CHURCHYARD see Grave.

The solitary, silent, solemn scene,

Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the slave
Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud
Resigns his power; the miser drops his hoard;
Where human folly sleeps.

676

CHURLISHNESS.

Dyer: Ruins of Rome. Line 540

My master is of churlish disposition,
And little recks to find the way to heaven,
By doing deeds of hospitality.

677

CIRCUMSTANCES.

Shaks.: As You Like It. Act ii. Sc 4

And grasps the skirts of happy chance,
And breasts the blows of circumstance.

678 CITIZEN.

Tennyson: In Memoriam. Pt. lxiii. St. 2.

Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth;
His word would pass for more than he was worth.
One solid dish his week-day meal affords,
And added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's.
679

CLEANLINESS.

Pope: Moral Essays. Epis. iii. Line 343.

E'en from the body's purity, the mină
Receives a secret sympathetic aid.

680 CLERGYMAN.

Thomson: Seasons. Summer. Line 1269 see Church, Preaching.

Then shall they seek t' avail themselves of names,
Places, and titles, and with these to join
Secular power, though feigning still to act
By spiritual, to themselves appropriating
The Spirit of God, promised alike and given
To all believers.
681

Milton: Par. Lost. Bk. xii. Line 516.

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd,
And still where many a garden flow'r grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,

And passing rich with forty pounds a year.
682

In his duty prompt at every call,

Goldsmith: Des. Village. Line 127

Goldsmith: Des. Village. Line 165

He watch'd, and wept, and felt, and pray'd for all.

683

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
684

Goldsmith: Des. Village. Line 177

Your Lordship and your Grace, what school can teach
A rhetoric equal to those parts of speech?
What need of Homer's verse, or Tully's prose,
Sweet interjections! if he learn but those?
Let rev'rend churls his ignorance rebuke,
Who starve upon a dog's ear'd Pentateuch,
The Parson knows enough who knows a Duke.
685

Cowper: Tirocinium. Line 397

He that negotiates between God and man,
As God's ambassador, the grand concerns
Of judgment and of mercy, should beware
Of lightness in his speech.

686

Cowper: Task. Bk. ii. Line 463

I venerate the man, whose heart is warm,

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof

That he is honest in the sacred cause.

687

Cowper: Task. Bk. ii. Line 372.

In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers,
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. "Tis my perfect scorn:
Object of my implacable disgust.

688

Cowper: Task. Bk. ii. Line 414.

There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark!
And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.
689

Cowper: On Some Names of Little Note.

Whate'er

I may have been, or am, doth rest between

Heaven and myself. — I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator.

690

Byron: Manfred. Act ill. Sc. 1.

Byron: Corsair. Canto ii. St. 3.

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.
691

What makes all doc 'rines plain and clear?
About two hundred pounds a year.

And that which was prov'd true before,

692

Butler: Hudibras. Pt. iii. Canto i Line 1277

Prove false again? Two hundred more.

Be sure to keep up congregations,
In spite of laws and proclamations,
For charlatans can do no good,

Until they're mounted in a crowd.

693

Butler: Hudibras. Pt. iii. Canto ii. Line 959

The proud he tam'd, the penitent he cheer'd :
Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd.

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought-
(A living sermon of the truths he taught --)
For this by rules severe his life he squar'd,
That all might see the doctrine which they heard.

694

Dryden Character of a Good Parson. Line 75

Hear how he clears the points o' faith

Wi' rattlin an' thumpin!

Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,
He's stampin, an' he's jumpin!

695

CLOUDS.

Burns: Holy Fair. St. 13

The clouds consign their treasure to the fields,
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effusion o'er a freshen'd world.
696

Thomson: Seasons. Spring. Line 173
Bright clouds,

their white tops

Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven
Their bases on the mountains
Shining in the far ether - fire the air
With a reflected radiance, and make turn
The gazer's eye away.

697

William Cullen Bryant: Summer Wind

Beautiful cloud! with folds so soft and fair,
Swimming in the pure quiet air!

Thy fleeces bathed in sunlight, while below
Thy shadow o'er the vale moves slow;

Where, midst their labor, pause the reaper train,

As cool it comes along the grain.

698

William Cullen Bryant: To a Cloud
The August cloud

Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair frail palaces,
The fading Alps and archipelagoes,

And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.
700

T. B. Aldrich: Miracles

wit

Clouds on the western side

Grow gray and grayer, hiding the warm sun.

701

Christina G. Rossetti: Twilight Calm

When evening touched the cape's low rim,
And dark fell on the waves,

We only saw processions dim

Of clouds, from shadowy caves;

These were the ghosts of buried ships

Gone down in one brief hour's eclipse.

702 James T. Fields: Morning and Evening by the Sea

Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance,

Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air,

Thy battlements hang o'er the slopes and the forests,
Seats of the Gods in the limitless ether,

Looming sublimely aloft and afar.

703

Bayard Taylor: Kilimandjaro.

They are fair resting-places

Joaquin Miller: Ina. Sc. 1.

For the dear weary dead on their way up to heaven. 704

One single cloud, a dusky bar,

Burnt with dull carmine through and through,
Slow smouldering in the summer sky,
Lies low along the fading west.

705

Cloud-walls of the morning's gray
Faced with amber column,

Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn.

May-mists, for the casements, fetch,

Pale and glimmering,

With a sunbeam hid in each,

And a smell of spring.

706

Celia Thaxter: Song.

Mrs. Browning: The House of Clouds

I loved the Clouds.

Fire-fringed at dawn, or red with twilight bloom,
Or stretched above, like isles of leaden gloom
In heaven's vast deep, or drawn in belts of gray,
Or dark blue walls along the base of day;

Or snow-drifts luminous at highest noon,

Ragged and black in tempests, veined with lightning,
And when the moon was brightening

Impearled and purpled by the changeful moon.

707

R. H. Stoddard: Carmen Naturae Triumphale Those clouds are angels' robes.- That fiery west Is paved with smiling faces.

708

Charles Kingsley: Saint's Tragedy. Act i. Sc. 3

I see in the south uprising a little cloud, That before the sun shall be set will cover the sky above us as with a shroud.

709

Longfellow: Christus. Golden Legend. Pt. iv.

By unseen hands uplifted in the light

Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud

Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad,
And wafted up to heaven.

Go, call a coach, and let a coach be call'd,
And let the man who calleth be the caller,
And in his calling let him nothing call

But coach! coach! coach! oh, for a coach, ye gods!
Carey: Chrononhotonthologos. Act i. Sc. 3.

712

COCK-CROWING.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

713

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

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day.

714

COLLECTOR.

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

715

COMFORT.

Shaks.: Wint. Tale. Act iv. Sc. 2.

O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution;

That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I'm past all comforts here but prayers. 716

COMMENTATORS.

Shaks.: Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2

These leave the sense, their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.

717

Pope: E. on Criticism. Pt. i. Line 116

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the braiu,
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
718

Crabbe: Parish Register. Pt. i. Line 89