292

FRUITS-FUNERAL, &c.

22. Sweet lady, wilt thou think of me

When Friendship's flowers are round thee wreathing,
And Love's delirious flattery

Within thy ear is softly breathing?
O, let my friendship, in the wreath,
Though but a bud among the flowers,
Its sweetest fragrance round thee breathe-
'T will serve to soothe thy weary hours.

MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.

23. In after years,-when thou, perchance,
As thoughts of Auld Lang Syne arise,
'Midst other scenes shalt cast a glance
Along these pages, should thine eyes
Rest on this tribute-think of me-
Think kindly, as I shall of thee.

FRUITS. (See FLOWERS.)

J. T. WATSON.

FUNERAL-MOURNING

1. Do not for ever, with thy veiled lids,

Seek for thy noble father in the dust;

WIDOW.

Thou know'st 't is common; all that live, must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

SHAKSFEARE.

2. Why is the hearse with 'scutcheons blazon'd round,
And with the nodding plumes of ostrich crown'd?
No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain;
It only serves to prove the living vain.

GAY'S Trivia.

BARON.

7. They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.

The fools, who flock'd to swell or see the show,
Who cared about the corpse? The funeral
Made the attraction, and the black the woe.

BYRON'S Vision of Judgment.

5. Groans and convulsions, and discolour'd faces,
Friends weeping round us, blacks, and obsequies,
Make death a dreadful thing; the pomp of death
Is far more terrible than death itself.

6. Prone on the lonely grave of the dear man
She drops; whilst busy meddling memory,
In barbarous succession, musters up
The past endearments of their softer hours,
Tenacious of the theme.

NAT. LEE.

BLAIR'S Grave.

7. Thus, day by day, and month by month, we pass'd; It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last.

I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust,

And beat my breasts-as wretched widows must:
Before my face my handkerchief I spread,

To hide the flood of tears I did not shed.

POPE.

8. What though no friends in sable weeds appear,

Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year?

And bear about the mockery of woe

To midnight dances, and the public show!

9. Death's seneschal! 't is thine to trace For each his proper look and place;

How aunts should weep, where uncles stand.

POPE.

With hostile cousins, hand in hand;

Give matchless gloves, and fitly shape

By length of face the length of crape.

HON. N. BIDDLE's Ole to Bogle.

10. See him erect, with lofty tread,

The dark scarf streaming from his head,
Lead forth his groups, in order meet,
And range them grief-wise in the street—
Presiding o'er the solemn show,

The very Chesterfield of woe!

HON. N. BIDDLE's Ode to Bogle.

11. Let widows, anxious to fulfil

(For the first time) the dear man's will,

Lovers and lawyers ill at ease,

For bliss deferr'd, or loss of fees,
Or heirs, impatient of delay,
Chafe inly at his formal stay;

The Bogle heeds not: firm and true,
Resolv'd to give the dead his due,
No jot of honour will he bate,
Nor stir towards the church-yard gate,
Till the last person is at hand,

And every hat has got its band.

HON. N. BIDDLE's Ode to Bogle.

12. Ere death had quite stricken the bloom from her cheek,
Or worn off the smoothness and gloss of her brow,
When our quivering lips her dear name could not speak,
And our hearts vainly strove to God's judgment to bow,
He estrang'd himself from us, and cheerfully then
Sought out a new object, and wedded again.

J. H. BRIGHT.

13. Nature doth mourn for thee. There is no need
For man to strike his plaintive lyre and fail,
As fail he must if he attempts thy praise.

MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY.

FUTURITY.-(See ETERNITY.)

GAMBLING.-(See BETTING.)

GENIUS TALENT.

1. Time, place, and action, may with pains be wrought, But genius must be born, and never can be taught.

DRYDEN.

2. One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit:

3.

Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before,
By vain ambition still to make them more.

POPE'S Essay on Criticism.

Talents angel-bright,

If wanting worth, are shining instruments
In false ambition's hand, to finish faults
Illustrious, and give infamy renown.

YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.

4. I live not like the many of my kind;
Mine is a world of feelings and of fancies;
Fancies, whose rainbow-empire is the mind-
Feelings, that realize their own romances.

Miss L. E. LANDON.

5. For genius swells more strong and clear When close confin'd-like bottled beer.

TRUMBULL'S McFingal.

6. The lamp of genius, tho' by nature lit,
If not protected, prun'd, and fed with care,
Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare.

CARLOS WILCOX.

7. He drew his light from that he was amidst, As doth a lamp from air which hath itself Matter of light, altho' it show it not.

BAILEY'S Festus.

296

GENTLEMAN.

8. Wax to receive, and marble to retain.

BYRON'S Beppo.

9. What made more sad the outward form's decay,

A soul of Genius glimmer'd thro' the clay:
Genius has so much youth no care can kill,
Death seems unnatural when it sighs "Be still."

10. Creative Genius! from thy hand

What shapes of order, beauty, rise,
When waves thy potent, mystic wand
To people ocean, earth and skies!

The New Timon.

J. H. M'ILVANE.

GENTLEMAN.

1. He that bears himself like a gentleman Is worth to have been born a gentleman.

2. Measure not thy carriage by any man's eye,
Thy speech by no man's ear; be resolute
And confident in saying and in doing;
This is the grace of a right gentleman.

3. I read no difference between this huge,

This monstrous big word, lord, and gentleman,
More than the title sounds; for aught I learn,
The latter is as noble as the first:

I'm sure more ancient.

4.

The general voice

Sounds him for courtesy, behaviour, language,

And every fair demeanour, an example:

CHAPMAN.

CHAPMAN.

JOHN FORD.

Titles of honour add not to his worth,

Who is himself an honour to his title.

JOHN FORD.