74 AVENGE. AWKWARDNESS. AVENGE. ALL those great battles which thou boasts to win Till Jove, no longer patient, took his time, Ere this he had returned with fury driven But just disease to luxury succeeds, Spenser. Dryden. A wrong avenged is doubly perpetrated, Milton. Pope. T. Mc' Kellar. AWKWARDNESS. WHAT'S a fine person, or a beauteous face, Awkward, embarrass'd, stiff, without the skill Of moving gracefully, or standing still, One leg, as if suspicious of his brother, ** Desirous seems to run away from t'other.-Churchill. Not all the pumice of the polished town Can smooth the roughness of the barn-yard clown; Rich, honour'd, titled, he betrays his race By this one mark-he's awkward in his face. O. W. Holmes. BABE. BAIT. BABE. THUS, like a sailor by the tempest hurl'd Helpless of all that human wants require; Exposed upon inhospitable earth, From the first moment of his hapless birth; Dryden, from Lucretius. The babe had all that infant care beguiles And early knew his mother in her smiles.-Dryden. A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love; A resting-place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men; Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be rendered back with interest; A delight, but redolent with care; honey sweet, but lacking not the bitter. For character groweth day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding; And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of infancy. BAIT. M. F. Tupper. AND that same glorious beauty's idle boast, What so strong, But wanting rest will also want of might? Spenser. At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves among. Spenser. Oh, cunning enemy! that to catch a saint, With saints dost bait thy hook! most dangerous To sin in loving virtue. Shakspere. Accounting woman's beauties sugared baits, But our desires, tyrannical extortion Wm. Browne. Doth force us there to set our chief delightfulness, Where but a baiting-place is all our portion. Sir P. Sidney. Fruit like that Which grew in paradise, the bait of Eve, Used by the tempter. Milton. Sweet words I grant, baits and allurements sweet, But greatest hopes of greatest crosses meet. Fairfax. How are the sex improved in amorous arts! Prior. BALM.-BALMY. OH, balmy breath! that dost almost persuade Shakspere. Those rich perfumes which from the happy shore, Would'st thou from sorrow find a sweet relief, In the breath of morn is balm, H. G. A. BANISHMENT. BANISHMENT. BANISH'D! the damned use that word in hell; We banish you our territories; 77 Shakspere. You, cousin Hereford, on pain of death; But tread the stranger paths of banishment. Shakspere. Flies may do this, when I from this must fly; Shakspere. I've stoopt my neck under your injuries, Banish me! Banish your dotage; banish usury, Shakspere. Shakspere. Round the wide world in banishment we roam, Successless all her soft caresses prove, Dryden. To banish from his breast his country's love.-Pope. 'Tis not absence to be far, But to abhor is to absent; To those who in disfavour are, From the Spanish of Mendoza. 78 BANK. BARD. BANK-BANKERS. By powerful charms of gold and silver led, Whole droves of lenders crowd the banker's doors To call in money. Dryden. 'Tis happy when our streams of knowledge flow To fill their banks, but not to overflow. The bold encroaches on the deep, Denham. Which breaking bankers and the banks, Swift. We want our money on the nail, So powerful are a banker's bills Where creditors demand their due; They break up counters, doors, and tills, Swift. BARD. AND many bards, that to the trembling chord Spenser. The bard who first adorn'd our native tongue, On a rock, whose haughty brow Dryden. |