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17.

POET-POETRY.

A theme well fitted to inspire

The purest frenzy of poetic fire.

JOEL BARLOW.

18. But which deserves the laurel, rhyme or blank?
Which holds on Helicon the highest rank?
Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute
This point, as puzzling as a Chancery suit.

BYRON'S Imitations.

19. Oh how I hate the nerveless, frigid song,
The ceaseless echo of the rhyming throng;
Whose labour'd lines in chilling numbers flow,
To paint a pang the author ne'er can know!

20. Many are poets who have never penn'd Their inspiration.

BYRON.

BYRON.

21. Not a stone on their turf, or a line on their graves, But they live by the verse that immortally saves. BYRON'S Siege of Corinth.

22. In liquid lines, mellifluously bland.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

23. To whom the lyre and laurels have been given,
With all the trophies of triumphant song-
He won them well, and may he wear them long!

BYRON'S Don Juan.

24. Over the harp, from earliest years belov'd,
He threw his fingers hurriedly, and tones
Of melancholy beauty died away,
Upon its strings of sweetness.

25. He touch'd his harp, and nations heard, entranc'd;
As some vast river of unfailing source,
Rapid, exhaustless, deep, his numbers flow'd,
And oped new feelings in the human heart.

POLLOK'S Course of Time.

26. "Tis not the chime and flow of words, that move
In measur'd file, and metrical array :
"T is not the union of returning sounds,
Nor all the pleasing artifice of rhyme,
And quantity, and accent.

J. G. PERCIVAL.

27. He pour'd his heart's full affluence in song, And good and bad went reconcil'd together.

DAWES' Geraldine.

28. As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light
Of nature and of beauty,

Feeding their souls upon the soft, and sweet,
And delicate imaginings of song.

BAILEY'S Festus.

29. Immortal bard! thy name shall be enroll'd
Among the first to claim the poet's crown;
Thy fame the archives of the world unfold,
And future times shall tell of thy renown.

SHERBURNE, on Byron.

30. Where sense with sound, and ease with weight, combine In the pure silver of Pope's ringing line;

Or where the pulse of man beats loud and strong,
In the frank flow of Dryden's lusty song.

31. But it was love that taught me rhyme,
And it was thou that taught me love;
And if I in this idle chime

Of words a useless sluggard prove,
It was thine eyes the habit nurs'd,
And in their light I learn'd it first.

The New Timon.

32. And, long as poetry shall charm mankind, His flowing numbers will admirers find.

C. F. HOFFMAN.

J. T. WATSON.

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33. Whose song gush'd from his heart
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start.

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1. A politician, Proteus-like, must alter
His face and habit; and, like water, seem

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Of the same colour that the vessel is

That doth contain it, varying his form,
With the chameleon, at each object's change.

2. Dull rogues affect the politician's part,

3.

And learn to nod, and smile, and shrug with art;
Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails;
And he, who nothing pays, at taxes rails.

Your politicians

Have evermore a taint of vanity;

As hasty still to show and boast a plot,
As they are greedy to contrive it.

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CONGREVE.

SIR W. DAVENANT.

4. All would be deem'd, e'en from the cradle, fit

To rule in politics, as well as wit;
The grave, the gay, the fopling, and the dunce,
Start up (God bless us !) statesmen all at once!

CHURCHILL.

5. Who's in or out, who moves the grand machine,
Nor stirs my curiosity nor spleen ;
Secrets of state no more I wish to know,
Than secret movements of a puppet-show:
Let but the puppets move, I've my desire,
Unseen the hand that guides the master wire.

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1. How far the little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

2. Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king, he would not, in mine age, Have left me to mine enemies.

SHAKSPEARE.

3. Each must, in virtue, strive for to excel;

SHAKSPEARE.

The man lives twice, who lives the first life well.

HERRICK.

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Like fumes of sacred incense o'er the clouds,
And wafted thence on angels' wings, through ways
Of light to the bright Source of all.

6. For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

CONGREVE.

CONGREVE'S Mourning Bride.

7. Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt;
Surpris'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd;
Yet even that, which mischief meant most harm,
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.

MILTON'S Comus.

8. Then to be good is to be happy; angels
Are happier than mankind, because they're better.

9. He patient show'd us the wise course to steer,
A candid censor, and a friend sincere ;
He taught us how to live; and (Oh! too high
The price of knowledge) taught us how to die.

10.

ROWE.

TICKELL, on the Death of Addison.
Sure the last end

Of the good man is peace! - how calm his exit !
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground,
Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft!

BLAIR'S Grave.

11. What nothing earthly gives or can destroy,
The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy,
Is virtue's prize.

POPE'S Essay on Man.

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