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A foot more light, a step more true,
Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew.

Canto i. St. 21.
On his bold visage middle age
Had slightly pressed its signet sage

Canto ii. St. 22.
Some feelings are to mortals given
With less of earth in them than heaven.

Canto iv. St. 1. The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.

Canto iv. St. 30. Art thou a friend to Roderick ?

Canto v. St. 10.
Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.

And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel.

The Lord of the Isles.

Canto v. Stanza 18. O many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark, the archer little meant ! And many a word at random spoken May soothe, or wound, a heart that's broken!

Old Mortality.

Vol. ii. Chapter xxi. Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!

To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life

Is worth an age without a name.

The Monastery.

Vol. i. Chapter xii. Within that awful volume lies The mystery of mysteries !

THOMAS MOORE.

1780-1852.

Lalla Rookh. The Fire-Worshippers. O, ever thus from childhood's hour

I've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree or flower,

But 't was the first to fade away.

The Light of the Harem. Alas ! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied; That stood the storm when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity.

All that's bright must fade.
All that 's bright must fade, –

The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest.

Farewell! But whenever you welcome the hour. You may break, you may shatter the vase,

if But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

you will,

Ballad Stanzas.
I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled

Above the green elms, that a cottage was near,
And I said “if there 's peace to be found in the world,

“ A heart that was humble might hope for it here."

The Blue Stocking.
To sigh, yet feel no pain,

To weep, yet scarce know why;
To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,

Then throw it idly by.

This World is all a Fleeting Show.
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.

Oft in the Stilly Night.
Oft in the stilly night

E’er slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

REGINALD HEBER.

1783-1826.

Palestine.
No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung
Like some tall palm, the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence!

Christmas Hymn. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid.

First Sunday after Epiphany.

No. ii.
By cool Siloam's shady rill

How sweet the lily grows.

* Altered in later editions to

No workman steel, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the noiseless fabric sprung.
Silently as a dream the fabric rose,
No sound of hammer or of saw was there.

The Winter Morning Walk, B. V.

COWPER.

Seventh Sunday after Trinity. When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing

soil.

At a Funeral.
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in

every

flower.

No. ii. Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb.

On heavenly hope and earthly hope.
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,
Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene

As false and fleeting as ’t is fair.

Missionary Hymn.
From Greenland's icy mountains,

From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand.

JONATHAN M. SEWALL.

1748 – 1808.

Epilogue to Cato.
WRITTEN FOR THE BOW STREET THEATRE, PORTSMOUTH, N. H.

No pent up Utica contracts your powers,
But the whole boundless continent is yours.

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