SEPARATION —see Adieu, Farewell, Parting.
The limner's art may trace the absent feature,
And give the eye of distant weeping faith
To view the form of its idolatry;

--

But oh! the scenes 'mid which they met and parted;
The thoughts- the recollections sweet and bitter,
Th' Elysian dreams of lovers, when they loved,
Who shall restore them?

4537

Thy soul...

Is as far from my grasp, is as free,

Maturin: Bertram. i. 5.

As the stars from the mountain-tops be,

As the pearl in the depths of the sea,

From the portionless king that would wear it.

4538

E. C. Stedman: Stanzas for Music. St. 3.

SERENADE-see Music, Singing.

Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls,
And makes night hideous;

4539

SERMONS

answer him, ye owls.

Pope: Dunciad. Bk. iii. Line 165.

see Preaching, Worship.

That from your meetings I refrain, is true;
I meet with nothing pleasant nothing new;
But the same proofs, that not one text explain,
And the same lights, where all things dark remain.
4540

Crabbe: Tales. Convert. Line 262.

I have done the state some service, and they know it. 4541

Shaks.: Othello. Act v. Sc. 2.

Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal

I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

4542

Shaks.: Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2. -From the king

To the beggar, by gradation, all are servants;

And you must grant, the slavery is less

To study to please one, than many.

4543

Massinger: Unnatural Combat. Act iii. Sc. 2.

SEVERITY.

With common men

There needs too oft the show of war to keep The substance of sweet peace; and for a king, 'Tis sometimes better to be fear'd than loved.

4546

Byron: Sardanapalus. Act i. Sc. 2

SEXTON -see Funeral, Grave.

See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle!

Of hard, unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole

A gentle tear; with mattock in his hand,

Digs thro' whole rows of kindred and acquaintance
By far his juniors! Scarce a skull's cast up

But well he knew its owner, and can tell
Some passage of his life.

4547

SHADOW.

Blair: Grave. Line 452.

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.

Shaks.: Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.

4548 Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart. 4549

Shaks.: Macbeth. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Some there be that shadows kiss,
Such have but a shadow's bliss.

4550

The very shadows seem to listen.

4551 Anna Katharine Green: The Leavenworth Case.

Shaks.: Mer. of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 9.

Th' applause! delight! the wonder of our stage!
My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie

A little further, to make thee room;

Thou art a monument, without a tomb,

And art alive still, while thy book doth live,

And we have wits to read, and praise to give.

4553 Ben Jonson: Underwoods. To the Mem. of Shakespeare. He was not of an age but for all time.

4554 Ben Jonson: Underwoods. To the Mem. of Shakespeare. Sweet Swan of Avon!

4555 Ben Jonson: Underwoods. To the Mem. of Shakespeare.

What needs my Shakespeare for his honor'd bones,
The labor of an age in pilèd stones?

Milton: On Shakespeare.

Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
4556
Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.
4557

Dryden: The Tempest. Prologue.
Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd,
And wonder'd at the work herself had made.
4558

Churchill: Author. Line 61.

In the first seat, in robe of various dyes,
A noble wildness flashing from his eyes,
Sat Shakespeare: in one hand a wand he bore,
For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore:
The other held a globe, which to his will
Obedient turn'd, and own'd the master's skill:
Things of the noblest kind his genius drew,
And look'd through nature at a single view:
A loose he gave to his unbounded soul,

And taught new lands to rise, new seas to roll;
Call'd into being scenes unknown before,

And passing nature's bounds, was something more.
4559

Churchill: Rosciad. Line 259.

Happy in tragic and in comic powers,
Have we not Shakespeare? is not Jonson ours?
For them, your natural judges, Britons, vote;
They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons wrote.
4560
Churchill: Rosciad. Line 223.
Shakespeare (whom you and every playhouse bill
Style the divine, the matchless, what you will)
For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight,
And grew immortal in his own despite.
4561
Pope: Satire v. Line 69.
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime,
With tears and laughters for all time!

4562
Mrs. Browning: Vision of Poets. St. 101
When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose;
Each change of many-colored life he drew,
Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new;
Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,
And panting Time toil'd after him in vain,

His powerful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,
And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast.

4563 Dr. Johnson: Prol. at Opening of Drury L. Theatre,

[1747. Line L

SHAME.

O, shame! where is thy blush?

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 4.

4564
When knaves and fools combin'd o'er all prevail,
When justice halts, and right begins to fail,
E'en then the boldest start from public sneers,
Afraid of shame - unknown to other fears.
More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe,
And shrink from ridicule, though not from law.
4565

SHERIDAN.

Byron: English Bards. Line 31

Long shall we seek his likeness - long in vain,
And turn to all of him which may remain,
Sighing that nature form'd but one such man,
And broke the die - in moulding Sheridan.

4566 Byron: Monody on the Death of Sheridan. Last lines.

SHIPPING- —see Sailors, Sea, Shipwreck.

Behold the threaden sails,

Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,

Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,

Breasting the lofty surge.

4567

Shaks.: Henry V. Act iii. Chorns.

A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigged,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it.

4568

Shaks.: Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2

Upon the gale she stoop'd her side,
And bounded o'er the swelling tide,
As she were dancing home:
The merry seamen laugh'd to see
Their gallant ship so lustily
Furrow the green sea-foam.

4569

Scott: Marmion. Canto il. St. L

Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurl'd,
To furnish and accommodate a world,
To give the Pole the produce of the sun,
And knit th' unsocial climates into one.
4570

Cowper: Charity. Line 123

How gloriously her gallant course she goes!
Her white wings flying- never from her foes;
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.
Who would not brave the battle-fire-the wreck
To move the monarch of her peopled deck?
4571

Byron: Corsair. Canto i. St. 3

Like sister sails that drift at night

Together on the deep,

Seen only where they cross the light
That pathless waves must pathlike keep
From fisher's signal fire, or pharos steep.

4572

Ruskin: The Broken Chain. Pt. v. St. 25.

SHIPWRECK-see Sea, Sailors.

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

The surge most swol'n that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn ba 's bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him.

4573

Shaks.: Tempest. Act ii. Sc. 1

O, I have suffer'd

With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! poor souls! they perish'd.
4574

Shaks.: Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale. 4575

Herrick: Aph. Shipwreck. What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore: Ships have been drown'd where late they danc'd before. 4576 Herrick: Aph. Safety on the Shore.

Lashed furious by destiny severe,

The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death,
Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath!

Falconer: Shipwreck. Canto iii. Line 209

In vain, alas! the sacred shades of yore
Would arm the mind with philosophic lore,
In vain they'd teach us, at the latest breath,
To smile serene amid the pangs of death.
4577
Again she plunges! hark! a second shock
Bilges the splitting Vessel on the Rock-
Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries
The fated victims shuddering cast their eyes,
In wild despair; while yet another stroke,
With strong convulsion rends the solid oak:
Ah Heaven! behold her crashing ribs divide!
She loosens, parts, and spreads in ruin o'er the Tide.
4578

Falconer: Shipwreck. Canto iii. Line 64