Earth is all in splendor drest;
Queenly fair, she sits at rest,
While the deep, delicious day
Dreams its happy life away.

259

Margaret E. Sangster: An Autumn Day. St 4

With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod;
And everywhere the Purple Asters nod
And bend and wave and flit.

262

Helen Hunt: Asters and Golden Roč.

That beautiful season

the Summer of All-Saints!

Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape

Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of

the ocean

Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony blended.

And the great sun

Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around him;

While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow, Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the forest

Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels.

263

Longfellow: Evangeline. Part i. ii. Line 11.

Shorter and shorter now the twilight clips
The days, as through the sunset gates they crowd.
And Summer from her golden collar slips

And strays through stubble-fields, and moans aloud,
Save when by fits the warmer air deceives,

And, stealing hopeful to some sheltered bower,
She lies on pillows of the yellow leaves,

And tries the old tunes over for an hour.

264

Alice Cary: Autum

This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be overrun.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation.

265

Dante Gabriel Rossetti: Autumn Idleness

Summer is gone on swallows' wings,
And earth has buried all her flowers:

No more the lark, the linnet sings,
But Silence sits in faded bowers.
There is a shadow on the plain
Of Winter ere he comes again.
266

Hood: Departure of Summer.

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn.

267

Hood: Autumn.

How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fied!
Hues of all flow'rs that in their ashes lie,
Trophied in that fair light whereon they fed,
Tulip, and hyacinth, and sweet rose red,
Like exhalations from the leafy mould,
Look here how honor glorifies the dead,

And warms their scutcheons with a glance of gold.
268
Hood: Written in a vol. of Shakespeare,

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.

269 William Cullen Bryant: Death of the Flowers Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in their freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.

270

William Cullen Bryant: Third of November

The rule, get money, still get money, boy,
No matter by what means.

273

Ben Jonson: Every Man in his H. Act ii. Sc. 3.

And hence one master passion in the breast,
Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.

274 Pope: Essay on Man. Epis. ii. Line 131. Riches, like insects, when conceal'd they lie, Wait but for wings, and in their season fly. 275 Pope: Moral Essays. Epis. iii. Line 169. Wealth in the gross is death, but life diffus'd, As poison heals, in just proportion us'd; In heaps, like ambergris, a stink it lies, But well dispers'd, is incense to the skies. 276

Pope: Moral Essays. Epis. iii. Line 233.

'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ
To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy;
Is it less strange the prodigal should waste
His wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste?
277

Pope: Moral Essays. Epis. iv. Line 1.
The lust of gold succeeds the rags of conquest:
The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless!
The last corruption of degenerate man.

278

Dr. Johnson: Irene. Act i. Sc. 1.
A thirst for gold,

The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm
The meanest hearts.

279

Byron: Vision of J. St. 43.

Byron: Don Juan. Canto i. St. 216

So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice. 280

AWKWARDNESS.

Awkward, embarrassed, stiff, without the skill
Of moving gracefully, or standing still,
One leg, as if suspicious of his brother,
Lesirous seems to run away from t'other.
281

Churchill: Rosciad. Line 438

What's a fine person, or a beauteous face,
Unless deportment gives them decent grace?
Bless'd with all other requisites to please,
Some want the striking elegance of ease;
The curious eye their awkward movement tires;
They seem like puppets led about by wires.
Churchill: Rosciad. Line 741

282

B.

BALL-see Dancing.

The music, and the banquet, and the wine-
The garlands, the rose-odors, and the flowers-
The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments —
The white arms and the raven hair - the braids
And bracelets-swan-like bosoms, and the necklace,
An India itself, yet dazzling not

The eye like what it circled; the thin robes,

Floating like light clouds 'twixt our gaze and heaven. 283 Mar. Faliero. Act iv Sc. 1

Byron

I saw her at a county ball;

There when the sound of flute and fiddle

Gave signal sweet in that old hall,

Of hands across and down the middle.

Hers was the subtlest spell by far

Of all that sets young hearts romancing;

She was our queen, our rose, our star;

And then she danced—oh, heaven, her dancing!

284

BANISHMENT

Praed: Belle of the Ball-Room. St. 2

Banished?

O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,

A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word-banished?
285

BARBERRIES.

Shaks.: Rom. and Jul. Act iii. Sc. 3

In scarlet clusters o'er the gray stone-wall
The barberries lean in thin autumnal air:
Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare,
And ere the green leaf takes the tint of fall,
They come to make the eye a festival!
Along the road, for miles, their torches flare.
286

T. B. Aldrich: Barberries. Sonnet vii

BARGAIN -see Commerce, Trade.
.I'll give thrice so much land

To any well-deserving friend;

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

287

BASHFULNESS.

Shaks.: 1 Henry IV. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Of all our parts, the eyes express The sweetest kind of bashfulness. 288

Herrick: Aph. Bashfulness

To get thine ends, lay bashfulness aside; Who fears to ask, doth teach to be deny'd. 289

Herrick: Aph. No Bashfulness in Begging.

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain

Of fancied scorn, and undeserv'd disdain,
And bear the marks upon a blushing face,
Of needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.
290

Cowper: Conversation. Line 347.

So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less.

291 BATTLE

Byron: Bride of Ab. Canto i. St. 8.

see Soldiers, War.

This day hath made

Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground.
Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Coldly embracing the discolor'd earth.

292

Shaks.: King John. Act ii. Sc. 2.

The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation.

293

Shaks.: King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

and if to live,

If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our country loss;
The fewer men the greater share of honor.

294

Shaks. Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.

Each at the head

Levell❜d his deadly aim; their fatal hands
No second stroke intend.

295

Milton: Par. Lost. Bk. ii. Line 711

Those that fly may fight again,

Which he can never do that's slain.1

296

"Butler: Hudibras. Pt. iii. Canto iii. Line 243

1 See Notes tracing the pedigree of this distich and its parallels, in Iludi bras, Ed. Bohn, pp. 106 and 403.