Ay, think upon the cause Forget it not-When you lie down to rest, Byron's Doge of Venice. A slave insults me-I require his punishment Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge, Ibid. Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 2. Revenge, at first thought sweet, Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils. RICHES. Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, Ibid. b. 9. The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. Milton's Paradise Regained, b. 2. Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, Happy the man, who, void of cares and strife, A splendid shilling. Ibid. Philip's Splendid Shilling. High-built abundance, heap on heap! for what? Young's Night Thoughts, n. 6. Much learning shows how little mortals know; Young's Night Thoughts, n. 6. Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd; Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast The generous luxury the gods enjoy. Armstrong's Art of Preserving Health, b..4. Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life, Whom falsely-smiling fate has curs'd with means RUINS: How rev'rend is the face of this tall pile, Ibid. Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe Congreve's Mourning Bride. S. SCOLD. Then must'ring all her wiles, With blandish'd parlies, feminine assaults, and rest, I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart. Milton's Samson Agonistes. SCORN. And what a thing, ye gods, is scorn or pity! And the world shun me, so I 'scape but scorn. Infamous wretch ! Lee. So much below my scorn, I dare not kill thee. Dryden's Duke of Guise. Think not there is no smile I can bestow on thee. There is a smile, A smile of nature too, which I can spare, And yet perhaps, thou wilt not thank me for it. Joanna Baillie's De Monfort, a. 2, s. 1. could not tame my nature down; for he Must serve who fain would sway-and soothe-and sue And watch all time-and pry into all place- Byron's Manfred, a. 3, s. 1. And not for reptiles-we have none for Steno, Of life. The man who dies by the adder's fang Byron's Doge of Venice, a. 5, s. 1. Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with scorn, ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain. Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 4. He hears On all sides, from innumerable tongues, A dismal universal hiss, the sound Of public scorn. SEA. Ibid. b. 10. I loved to stand on some high beetling rock, Watching the waves with all their white crests dancing Gallantly bounding. Sir A. Hunt's Julian. SEDUCTION-SELFISHNESS-SERPENTS. 283 SEDUCTION. Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men! Otway's Orphan. He ended, and his words replete with guile, Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 9. Ah then, ye fair! Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts: Thomson's Seasons-Spring. SELFISHNESS. The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels. Young's Night Thoughts, n. 1. SERPENTS. Would'st thou have men without them? must no rep tiles Breathe, save the erect ones? Byron's Cain, a. 2, S. 1. |