THE GLORY OF FORGIVING. ROWE. The narrow soul Knows not the glory of forgiving ; Nor can the cold, the ruthless heart conceive, FRIENDSHIP. CATHARINE PHILIPS. Friendship's an abstract of Love's noble flame, And is a heaven in epitomy. SUPREMACY OF MERCY. ROWE. "Tis Mercy! Mercy! The mark of heaven impressed on human kind, Mercy that glads the world, deals joy around, Mercy that smoths the dreadful bro w of power, And makes dominion light: Mercy that saves Binds up the broken heart, and heals despai APOSTROPHE TO MERCY. SOMERVILLE. O Mercy, heavenly boon! sweet attribute! Thou great, thou best prerogative of power! Justice may guard the throne, but joined with thee, On rocks of adamant, it stands secure, And braves the storm beneath. THE PLEASURE OF MERCY. WALLER. Less pleasure take brave hearts in battle won MERCY ETERNAL. MILTON. In Mercy and in Justice both Through heaven and earth, so shall my glory excel, But Mercy first and last shall brightest shine. THE EXCELLENCE OF MERCY.. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. The greatest attribute of heaven is Mercy ; MERCY IS HEAVENLY. DAVENANT. O think! think upward on the thrones above; THE RAPTURE OF BENEFICENCE. THOMSON. But to the generous still improving mind, Boastless, as now descends the silent dew; Is inward rapture only to be felt. POWER OF LOVE. TUPPER. I had a seeming friend,-I gave him gifts, and he was gone, I had an open enemy ;-I gave him gifts, and won him ; Common friendship standeth on equalities and cannot bear a debt; But the very heart of hate melteth at a good man's love, IT IS EASY TO FORGIVE. THOMSON. 'Tis easier for the generous to forgive, Than for offence to ask it. TRUE GREATNESS. ROWE. Great minds, like heaven, are pleased in doing good, LOVE OMNIPOTENT. SHAKSPEARE. Things base and vile, holding no quality, APOSTROPHE TO LOVE. MOORE. Blest infant of eternity! Before the day-star learned to move, From his rich quiver to the farthest sphere, Nestling beneath the wings of ancient night Whose horrors seemed to smile in shadowing thee! THE NOBLEST MINSTRELSY. MOORE. Though War's high-sounding harp may be Are bathed, all o'er, with tears. How far more sweet their numbers run NOBILITY OF KINDNESS BYRON. The drying up a single tear has more WONDERS OF LOVE. FATTERSON. Almighty Love! what wonders are not thine .The rude grow tender, and the fearful bold. |