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CONSIDERATION - CONSTANCY.

To be head

We'll cut off any member, and condemn
Virtue or folly for a diadem,

Banish religion, and make blood as cheap,
As when two armies, turn'd into one heap
Of carcasses, lye grov'ling: what care we
For the slight tainture of disloyalty?
None will commend the race till it be run,

CONSTANCY.

I am constant as the northern star;
Of whose true, fix'd and resting quality
There is no fellow in the firmament.

81

Shaks. Julius Cæsar. Sooner I'll think the sun would cease to cheer

And these are deeds, not prais'd till they are done. The teeming earth, and then forget to bear; Sooner that rivers would run back, or Thames With ribs of ice in June would bind his streams. Or nature, by whose strength the world endures, Would change her course before you alter yours. Jonson

Robert Gomersall. Provide what money, and what arms you can; Who has the gold, shall never want the man. Baron's Merza.

My plots fall short, like darts, which rash hands It is a noble constancy you show

throw,

With an ill aim, and have too far to go;
Nor can I long discoveries prevent,

I deal too much among the innocent.

Sir Robert Howard's Vestal Virgin.

Oh! think what anxious moments pass between
The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods;
Oh! 't is a dreadful interval of time,
Fill'd up with horror, and big with death.

To this afflicted house: that not like others,
The friends of season, you do follow fortune,
And in the winter of their fate, forsake
The place, whose glories warm'd you.

Jonson's Sejanus.

First shall the heav'n's bright lamp forget to shine,
The stars shall from the azur'd sky decline:
First shall the orient with the west shake hand,
The centre of the world shall cease to stand:
Addison's Cato. First wolves shall league with lambs, the dolphins

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Hang consideration!
When this is spent, is not our ship the same,
Our courage too the same, to fetch in more?
The earth, where it is fertilest, returns not
More than three harvests, while the glorious sun
Posts through the zodiac, and makes up the year.
But the sea, which is our mother (that embraces
Both the rich Indies in her outstretch'd arms,)
Yields every day a crop if we dare reap it.
No, no, my mates, let tradesmen think of thrift,
And usurers hoard up; let our expense
Be as our comings in are, without bounds.

F

Massinger.

Buckingham.

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Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Those that are bred in labour think it sport, Did scowl on Richard.

Above the soft delight which wanton appetite

Shaks. Richard II. Begets for others, whom indulgent fortune
Prefers in her degrees, though equal nature
Made all alike.

Hold, Clifford; do not honour him so much,
To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart;
What valour were it when a cur doth grin,
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
When he might spurn him with his foot away?
Shaks. Henry VI. Part III.

Tis true, I am hard buffeted,
Though few can be my focs,
Harsh words fall heavy on my head,
And unresisted blows.

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Nabb's Tottenham Court.
Each good mind doubles his own free content,
When in another's use they give it vent.
Sir Giles Goosecap.

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Shaks. Henry VIII.
Poor and content, is rich and rich enough;
But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter,
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

Shaks. Othello My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is call'd content; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. Shaks. Henry VI. Part III

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To him who much desires. Thrice happy he
To whom the wise indulgency of heaven,
With sparing hand, but just enough has given.

Cellars and granaries in vain we fill
With all the bounteous summer's store,
If the mind thirst and hunger still:
The poor rich man's emphatically poor.
Slaves to the things we too much prize,
We masters grow of all that we despise.

The cynic hugs his poverty,

The pelican her wilderness;
And 'tis the Indian's pride to be
Naked on frozen Caucasus:

Cowley.

Contentment cannot smart; stoics, we see, Make torments easy to their apathy.

O may I with myself agree,
And never covet what I see;
Content me with an humble shade,
My passions tam'd, my wishes laid;
For while our wishes wildly roll,
We banish quiet from the soul;
'Tis then the busy beat the air,
And misers gather wealth and care.

Cowley.

I've trac'd thee on the peasant's cheek;
I've mark'd thee in the milkmaid's smi.e;
I've heard thee loudly laugh and speak,
Amid the sons of want and toil;
Yet in the circles of the great,
Where fortune's gifts are all combin'd,
I've sought thee early, sought thee late,
And ne'er thy lovely form could find.
Since then from wealth and pomp you flee,
I ask but competence and thee!

Lady Manners
Life's but a short chase; our game-content,
Which most pursued, is most compell'd to fly:
And he that mounts him on the swiftest hope,
Shall soonest run his courser to a stand;
While the poor peasant from some distant hill,
Undanger'd and at ease, views all the sport,
And sees content take shelter in his cottage.
Cibber's Richard III

Her poverty was glad; her heart content,
Nor knew she what the spleen or vapours meant
Dryder.

Contentment parent of delight,
So much a stranger to our sight,
Say, goddess in what happy place,
Mortals behold thy blooming face;
Anon. Thy gracious auspices impart,

And for thy temple choose my heart,
They whom thou deignest to inspire,
Thy science learn, to bound desire;
By happy alchymy of mind,

They turn to pleasure all they find.

Green's Spleen.

The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)
Is not to act or think beyond mankind

Dyer's Grongar Hill. No pow'rs of body or of soul to share,

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But what his nature and his state can bear.
Why has not man a microscopic eye?
For this plain reason-man is not a fly.
Say for what use were finer optics given
T" inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n!

Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er,

To smart and agonize at ev'ry pore?

Or quick effluvia darting through the brain,
Die of a rose in aromatic pain?

If nature thund'red in his op'ning ears,
And stunn'd him with the music of the spheres,
How would he wish that heaven had left him still
The whisp'ring zephyr, and the purling rill?
Who finds not providence all good and wise,
Alike in what it gives and what denies.

Pope's Essay on Men.

84

CONVERSATION - COQUETTE.

Honour and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honour lies.
Fortune in men has some small difference made,
One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade;
The cobler apron'd, and the parson gown'd,
The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd.
"What differ more," you cry," than crown and
cowl,"

1 11 tell you, friend!—a wise man and a fool.
You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk,
Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk,
Worth makes the man and want of it the fellow;
The rest is all but leather or prunella.

Pope's Essay on Man.
Cease then, nor order imperfection name:
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Know thy own point; this kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, heav'n bestows on thee.
Submit-in this or any other sphere,
Secure to be as bless'd as thou canst bear.
Pope's Essay on Man.
As in those domes, where Cæsars once bore sway,
Defac'd by time, and tott'ring in decay,
There in the ruin, heedless of the dead,
The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed;
And wondering man could want a larger pile,
Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
Goldsmith's Traveller.

He, fairly looking into life's account,
Saw frowns and favours were of like amount;
And viewing all-his perils, prospects, purse,
He said, "content;-'t is well it is no worse.'
Crabbe.

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|Content dwells with him, for his mind is fed, And temperance has driven out unrest.

Willis

CONVERSATION.-(See TALKING.)

COQUETTE.

While to his arms the blushing bride he took,
To seeming sadness she compos'd her look;
As if by force subjected to his will,
Though pleas'd, dissembling, and a woman still.
Dryden's Cymon and Iphigenia
She lik'd his soothing lutes, his presents more,
And granted kisses, but would grant no more.

Gay's Trivia.

Then in a kiss she breath'd her various arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts;
A mind for love, but still a changing mind,
The lisp affected, and the glance design'd;
The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink,
The gentle swimming walk, the courteous sink;
The stare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown;
For decent yielding, looks declining down;
The practis'd languish, where well-feign'd desire
Would own its melting in a mutual fire;
Gay smiles to comfort; April showers to move;
And all the nature, all the art of love.

Parnell's Hesiod.
From loveless youth to unrespected age
No passion gratified, except her rage,
So much the fury still outran the wit,
The pleasure mist her, and the scandal hit.
Pope's Moral Essays.

There affectation, with a sickly mien,
Shows in her cheeks the roses of eighteen,
Practis'd to lisp, and hang the head aside,
Faints into airs, and languishes with pride:
On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe,
Wrapt in a gown, for sickness and for show.
Pope's Rape of the Lock.
Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,
Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those;
Favours to none, to all she smiles extends,
Oft she rejects, but never once offends.
Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike,
And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
Pope's Rape of the Lock.
See how the world its veterans rewards!
A youth of frolics, an old age of cards;
Fair to no purpose, artful to no end;
Young without lovers, old without a friend;
A fop their passion, but their prize a sot;
Alive, ridiculous; and dead, forgot!

Pope's Moral Essays,

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Nymph of the mincing mouth and languid eye,
And lisping tongue so soft, and head awry,
And flutt'ring heart, of leaves of aspen made;
Who were thy parents, blushful virgin? —say;
Perchance dame Folly gave thee to the day,
With Gaffer Ignorance's aid.

Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar.
Now Laura moves along the joyous crowd,
Smiles in her eyes, and simpers on her lips;
To some she whispers, others speaks aloud,
To some she curtsies, and to some she dips.
Byron's Beppo.
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "no;"
And won't say "yes," and keeps you on and offing
On a lee shore, till it begins to blow;

Then sees your heart wreck'd with an inward

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Would he were fatter:- But I fear him not:
Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I should avoid
So soon as that spare Cassius.

Shaks. Julius Cæsar.
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.
Shaks. Julius Cæsar

Now Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along: Were 't not for laughing I should pity him. Shaks. Henry IV. Part i

Still she strains the aching clasp

That binds her virgin zone;

I know it hurts her, though she looks

As cheerful as she can,

Her waist is larger than her life

For life is but a span.

O. W. Holmes.

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