She that would raise a noble love, must find She must be that which she to be would seem; To Lucasta, on going to the Wars. Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, True, a new mistress now I chase, And with a stronger faith embrace + Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; BUCKINGHAM. I could not love thee, Dear, so much, LET me not to the marriage of true minds Which alters when it alteration finds; Or bends with the remover to remove : LOVELACE. * As amber attracts a straw, so does beauty admiration, which only lasts while the warmth continues; but virtue, wisdom, goodness, and real worth, like the loadstone, never lose their power. These are the true graces, which, as Homer feigns, are linked and tied hand in hand, because it is by their influence that human hearts are so firmly united to each other. BURTON. Anatomy. † Love's an heroic passion, which can find DRYDEN. Love is a secondary passion in those who love most, a primary in those who love least. He who is inspired by it in a great degree, is inspired by honour in a greater. LANDOR. Conversations between Roger Ascham and Lady Jane Grey. N O no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; It is a star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out e'en to the edge of doom. O POORTITH Cauld, and restless love, Yet poortith a' I could forgive O why should fate sic pleasure have, This warld's wealth, when I think on That he should be the slave o't! Her een sae bonnie blue betray O wha can prudence think upon, O wha can prudence think upon, How blest the humble cotter's fate! He woos his simple dearie; The silly bogles, wealth and state, O why should fate sic pleasure have, &c., &c. BURNS. HE's past; a soul of nobler tone: He mixing with his proper sphere, She sighs amid her narrow days TENNYSON. In Memoriam. FOR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove And when we meet a mutual heart Bid us sigh on from day to day, But busy, busy still art thou, L'AMOUR TIMIDE. Ir in that breast so good, so pure, Compassion ever lov'd to dwell, Pity the sorrows I endure; The cause-I must not, dare not tell. The grief that on my quiet preys― THOMSON. That rends my heart-that checks my tongue I fear will last me all my days, But feel it will not last me long. SIR JOHN H. MOORE. Viola. My father had a daughter loved a man, Duke. And what's her history? And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Twelfth Night, Act II., Scene 4. LOVE me not for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face; Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart; For those may fail, or turn to ill, And thus we love shall sever: Keep, therefore, a true woman's eye, And love me still, Yet know not why, So hast thou the same reason still To doat upon me ever. WILBYE. Madrigals. Olivia. OH! what a deal of scorn looks beautiful A murderous guilt shows not itself more soont Twelfth Night, Act II. * Alas! to seize the moment If man comes not to gather BRYANT. †There is no disguise which can long conceal love when it does, or feign it when it does not, exist. ROCHEFOUCAULD. Indamora. LovE is an airy good opinion makes: That tricks and dresses up the gaudy dream; DRYDEN. Aurenge-Zebe, Act I. Love various minds does variously inspire; DRYDEN. FOR never yet was wight so well aware, Faëry Queen, Book V., Canto 6. O SUBTLE Love, a thousand wiles thou hast, To win a maiden's heart, a thing soon done; FAIRFAX. Tasso, Book II. BUT wayward beauty does not fancy move; Ibid, Book II. NE may Love be compeld by maistery; Faery Queen, Book III., Canto 1. HER faults he knew not, Love is always blind, |