A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

(avery) #1
fO&Ma OJ' B.ULEIO'l'lOlf .AJrJl Uli'I'UUUIT. 177

«ontJwiou.
TID aweeteet 'foioe
That warblea in the grove, a not ao aweet
Aa thine, Compauion--nor the boldea~ deed
Of bero'a arm BO WOrthy of the lyra
Aa act of Mercy ; nor, in all the round
Of beinff, i.e there aught in God'a \lure eye,
So bleu d, ao aancti.lit~d as thoee k~nd tbougbta
That stir the boeom of Benevolence.
Wltat are the joya of Heaven but those of Love f
What God's own bliBB '#-The bliaa of doing good
Unlimited and perfect! DBOK.KOND.

l!ttub.triUIU.
Tua bath, my lord, a wallet at hia back,
Wberein be puts alma !or oblivion,
A great,ai.zed monater of ingrat.hudt~'a;
Thoae acrape are good deeda put, which are devour'd
Aa faet aa they are made, forgot. u eoon
Aa done. Perseverance, dear my lord,
Xeepa honour bright; to hAVe donl', ia to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail,
In monwnental mockery. Take the instant way,
For honour travo:le' in a 11tro.it 110 narrnw 1
Where one uut goea abreast. Keep then the path ;
For emulation hath a thousand Bona,
That one by one pursue; if you give way,
Or hedge aside U'OIIl the direct fot•thright.,
Like to an enter 'd tide, they all ruab by,
And leave you hindmost.
Or, like A gallant horae, fallen iu first rank,
Lie there for puvement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on: then wha~ they do in present,
Thou~th leu tiJ&n youn in past, moat o'ertop youra;
For t1me ia like a fashionable hoet,
That aliHhtlr ebakea hie parting gueat by the hand,
And with bus arme outatretch'd, aa be would dy,
G1'8.8p9 in the comer: welcome ever smiles,
And f!lrewell goea out sighing. ObI let not virtue atek
Remuneration for the thing it waa; for benuty, wit,
High birth, vi$our of bone, desert in 8'ervice,
Love, friendahlp, charity, are eubjecla all
To e.uvioua 11nd caluil.Uliating tiwe. So..t.Xlr.8l'JtA..a&.
lf

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