Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy:

This wide and universal theatre

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play it.

This earthly world; where to do harm

Is often laudable; to do good, sometimes
Accounted dangerous folly.

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Sh. As Y. L. 11. 7.

Sh. Macb. 2,

Fie on't! oh, fie! it is an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely.

The world contains

Princes for arms, and counsellors for brains,

Sh. Ham. 1. 2.

Lawyers for tongues, divines for hearts, and more,
The rich for stomachs, and for backs the poor;
The officers for hands, merchants for feet,

By which remote and distant countries meet.
There was an ancient sage philosopher,
That had read Alexander Ross over,
And swore the world, as he could prove,
Was made of fighting and of love.

Dunne.

Butler, Hud. 1. 2, 1.

The world's a wood, in which all lose their way,
Though by a different path each goes astray. Buckingham.
Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend;
The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.
E'en kings but play; and when their part is done,
Some other, worse or better, mounts the throne.

Dryden, Palamon and Arcite, III. 897.
Truth, modesty, and shame, the world forsook,
Fraud, avarice, and force their places took.

What is this world?-A term which men have got,

To signify not one in ten knows what;

A term, which with no more precision passes

To point out herds of men than herds of asses;

In common use no more it means, we find,

Dryden.

Than many fools in same opinions joined. Churchill, Ni. 353. What is this world? Thy school, O misery!

Our only lesson is to learn to suffer,

And he who knows not that, was born for nothing.

Young, Revenge, 2. 1.

Let not the cooings of the world allure thee;

Which of her lovers ever found her true? Young, N. T.vin1.1272.

WORLD-continued.

WORLD.

The world is a well-furnish'd table,
Where guests are promiscuously set:
Where all fare as well as they're able,
And scramble for what they can get.
The world is a bundle of hay,
Mankind are the asses who pull;
Each tugs it a different way,

And the greatest of all is John Bull.
How beautiful is all this visible world!
How glorious in its action and itself!

711

Bickerstaff.

Byron, Epigram.

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we,
Half dust, half deity, alike unfit

To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make

A conflict of its elements, and breathe

A breath of degradation and of pride,

Contending with low wants and lofty will,
Till our mortality predominates,

And men are-what they name not to themselves,
And trust not to each other.

Byron, Manfred, 1. 2.

Well-well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay the taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,

A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,

Fighting, devotion, dust,-perhaps a name. Byron, D. J. 11. 4. This same world of ours;

'Tis but a pool amid a storm of rain,

And we the air bladders that course up and down,

And joust and tilt in every tournament;

And when one bubble runs foul of another,

The weaker needs must break.

S. T. Coleridge.

This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;

The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-

There's nothing true but Heaven.

T. Moore, The World is all a Fleeting Show

'Tis a very good world that we live in,
To lend, or to spend, or to give in,
But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own,
'Tis the very worst world that ever was known.

Old Song.

712

WORLD-WRITERS, WRITING.

WORLD-continued.

O world! so few the years we live,

Would that the life which thou dost give

Were life indeed!

Alas! thy sorrows fall so fast,

Our happiest hour is when at last

The soul is freed.

Longfellow, Translations.

The world is just as hollow as an egg-shell,
It is a surface not a solid, round;

And all this boasted knowledge of the world
To me seems but to mean acquaintance with
Low things, or evil, or indifferent.

WORMS.

Bailey, Festus.

A man may fish with a worm that hath eat of a king.

WORSHIP-see Devotion, Prayer.

First worship God; he that forgets to pray,

Sh. Ham. IV. 3.

Bids not himself good-morrow, nor good-day. T. Randolph. WORTH, WORTHINESS-see Courage, Misery, Poverty.

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow;

The rest is all but leather or prunella. Pope, E. M. Iv. 203.

To hide true worth from public view,
Is burying diamonds in their mine;
All is not gold that shines, 'tis true:
But all that is gold-ought to shine.

WRATH I-see Anger, Passion, Rage.

S. Bishop.

Come not within the measure of my wrath. Sh. Two G. v. 4. WRETCH.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man.

WRINKLES-see Age.

Sh. Com. of Er. v. 1.

Fled are the charms that grac'd that ivory brow,
Where smil'd a dimple, gapes a wrinkle now.

Robert Treat Paine (Am.).

WRITERS, WRITING-see Authorship, Criticism, Poetry.
Sound judgment is the ground of writing well,
And when philosophy directs your choice,
To proper subjects richly understood,
Words from the pen will naturally flow.

Roscommon, from Horace.

'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing or in judging ill.

Pope, E. C. 1.

You write with ease to show your breeding,
But easy writing's curs'd hard reading. Sheridan, Clio's Prot.

YEARS-YOUTH.

YEARS see Time.

Jumping o'er time,

713

Turning the accomplishments of many years
Into an hour-glass.

Sh. Hen. V. I. 1, Chorus.

Years following years, steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.

Pope, Imit. of Hor. 2. 11. 72.

Years steal

Fire from the mind, as vigour from the limb;

And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

YEOMEN.

And you, good yeomen,

Byron, Ch. H. III. 8.

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,

That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

YES AND NO.

Yes, I answered you last night;

No, this morning, sir, I say:
Colours seen by candle-light

Will not look the same by day.

YEW-TREE.

Sh. Hen. V. III. 1.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lady's Yes.

Cheerless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell
'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms:
Where light-heel'd ghosts, and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports)
Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds.
No other merriment, dull tree! is thine.
YOUTH-see Age, Childhood, Disparity, Education, Flogging, Home.
For youth no less becomes

The light and careless livery that it wears,
Than settled age his sables, and his weeds
Importing health and graveness.

That age
When youth and blood are warmer;
But, being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

is best which is the first,

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:

For, having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

Blair, Grave, 22.

Sh. Ham. IV. 7.

Herrick, Amatory Odes, 93.

Sir Jno. Denham.

That are so wondrous sweet and fair. Waller, Go, lovely Rose.
Intemperate youth, by sad experience found,
Ends in an age imperfect and unsound.
Something of youth I in old age approve;
But more the marks of age in youth I love.
Who this observes may in his body find
Decrepit age, but never in his mind.
Grief seldom join'd with youthful bloom is seen;
Can sorrow be where knowledge scarce has been ?

Sir Jno. Denham.

Howard, Indian Queen.

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow ;
Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so. Pope, E. C. 438.
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly riding o'er the azure realm

In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,

Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ;
Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,
That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.

Gray, Bard, 11. 2.
The charms of youth at once are seen and past;
And Nature says, "They are too sweet to last.”
So blooms the rose, and so the blushing maid;
Be gay too soon the flowers of Spring will fade. Sir W. Jones.
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,

We love the play-place of our early days.
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone,
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.

Oh! the joy

Cowper, Tirocinium, 296.

Of young ideas painted on the mind,
In the warm glowing colours fancy spreads
On objects not yet known, when all is new,
And all is lovely.

Hannah More, David and Goliah.

I can remember, with unsteady feet,

Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasure

In flowers, and toys, and sweetmeats, things which long
Have lost their power to please; which when I see them,
Raise only now a melancholy wish,

I were the little trifler once again
Who could be pleas'd so lightly.
What is youth ?-a dancing billow,
Winds behind, and rocks before!

Southey, Thalaba.

Wordsworth.