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Yet of manners mild,

And winning every heart, he knew to please,
Nobly to please; while equally he scorn'd
Or adulation to receive, or give.

Thomson

Oh, popular applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms?
The wisest and the best feel urgent need
Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales;
But swell'd into a gust-who then, alas!
With all his canvas set, and inexpert
And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power?
Cowper's Task, b. 2.

Some shout him, and some hang upon his car
To gaze in 's eyes and bless him. Maidens wave
Their 'kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy.
While others not so satisfied unhorse
The gilded equipage, and turning loose
His steeds, usurp a place they well deserve.

POVERTY.

To men

Press'd by their wants, all change is ever welcome.

Ibid.

Ben Jonson's Cataline.

What wretch art thou? whose misery and baseness Hangs on my door; whose hateful whine of woe, Breaks in upon my sorrows, and distracts

My jarring senses with thy beggar's cry?

Rowe's Jane Shore, a. 5, s. 1.

O blissful poverty!

Nature too partial to thy lot, assigns

Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace,

Her real goods; and only mocks the great,

With empty pageantries.

Fenton's Mariamme.

Be honest poverty thy boasted wealth;

So shall thy friendships be sincere, tho' few,
So shall thy sleep be sound, thy waking cheerful.
Havard's Regulus.
Had I the thousand spears which once I led,

I had not thus been silent. But men's wisdom

Is rated by their means.

From the

poor leader Of sixty lances, who seeks words of weight?

Walter Scott's Halidon Hill.

Patricians beg their bitter bread

In narrow streets, and in their shameful need
Make their nobility a plea for pity.

Byron's Doge of Venice, a. 5, s. 3.

Thus, while my joyless minutes tedious flow,
With looks demure, and silent pace, a dun,
Horrible monster! hated by gods and men,
To my aerial citadel ascends:

With vocal heel, thrice thund'ring at my gate,
With hideous accent thrice he calls.

Philip's Splendid Shilling.

What numbers, once in fortune's lap high-fed,
Solicit the cold hand of charity!

To shock us more, solicit it in vain!

Young's Night Thoughts, n. 1.

Sore pierc'd by wintry winds,

How many shrink into the sordid hut

Of cheerless poverty. Thomson's Seasons-Winter.

Sleep seems their only refuge. For alas!
Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd,
And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.

Cowper's Task, b. 4.

But poverty, with most who whimper forth
Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe,
Th' effect of laziness, or sottish waste.

Ibid.

The frugal housewife trembles when she lights
Her scanty stock of brush-wood, blazing clear
But dying soon, like all terrestrial joys.

Cowper's Task, b. 4.

Aye! idleness! the rich folks never fail
To find some reason why the poor deserve
Their miseries!

With a shrug that pleads

"'Tis my necessity!" he stops and speaks, Screwing a smile into his dinnerless face.

Southey.

Rogers's Italy.

PRAISE.

My soul,

Like yours, is open to the charms of praise:
There is no joy beyond it, when the mind
Of him who hears it, can with honest pride
Confess it just, and listen to its music.

Whitehead's Roman Father:

She who only finds her self-esteem
In others' admiration, begs an alms;
Depends on others for her daily food,
And is the very servant of her slaves;
Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour,
O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert,
Which not ennobles, but degrades her state.

Joanna Baillie's Basil, a. 2, s. 4.

What we admire we praise; And when we praise
Advance it into notice, that its worth

Acknowledg'd, others may admire it too.

Cowper's Task, b. 3.

PRAYERS.

O wherefore did God grant me my request,
And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd?
Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt

Our earnest pray'rs, then giv'n with solemn hand
As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind?

Milton's Samson Agonistes.

His pure thoughts were borne

Like fumes of sacred incense o'er the clouds,
And wafted thence on angels' wings, thro' ways

Of light, to the bright source of all.

Congreve's Mourning Bride.

A good man's prayers

Will from the deepest dungeon climb Heaven's height, And bring a blessing down.

Joanna Baillie's Ethwald, pt. 2, a. 4, s. 3.

Oh sad estate

Of human wretchedness! so weak is man,
So ignorant and blind, that did not God
Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask,
We should be ruin'd at our own request.

Hannah More's Moses, pt. 1.

Fountain of mercy! whose pervading eye
Can look within and read what passes there,
Accept my thoughts for thanks; I have no words.
My soul o'erfraught with gratitude, rejects
The aid of language-Lord! behold my heart.

Ibid. b. 3.

Fond of the misery we paint so well,
Proud of the sacrifice of broken hearts,

We pour on Heav'n's dread ear, what man's would

shrink from.

Maturin's Bertram, a. 3, s. 2.

They forthwith to the place
Repairing where he judg'd them, prostrate fell
Before him reverent, and both confess'd
Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.

Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 10.

If by prayer

Incessant I could hope to change the will
Of him who all things can, I would not cease
To weary him with my assiduous cries:
But pray'r against his absolue decree

No more avails than breath against the wind,
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth :
Therefore to his great bidding I submit. Ibid. b. 11.

Sighs now breath'd

Unutterable, which the spirit of prayer

Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight Than loudest oratory.

The few that pray at all pray oft amiss,

And seeking grace t' improve the prize they hold,

Would urge a wiser suit, than asking more.

Ibid.

His comrade too arose,

And with the outward forms

Cowper's Task, b. 6.

Of righteousness and prayer insulted God.

Southey's Thalaba.

PRIDE.

The snarler pride,

Plac'd by a mirror, starts, and barks, and bites

At its own image.

Jeffrey's Edwin.

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