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2

For it is a knell That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

Macbeth. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 63.

16 What, will the line stretch out to the crack of

doom? Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 117.

17 Things at the worst will cease or else climb

upward To what they were before.

Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 24.

3

Unseen hands delay The coming of what oft seems close in ken, And, contrary, the moment, when we say "Twill never come!' comes on us even then. OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lytton)-Thomas

Muntzer to Martin Luther. L. 382. They only fall, that strive to move, Or lose, that care to keep. OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lytton)-Wanderer. Bk. III. Futility. St. 6.

The irrevocable Hand That opes the year's fair gate, doth ope and shut The portals of our earthly destinies; We walk through blindfold, and the noiseless

doors Close after us, forever.

D. M. MUÍOCK-April.

18

4

If he had been as you and you as he,
You would have slipt like him.

Measure for Measure. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 64.

19
A man whom both the waters and the wind,
In that vast tennis-court, hath made the ball
For them to play upon.

Pericles. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 63.

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And all the bustle of departure sometimes sad, sometimes intoxicating—just as fear or hope may be inspired by the new chances of coming destiny. MADAME DE STAËL-Corinne. Bk. X. Ch.

VI.

25

Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn’d to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw! .
Hamlet. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 234.

(See also TENNYSQN)
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Hamlet. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 315.

12
We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,
And good from bad find no partition.

Henry IV. Pt. II. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 194.

And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
TENNYSON-In Memoriam. XVIII. St. 1.

(See also HAMLET)

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26

Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident,
It is the very place God meant for thee;
And should'st thou there small room for action

see,
Do not for this give room for discontent.

ARCHBISHOP TRENCH-Sonnet.

13

27

Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light.

Henry VI. Pt. III. Act II. Sc. 6. L. 1.

Quisque suos patimur manes.

We bear each one our own destiny.
VERGILMÆneid. VI. 743.

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