Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
Much Ado About Nothing. Act II.
Sc. 1. L. 186.
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.
q.
Love's Labour's Lost. Act II. Sc.1.
L. 15.
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass that's broken presently;
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. 7. The Passionate Pilgrim. St. 13.
Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not,
But heavenly pourtraict of bright angels' hew,
Cleare as the skye withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew.
i. SPENSER-Faerie Queene. Canto III.
St. 22.
They seemed to whisper: "How handsome she is!
What wavy tresses! what sweet perfume!
Under her mantle she hides her wings;
Her flower of a bonnet is just in bloom.”
j. E. C. STEDMAN-Translation. Jean
Prouvaire's Song at the Barricade.
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.
p.
THOMSON-The Seasons. Autumn.
L. 204.
Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self.
q. THOMSON-The Seasons. Autumn.
L. 209.
All the beauty of the world,'tis but skin deep. r. RALPH VENNING-Orthodoxe Paradoxes (Third Edition, 1650). The Triumph of Assurance. P. 41. The yielding marble of her snowy breast. 8. EDMUND WALLER-On a Lady Passing through a Crowd of People.
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive, though a happy place.
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair,
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair,
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn.
WORDSWORTH-She was a Phantom of
FATHER PROUT (Francis Mahony).
The Bells of Shandon.
That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy. SAMUEL ROGERS-Human Life. L. 517.
And this be the vocation fit,
For which the founder fashioned it:
High, high above earth's life, earth's labor
E'en to the heaven's blue vault to soar.
To hover as the thunder's neighbor,
The very firmament explore.
To be a voice as from above
Like yonder stars so bright and clear,
That praise their Maker as they move,
And usher in the circling year.
Tun'd be its metal mouth alone
To things eternal and sublime.
And as the swift wing'd hours speed on
May it record the flight of time!
SCHILLER-Song of the Bell.
|