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3. Could deeds my heart discover, Could valour gain your charms, I'd prove myself a lover

Against a world in arms.

4. A form more active, light and strong,
Ne'er shot the ranks of war along;
The modest, yet the manly mien,
Might grace the court of maiden queen.

CHURCH-CLERGY, &c.

1. Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own road.

2. He could raise scruples dark and nice, And, after, solve 'em in a trice;

As if divinity had catch'd

The itch on purpose to be scratch'd.

Old Song.

SCOTT.

SHAKSPEARE.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

3. The proud he tam'd, the penitent he cheer'd,
Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd;

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought
A living sermon of the truths he taught.

4. At church with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.

DRYDEN.

GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village.

5. Such vast impressions did his sermons make, He always kept his flock awake.

DR. WOLCOT's Peter Pindar.

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6. I venerate the man whose heart is warm,

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrines and whose life
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof

That he is honest in the sacred cause.

7. Some go to church just for a walk,
Some go
there to laugh and talk,
Some go there the time to spend,

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COWPER'S Task.

CIGAR-SMOKING.

1. In mind compos'd, he sucks: thick curling clouds
Of smoke around his reeking temples play.
Joyous he sits, and, impotent of thought,
Puffs away care and sorrow from his heart.

2. Thy quiet spirit lulls the lab'ring brain,

SOMERVILE.

Lures back to thought the flights of vacant mirth;
Consoles the mourner, soothes the couch of pain,
And breathes contentment round the humble hearth;
While savage warriors, soften'd by thy breath,
Unbind the captive Hate had doom'd to death.

3. Yes, social friend, I love thee well,

REV. WALTER COLTON.

In learned doctors' spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.

CHARLES SPrague.

4. Farewell! I've yet one solace left, which cheers my lonely

hearth,

And in that thought a thousand hopes are springing into

birth:

How beautiful the vision comes, amidst life's gath'ring

cares,

In shape-a chainpagne bottle, and a box of fine cigars!
J. C. M'CABE.

CLERGY. (See CHURCH.)

CLOUDS-STORM-WEATHER, &c.

1. The clouds consign their treasures to the fields,
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow,
In large effusion o'er the freshen'd world.

2.

3.

Oh night,

THOMSON'S Seasons.

And storm, and darkness! ye are wondrous strong,

Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light

Of a dark eye in woman. Far along

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

How the giant element,

From rock to rock, leaps with delirious bound!

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

4. The storm howl'd madly o'er the sea,
The clouds their thunder anthems sang,

And billows, rolling fearfully,

In concert with the whirlwind rang.

REV. J. N. Maffit.

128

COMPANY – COMPASSION – CONCEALMENT, &c.

5. How calm, how beautiful comes on

The stilly hour, when storms are gone;
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray,
Melt off, and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity!

MOORE'S Lalla Rookh.

6. In pomp transcendant, rob'd in heav'nly dyes, Arch'd the clear rainbow round the orient skies.

7. Far on the utmost verge of that huge dome, Which rears its ether arch above the world.

DR. DWIGHT.

T. D. ENGLISH.

8. The sky grew darker. Soon came booming on
The deep-voic'd thunder, whilst at distance roll'd
The wild winds' dirge-like, and yet tempest tone;
And lightning's evanescent sheets of gold
Burst, in their anger, from the cloud's huge fold.
T. D. ENGLISH.

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1. A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon

Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.

SHAKSPEARE.

2.

3.

She never told her love;

But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,

Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,
And sat, like Patience on a monument,

Smiling at grief.

I will believe

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;

And so far will I trust thee.

4.

A secret in his mouth

SHAKSPEARE.

SHAKSPEARE.

Is like a wild bird put into a cage,
Whose door no sooner opens, but 't is out.

5. What torment's equal to the grief of mind,
And pining anguish hid in gentle heart,
That inly feeds itself with thought unkind,
And nourishes its own consuming smart?

BEN JONSON.

SPENSER'S Fairy Queen.

6. Search not to find what lies too deeply hid; Nor to know things whose knowledge is forbid.

7. I have a silent sorrow here, A grief I'll ne'er impart;

It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear,

Yet it consumes my heart.

8. And if she met him, tho' she smil'd no more, She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile,

DENHAM.

SHERIDAN.

As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store,
She must not own, but cherish'd more the while.
BYRON'S Don Juan.

9. In that corroding secresy, which gnaws

The heart to show the effect, but not the cause.

BYRON'S Lara.

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