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May pure contents
For ever pitch their tents
Which we may every year
A day with not too bright a beam,
A warm but not a scorching sun,
And, master, half our work is done.
The scaly people to betray,
To make the preying trout our prey.
Happier than those, though not so high,
Of meaner men the smaller fry.— Izaak Walton.
The morning is beaming,
Its first light is streaming,
And soon will it brighten
Those dark cliffs, and lighten
When it comes they will get up,
Their sails they will set up,
Then follow their calling
of fishing, or trawling
“Pity but he were a king." Shukspere. Of all wild beasts preserve me from a tyrant; Of all tame—a flatterer.
Ben Jonson. Give me flattery; Flattery the food of courts, that I may rock him, And lull him in the down of his desires.
Learn to win a lady's faith,
Nobly as the thing is high;
With a loyal gravity:
Point her to the starry skies,
E. B. Browning.
Walter S. Landor. In Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic.language bears; Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers, And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers.
Percival. Flowers are love's truest language.—Park Benjamin.
And then I love the field-flowers too,
Because they are a blessing given
That wanders 'neath the vault of heaven.
And to that few belong alone;
FOOL-FOLLY. As I do live by food, I met a fool, Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun, Who rail'd on lady fortune in good terms, In good set terms—and yet a motley fool.
Shakspere. He, whom a fool doth very wisely hit, Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squandering glances of the fool.
Shakspere. This fellow 's wise enough to play the fool, And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
Shakspere. As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker e'er it blow, Even so, by love, the young and tender wit Is turned to folly.
Shakspere. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Pope. . Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, A fool in fashion, but a fool that's out; His passion for absurdity's so strong, He cannot bear a rival in the wrong. Though wrong the mode, comply: more sense is shown In wearing others' follies than our own.
Young. 'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool, And scarce in human wisdom to do more.
Folly, as it grows in years,
For wise men are grown foppish;
Their manners are so apish. Shakspere.
Pope. Fops take a world of pains To prove that bodies may exist sans brains; The former so fantastically dress’d, The latter's absence may be safely guess'd.
TRUE nobleness would
The punishment for human sin;
And his eternal joy to win,