And evermore the waters worship God;
And bards and prophets tune their mystic lyres
While listening to the music of the waves!

Mrs. Hale's Poems.

Type of the Infinite! I look away
Over thy billows, and I cannot stay
My thought upon a resting-place, or make
A shore beyond my vision, where they break;
But on my spirit stretches, till it's pain
To think; then rests, and then puts forth again.
Dana's Factitious Life.
Oh! how old

roll'd;

Before an ear did hear thee, thou didst mourn,
Prophet of sorrow, o'er a race unborn;
Waiting, thou mighty minister of death,
Lonely thy work, ere man had drawn his breath!
Dana's Factitious Life.

Thou art the same, eternal sea!
The earth hath many shapes and forms,
Of hill and valley, flower and tree;
Fields that the fervid noontide warms,
Or winter's rugged grasp deforms,
Or bright with autumn's golden store;
Thou coverest up thy face with storms,
Or smil'st serene - but still thy roar
And dashing foam go up to vex the sea-beat shore.
George Lunt.

The occan looketh up to heaven,

As 't were a living thing;
The homage of its waves is given
In ceaseless worshipping.
They kneel upon the sloping sand,
As bends the human knee,

A beautiful and tireless band,
The priesthood of the sea!

Whittier's Poems.

And shut myself up in some other course, To fortune's alms.

Shaks. Othella.

In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Shaks. Julius Cæsar.
For well you know we of th' offending side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrament:
And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

Shaks. Henry IV. Part I.
What is my offence?

Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? What lawful quest have given their verdict up Unto the frowning judge?

Shaks. Richard III. He hath wrong'd his queen, but still he is her lord; He hath wrong'd my sister, still he is my brother; He hath wrong'd his people, still he is their sove

J. R. Lowell - The Syrens.

Shaks. Coriolanus.

Why, look around, And count, if possible, the pamper'd numbers Who fatten on the state: they are the men, Who, if they find a man too honourable To be a fellow-gleaner of the spoils, When faction's sickle sweeps the public wealth, Lift up their angry voices to the crowd And breathe around their pestilential breath, Till virtue's self is tainted by the touch. Dawes's Athenia of Damascus. They who bend to Power, and lap its milk, Are fickler and more dangerous far than they Who honestly defy it!

Boker's Calaynos.

OPINION.

Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man.

Shaks. Pericles.

Opinion, the blind goddess of fools, foe To the virtuous, and only friend to Undeserving persons.

That with a venomous contagion,
Invades the sick imagination;
And when it seizes any part,
It strikes the poison to the heart.

By contact, as the humours match;
And nothing 's so perverse in nature
As a profound opinionator.

This men of one another catch

380

Butler's Hudibras

How can you rest where pow'r is still alarm'd:
Each crowd a faction, and each faction arm'd?
Who fashions of opinion love to change,
And think their own the best for being strange;
Their own, if it were lasting, they would hate;
Yet call it conscience when 't is obstinate.
Sir W. Davenant.

We all, my lords, have err'd.
Men may, I find, be honest, though they differ.
Thomson's Tancred and Sigismunda.

For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh,
Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn.
Thomson's Seasons.
How much there is self-will would do,
Were it not for the dire dismay
That bids ye shrink, as ye suddenly think
Of "what will my neighbours say?"

Miss Eliza Cook.

He lov'd his kind, but sought the love of few,
And valued old opinions more than new.
Park Benjamin.

Yet in opinions look not always back;

Let not opinion make thy judgment err; The evening conquest crowns the conqueror.

O. W. Holines

There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flow, leads on to fortune,
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves
Or lose our ventures.

Shaks. Julius Cæsar

A little fire is quickly trodden out;
Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

Shaks. Henry VI. Part III.

Our hands are full of business; let's away;
Advantage feeds them fat, while men delay.

Shaks. Henry IV. Part I.

The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd,
And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,
The proffer'd means of succour and redress.
Shaks. Richard II.

Occasion, set on wing, flies fast away,
Whose back once turned, no hold-fast can we

find;

Her feet are swift, bald is her head behind:
Whoso hath hold, and after lets her go,
Doth lose the lot which fortune did bestow.

Mirror for Magistrates. Opportunity to statesmen, is as the just degree Of heat to chymists; it perfects all the work. Suckling's Brennoralt.

The old Scythians Painted blind fortune's powerful hands with wings, To show her gifts come swift and suddenly, Which, if her fav'rite be not swift to take, He loses them for ever.

Chapman's Busy D'Ambois.
Accursed opportunity!

The midwife and the bawd to all our vices:
That work'st our thoughts into desires: desires
To resolutions: and these being ripe and quicken'd,
Thou giv'st 'em birth, and bring'st 'em forth to
action.

Denham's Sophy.

Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take
'That subtle Power, the never-halting time,
Lest a mere moment's putting-off should make
Mischance almost as heavy as a crime.

Wordsworth.

The golden opportunity Is never offer'd twice, seize then the hour When fortune smiles and duty points the way;Nor shrink aside to 'scape the spectre Fear,Nor pause though pleasure beckon from her

bower;

But bravely bear thee onward to the goal.

Old Play.

OPPRESSION.-(See TYRANNY.)

ORATOR.

In

Pope

With studied impropriety of speech,
He soars beyond the hackney critic's reach;
To epithets allots emphatic state,
Whilst principles ungrac'd, like lacquies wait;
ways first trodden by himself excels,
And stands alone in undeclinables;
Conjunction, preposition, adverb join
To stamp new vigour on the nervous line;
In monosyllables his thunders roll,
He, she, it, and we, ye, they, fright the soul.
Churchill's Rosciad.
Statesman all over! in plots famous grown!
He mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone.
Churchill's Rosciad
While words of learned length, and thund'ring
sound,

Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around;
And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew
That one small head should carry all he knew.
Goldsmith's Deserted Village.

Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,
And thought of convincing, while they thought
of dining.
Goldsmith's Retaliation.
So quick the words too, when he deign'd to speak,
As if each syllable would break its neck.

Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar.

Proud of his "hear hims," proud too of his vote And last virginity of oratory,

Proud of his learning (just enough to quote), He revell'd in his Ciceronian glory: With memory excellent to get by rote, With wit to hatch a pun or tell a story, Graced with some merit and with more effrontery, "His country's pride;" he came down to the country.

Byron.

His speech was a fine sample, on the whole,

PARASITE.

391

Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life: But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience

PARENTS.

Our pains are real things, and all
Our pleasures but fantastical;
Diseases of their own accord,
But cures come difficult and hard.

Butler's Hudibras.
Thee, too, my Paridel! she mark'd thee there,
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess
The pains and penalties of idleness.

Again the play of pain

Shoots o'er his features as the sudden gust Crisps the reluctant lake, that lay so calm Beneath the mountain shadow.

Pope.

Byron.

They talk of short-liv'd pleasure—be it so-
Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featur'd pain
Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go.
The fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

Bryant's Poems.

Parents are o'erseen,

When, with too strict a rein, they do hold in Their child's affections; and control that love, Which the powers divine instruct them with: When in their shallow judgments, they may know Affection cross'd, brings misery and woe.

Robert Taylour's Hog hath lost its Pearl. Fathers their children, and themselves abuse; That wealth, a husband, for their daughters choose. Shirley's School of Compliments

Honour thy parents to prolong thine end;
With them, though for a truth, do not contend:
Though all should truth defend, do thou lose rather
The truth awhile, than lose their love for ever:
Whoever makes his father's heart to bleed,
Shall have a child that will revenge the deed.
Randolph