And while in peace abiding Within a shelter'd home, We fee. as sin and evil

Could never, never come; But let the strong temptation rise, As whirlwinds sweep the sea — We find no strength to 'scape the wreck,

Save, pitying God, in Thee!

Mrs. Hale's Alice Ray.

THIEVES.

Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves.

Shaks. Mea. for Mea. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that; You take my house, when you do take the prop 'That doth sustain my house: you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live. Shaks. Merchant of Venice.

I'll example you with thievery, The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale face she snatches from the sun; The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power

Rather than render back, out with your knives,

To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Wordsworth,

Who can mistake great thoughts?

They seize upon the mind; arrest, and search,
And shake it; bow the tall soul as by the wind;
Rush over it like rivers over reeds,
Which quiver in the current; turn us cold,
And pale, and voiceless; leaving in the brain
A rocking and a ringing, glorious,
But momentary; madness might it last,
And close the soul with Heaven as with a seal.
Bailey's Festus,

Not a single path

steal!

Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law.

Bailey's Festus.

So truly, faithfully, my heart is thine,

Dear Thought, that when I am debarr'd from

thee,

By the vain tumult of vain company; And when it seems to be the fix'd design Of heedless hearts, who never can incline

Themselves to seek thy rich, though hidder. charms,

To keep me daily from thy outstretch'd armsMy soul sinks faint within me, and I pine As lover pines when from his love apart; For thou 'rt the honour'd mistress of my heart, Pure, quiet, beautiful, beloved Thought! Caroline May,

And they drift so strange and swift,

There's no time for choosing

Which to follow, for to leave

Any, seems a losing.

Thoughts of my soul, how swift ye go!
Swift as the eagle's glance of fire,

Or arrows from the archer's bow,

To the far aim of your desire! Thought after thought, ye thronging rise, Like spring-doves from the startled wood, Bearing like them your sacrifice

Of music unto God!

Whittier's Poems.

The car without horses, the car without wings,

Roars onward and flies

On its pale iron edge,

'Neath the heat of a thought sitting still in our eyes. Miss Barrett's Poems. As streams the lightning o'er a stormy sky, Thus Thought amid the tumult flashes forth! For mighty minds at rest too often lie, Like clouds in upper air, cold, calm and high,

Till, tempest-toss'd and driven toward the earth, They meet the uprising mass, - and then is wrought

---

The burning thunderbolt of human Thought,

That sends the living light of Truth abroad, And dashes down the towers of Force and Fraud, And awes the trembling world like oracle of

God!

Mrs. Hale.

Thoughts flit and flutter through the mind,

As o'er the waves the shifting wind;

Trackless and traceless is their flight,

As falling stars of yesternight,
Or the old tide-marks on the shore,
Which other tides have rippled o'er.

Dr. Bowring.
Stay, winged Thought! I fain would question thee!
Though thy bright pinion is less palpable
Than filmy gossamer, more swift in flight
Than light's transmitted ray.

Mrs. Sigourney.

THREATENING. Hence,

Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
Like balls before me; I'll unchain thy head;
Thou shalt be whipt with wire, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in ling'ring pickle.

Shaks. Antony and Cleopatra.
Hence, begone: -

But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet.

If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Shaks. Tempest.
If thou more murm'rest, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Shaks. Tempest.

Unhand mc, gentlemen; By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me. Shaks. Hamlet.

Leave wringing of your hands: peace; sit you

down,
If it be made of penetrable stuff;
And let me wring your heart: for so I shall,

If damned custom hath not braz'd it so,
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.
Shaks. Humiet
He that stirs next to carve forth his own rage,
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
Shaks, Othello
Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Shaks. Richard II;

I'll note you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this reprehension;
Look to it well, and say you are well warn'd.
Shaks. Henry VI. Part I.
Inmanner'd dog! stand thou when I command:
Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
Shaks. Richard III.

Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
Tengross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
Shaks. Henry IV. Part I.
Back to thy punishment,

False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue
Thy ling'ring.

Milton's Paradise Lost.

Do me justice,

TIME.

Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of blood, Shall make this dwelling horrible to nature.

Otway's Orphan.

Oh! wert thou young again, I would put off
My majesty to be more terrible;

That like an angel I might strike this harc,
Trembling on earth! shake thee to dust, and

tear

Thy heart for this bold lie, thou feeble dotard.
Lee's Alexander.
Speak then, or I will tear thee limb from limb:
Thou shalt be safe, if thou confess the truth;
But if thou hide aught from me, I will rack thee,
Till with thy horrid groans thou wake the dead:
Or I will cut thee to anatomy,

And search through all thy veins to find it out.
Lee's Cæsar Borgia.
Old as I am, and quench'd with scars and sor-

rows,

Yet could I make this wither'd arm do wonders,
And open in an enemy such wounds,
Mercy would weep to look on.

Rochester's Valentinian.

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,

A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes:
Those scraps are good deeds past: which are

devour'd

As fast as they are made, forgotten as soon
As done.

Shaks. Troilus and Cressida.

I bring the truth to light, detect the ill;
My native greatness scorneth bounded ways;
Untimely power, a few days ruin will;
Yea, worth itself falls, till I list to raise.
The earth is mine; of earthly things the care
I leave to men that, like them, earthly are.
Lord Brooke's Mustapha.

Even such is time, that takes on trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wander'd all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days!

Time is the feather'd thing, And, whilst I praise

Sir W. Kaleigh,

The sparkling of thy locks, and call them rays,

Byron.

Where

On! on our moments hurry by,
Like shadows of a passing cloud,
Till general darkness wraps the sky,
And man sleeps senseless in his shroud.
He sports, he trifles time away,
Till time is his to waste no more:
Heedless he hears the surges play;
And then is dash'd upon the shore
He has no thought of coming days,
Though they alone deserve his thought,
And so the heedless wanderer strays,
And treasures nought and gathers nought.
Though wisdom speak - his ear is dull;
Though virtue smile- he sees her not;
His cup of vanity is full;

And all besides foregone-forgot.

Time rolls his ceaseless course.

Byron.

Bowring. The race of yore,

Who danc'd our infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legend's store,
Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea,
How are they blotted from the things that be!
How few, all weak and wither'd of their force,
Wait on the verge of dark eternity,

That speeds thy winged feet so fast; Thy pleasures stay not till they pall, And all thy pains are quickly past.

Bryant's Poems.

Art is long and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

Longfellow's Psalm of Life. There is no charm in time as time, nor good: The long days are no happier than the short ones. Bailey's Festus, Time! Time! in thy triumphal flight

How all life's phantom's fleet away! The smile of hope and young delight,

Fame's meteor beam, and fancy's ray; They fade; and on the heaving tide,

Rolling its stormy waves afar, Are borne the wreck of human pride, The broken wreck of Fortune's war. James G. Brooks.

The hours are viewless angels, That still go gliding by,

To sweep them from our sight

To Him who sits on high.

Scott.

C. P Cranch