Life's little stage is a small eminence, Young, N. T. 11. 361. Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour? 16. IV. 97. Our birth is nothing but our death begun; Vain man! to be so fond of breathing long, Young, N. T. Young, N. T. 1b. N. T. That life is long which answers life's great end. Ib. v. 773. Young. Life is a trifle we must shortly pay, And where's the mighty lucre of a day? The days of life are sisters, all alike; None just the same, which serve to fool us on While jou joy is like to-morrow, still to come, Nor ends the fruitless chase but in the grave. Young, Broth. 1. Along the cool sequester'd vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Gray, Elegy 20. To each his sufferings: all are men Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own. Gray, Eton College. By day or night, In florid youth, or mellow age, scarce fleets Oft bears substantial woe. Smollet, Regicide. Reflect that life, like every other blessing, Derives its value from its use alone; Not for itself, but for a nobler end, Th' eternal gave it, and that end is virtue. Ib. Irene, III. 8. Year chases year, decay pursues decay, Still drops some joy from wi withering life away ; New forms arise, and different views engage, Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage, Till pitying nature signs the last release, And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. Ib. Van. H. IV. 305. In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, Enlarge my life with multitude of days In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays: That life protracted is protracted woe. Ib. Van. H. W. 255. The tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground: The greatest love of life appears. Mrs. Piozzi, The Three Warnings. : LIFE-continued. Men deal with life as children with their play, In such a world, so thorny, and where none And sympathize with others, suffering more. Ib. Task, IV. 333. How readily we wish time spent revoked, We miss'd that happiness we might have found. Ib. vI. 25. Well, well-the world must turn upon its axis, Fighting, devotion, dust-perhaps a name. Byron, D. J. 1. 4. 'Tis very certain the desire of life Prolongs it, this is obvious to physicians, 16. 11. 64. There still are many Rainbows in your sky, Between two worlds, life hovers like a star Byron, D. J. XV. 99. LIFE. 828 LIFE-continued. My days, though few, have pass'd below Yet still, in hours of love or strife, I've 'scaped the weariness of life. How short is human life! the very breath Byron. Which frames my words, accelerates my death. Han. More. What is life ? A gulf of troubled waters-where the soul, Like a vex'd bark, is toss'd upon the waves What makes the happiest life below, A constant fire within your grate : L. E. Landon. Friends equal both in years and fame. Martialx.47, (Merivale.) All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest. Moore, National Airs. Oh! life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns. Moore, O think not my Spirit.' For the soul is dead that slumbers, Life is real, life is earnest; And things are not what they seem. Longfellow, Psalm of Life. And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest; Was not spoken of the soul. Longfellow. 324 LIFE-continued. LIFE-LIGHT. What different lots our stars accord! This babe to be hail'd and woo'd as a lord! And that to be shunn'd like a leper! One, to the world's wine, honey, and corn, Another, like Colchester-native, born To its vinegar only and pepper. Hood, Miss Kilmansegg. We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best. Baily, Fest. If life be heavy on your hands, Are there no beggars at your gate, Nor any poor about your lands? And let your selfish sorrow go. Tennyson. Life-what is life? but the immediate breath we draw: Nor have we surety for a second gale. A frail and fickle tenement it is; Which, like the brittle glass that measures time, Is broke e'er half its sands are run. LIGHT. Notes and Queries, Dec. 19th, 1863. Hail, holy light! offspring of heaven first-born! Or of th' Eternal coeternal beam, May I express thee, unblam'd? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence incrcate. Milton, P.L.1.1. Let there be light! God said, and forthwith light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, Sprung from the deep; and, from her native east, To journey through the airy gloom began, Spher'd in a radiant cloud. Milton, P. L. VII. 214. Before the sun, Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God as with a mantle didst invest The rising world of waters deep and dark, Won from the void of formless infinite. Milton, P. L. III. 8. Our souls have holy light within, And every form of grief and sin Shall see and feel its fire. Ebenezer Elliott. |