daughter, “Daughter, bid thy daughter tell her daughter that her daughter’s daughter hath a daughter.”
          George Hakewill: Apologie. Book iii. Chap. v. Sect. 9. 4
    Betwixt the stirrup and the ground,
Mercy I ask’d; mercy I found. 5
          William Camden: Remains.
    Begone, dull Care! I prithee begone from me!
Begone, dull Care! thou and I shall never agree.
          Playford: Musical Companion. (1687.)
    Much of a muchness.
          Vanbrugh: The Provoked Husband, Act i. Sc. 1.
    Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John,
The bed be blest that I lye on.
          Thomas Ady: A Candle in the Dark, p. 58. (London 1656.)
    Junius, Aprilis, Septémq; Nouemq; tricenos,
Vnum plus reliqui, Februs tenet octo vicenos,
At si bissextus fuerit superadditur vnus.
          William Harrison: Description of Britain (prefixed to Holinshed’s “Chronicle,” 1577).
    Thirty dayes hath Nouember,
Aprill, June, and September,
February hath xxviii alone,
And all the rest have xxxi.
          Richard Grafton: Chronicles of England. (1590.)
    Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November,
February has twenty-eight alone,
All the rest have thirty-one;
Excepting leap year,—that ’s the time
When February’s days are twenty-nine.
          The Return from Parnassus. (London, 1606.)
    Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting February alone,
Which hath but twenty-eight, in fine,
Till leap year gives it twenty-nine.
          Common in the New England States.
    Fourth, eleventh, ninth, and sixth,
Thirty days to each affix;
Every other thirty-one
Except the second month alone.
          Common in Chester County, Penn., among the Friends.
    “Be of good comfort, Master Ridley,” Latimer cried at the crackling of the flames. “Play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.” 6
          Common in Chester County, Penn., among the Friends.
    There is a garden in her face,
  Where roses and white lilies show;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
  Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow.
There cherries hang that none may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
          An Howres Recreation in Musike. (1606. Set to music by Richard Alison. Oliphant’s “La Messa Madrigalesca,” p. 229.)
    Those cherries fairly do enclose
  Of orient pearl a double row;
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
  They look like rosebuds filled with snow.
          An Howres Recreation in Musike. (1606. Set to music by Richard Alison. Oliphant’s “La Messa Madrigalesca,” p. 229.)
    A vest as admired Voltiger had on,
Which from this Island’s foes his grandsire won,
Whose artful colour pass’d the Tyrian dye,
Obliged to triumph in this legacy. 7
          The British Princes, p. 96. (1669.)
    When Adam dolve, and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?
          Lines used by John Ball in Wat Tyler’s Rebellion. 8
    Now bething the, gentilman,
How Adam dalf, and Eve span. 9
          MS. of the Fifteenth Century (British Museum).
    Use three Physicians,—
Still-first Dr. Quiet;
Next Dr. Mery-man,
And Dr. Dyet. 10
          Regimen Sanitatis Salernitanum (edition of 1607).
    The King of France went up the hill
  With twenty thousand men;
The King of France came down the hill,
  And ne’er went up again.
    In Adam’s fall
We sinned all.
    My Book and Heart
Must never part.
    Young Obadias,
David, Josias,—
All were pious.
    Peter denyed
His Lord, and cryed.
    Young Timothy
Learnt sin to fly.
    Xerxes did die,
And so must I.
    Zaccheus he
Did climb the tree
Our Lord to see.
    Our days begin with trouble here,
  Our life is but a span,
And cruel death is always near,
  So frail a thing is man.
    Now I lay me down to take my sleep, 11
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
    His wife, with nine small children and one at the breast, following him to the stake.
          Martyrdom of John Rogers. Burned at Smithfield, Feb. 14, 1554. 12
    And shall Trelawny die?
Here ’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why. 13
    Mater ait naté, dic naté, natam
Ut moneat naté, plangere filiolam.

The mother to her daughter spake:
  ”Daughter,” said she, “arise!
Thy daughter to her daughter take,
  Whose daughter’s daughter cries.”
          A Distich, according to Zwingler, on a Lady of the Dalburg Family who saw her descendants to the sixth generation.
    A woman’s work, grave sirs, is never done.
          Poem spoken by Mr. Eusden at a Cambridge Commencement. 14
    Count that day lost whose low descending sun
Views from thy hand no worthy action done. 15
          Author unknown. 16
    The gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination, the melancholy madness of poetry without the inspiration. 17
          Letters of Junius. Letter vii. To Sir W. Draper.
    I do not give you to posterity as a pattern to imitate, but as an example to deter.
          Letters of Junius. Letter xii. To the Duke of Grafton.
    The Americans equally detest the pageantry of a king and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop. 18
          Letters of Junius. Letter xxxv.
    The heart to conceive, the understanding to direct, or the hand to execute. 19
          Letters of Junius. Letter xxxvii. City Address, and the King’s Answer.
    Private credit is wealth; public honour is security. The feather that adorns the royal bird supports its flight; strip him of his plumage, and you fix him to the earth.
          Letters of Junius. Letter xlii. Affair of the Falkland Islands.
    ’T is well to be merry and wise,
  ’T is well to be honest and true;
’T is well to be off with the old love
  Before you are on with the new.
          Lines used by Maturin as the motto to “Bertram,” produced at Drury Lane, 1816.
    Still so gently o’er me stealing,
Mem’ry will bring back the feeling,
Spite of all my grief revealing,
That I love thee,—that I dearly love thee still.
          Opera of La Sonnambula.
    Happy am I; from care I ’m free!
Why ar’ n’t they all contented like me?
          Opera of La Bayadère.
    It is so soon that I am done for,
I wonder what I was begun for.
          Epitaph on a child who died at the age of three weeks (Cheltenham Churchyard).
    An Austrian army, awfully array’d,
Boldly by battery besiege Belgrade;
Cossack commanders cannonading come,
Deal devastation’s dire destructive doom;
Ev’ry endeavour engineers essay,
For fame, for freedom, fight, fierce furious fray.
Gen’rals ’gainst gen’rals grapple,—gracious God!
How honors Heav’n heroic hardihood!
Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill,
Just Jesus, instant innocence instill!
Kinsmen kill kinsmen, kindred kindred kill.
Labour low levels longest, loftiest lines;
Men march ’midst mounds, motes, mountains, murd’rous mines.
Now noisy, noxious numbers notice nought,
Of outward obstacles o’ercoming ought;
Poor patriots perish, persecution’s pest!
Quite quiet Quakers “Quarter, quarter” quest;
Reason returns, religion, right, redounds,
Suwarrow stop such sanguinary sounds!
Truce to thee, Turkey, terror to thy train!
Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine!
Vanish vile vengeance, vanish victory vain!
Why wish we warfare? wherefore welcome won
Xerxes, Xantippus, Xavier, Xenophon?
Yield, ye young Yaghier yeomen, yield your yell!
Zimmerman’s, Zoroaster’s, Zeno’s zeal
Again attract; arts against arms appeal.
All, all ambitious aims, avaunt, away!
Et cætera, et cætera, et cætera.
          Alliteration, or the Siege of Belgrade: a Rondeau. 20
    But were it to my fancy given
To rate her charms, I ’d call them heaven;
For though a mortal made of clay,
Angels must love Ann Hathaway;
She hath a way so to control,
To rapture the imprisoned soul,
And sweetest heaven on earth display,
That to be heaven Ann hath a way;
      She hath a way,
      Ann Hathaway,—
To be heaven’s self Ann hath a way.
          Attributed to Shakespeare. 21
Note 1.
Babylon in ruins is not so melancholy a spectacle (as a distracted person). Joseph Addison: Spectator, No. 421. [back]
Note 2.
Hope told a flattering tale,
That Joy would soon return;
Ah! naught my sighs avail,
For Love is doomed to mourn.
Anonymous (air by Giovanni Paisiello, 1741–1816): Universal Songster, vol. i. p. 320. [back]
Note 3.
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Knight of the Burning Pestle, act i. sc. 3. [back]
Note 4.
Hakewill translated this from the “Theatrum Vitæ Humanæ,” vol. iii. [back]
Note 5.
Altered by Johnson (1783),—
Between the stirrup and the ground,
I mercy ask’d; I mercy found. [back]
Note 6.
I shall light a candle of understanding in thine heart, which shall not be put out.—2 Esdras xiv. 25. [back]
Note 7.
The oft-quoted lines,—
A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won,
have been ascribed to Blackmore, but suppressed in the later editions of his poems. [back]
Note 8.
Hume: History of England, vol. i. chap. xvii. note 8. [back]
Note 9.
The same proverb existed in German:—

So Adam reutte, und Eva span,
Wer war da ein eddelman?
Agricola: Proverbs, No. 254. [back]
Note 10.
See Swift, Quotation 45. [back]
Note 11.
It is said that in the earliest edition of the New England Primer this prayer is given as above, which is copied from the reprint of 1777. In the edition of 1784 it is altered to “Now I lay me down to sleep.” In the edition of 1814 the second line of the prayer reads, “I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep.” [back]
Note 12.
The true date of his death is Feb. 4, 1555. [back]
Note 13.
Robert Stephen Hawker incorporated these lines into “The Song of the Western Men,” written by him in 1825. It was praised by Sir Walter Scott and Macaulay under the impression that it was the ancient song. It has been a popular proverb throughout Cornwall ever since the imprisonment by James II. of the seven bishops,—one of them Sir Jonathan Trelawny. [back]
Note 14.
It was printed for the second time, in London, 1714. [back]
Note 15.
In the Preface to Mr. Nichols’s work on Autographs, among other albums noticed by him as being in the British Museum is that of David Krieg, with James Bobart’s autograph (Dec. 8, 1697) and the verses,—
Virtus sui gloria.
“Think that day lost whose descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.”
Bobart died about 1726. He was a son of the celebrated botanist of that name. The verses are given as an early instance of their use. [back]
Note 16.
This is found in Staniford’s “Art of Reading,” third edition, p. 27 (Boston, 1803). [back]
Note 17.
See Burke, Quotation 46. [back]
Note 18.
See Choate, Quotation 1. [back]
Note 19.
See Clarendon, Quotation 1. [back]
Note 20.
These lines having been incorrectly printed in a London publication, we have been favoured by the author with an authentic copy of them.—Wheeler’s Magazine, vol. i. p. 244. (Winchester, England, 1828.) [back]
Note 21.
This poem entire may be found in Rossiter Johnson’s “Famous Single and Fugitive Poems.” [back]