Nay, move not thus the least,

You have you long have had"-"Say on,
Sweet girl! thy heart?". -"Your foot upon

The flounce of my battiste."

Hoffman's Poems.

I knelt,

And with the fervour of a lip unus'd
To the cool breath of reason, told my love.

Willis's Poems.

and not elsewhere.

He that suffers
Prosperity to swell him 'bove a mean;
Like those impressions 'n the air, that rise
From dunghill vapours, scatter'd by the wind,
Leaves nothing but an empty name behind.
Nabb's Hannibal and Scipio.

Whither my heart is gone, there follows my hand, Of both our fortunes, good and bad, we find
Prosperity more searching of the mind:
For where the heart goes before, like a lamp, and Felicity flies o'er the wall and fence,

ill nines the pathway,
Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden

The pale hearts of the silver stars
Throb too, as mine to thee
Al things delight in love, lady,
Why not we?

While misery keeps in with patience.

Herrick.

And when our children turn the page,

T. Buchanan Read. To ask what triumphs mark'd our age-
What we achiev'd to challenge praise,
Through the long line of future days
This let them read, and hence instruction draw:
"Here were the many bless'd,

PROSPERITY.

Prosperity's the very bond of love,

Whose fresn complexion, and whose heart together,
Affliction alter.

Shaks. Winter's Tale.

Here found the virtues rest,

Faith link'd with Love, and Liberty with Law.
Sprague's Centennial Ode.

PROVIDENCE.

And is there care in heaven? and is there love
In heavenly spirits to the creatures base,
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is; else much more wretched were the case
Of men than beasts. But O! th' exceeding grace
Of highest God that loves his creatures so,
And all his works with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed angels he sends to and fro

Who is it, that will doubt

The care of heaven; or think th' immortal
Pow'rs are slow, 'cause they take the privilege
To choose their own time, when they will send
their
Blessings down.

Sir W. Davenant's Fair Favourite.
"T is the curse of mighty minds oppress'd,
To think what their state is, and what it should

be:

To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe! Impatient of their lot, they reason fiercely,

How oft do they their silver bowers leave
To come to succour us that succour want?
How oft do they with golden pinions cleave
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,
Against foul fiends to aid us militant?
They for us fight, they watch and duly ward,
And their bright squadrons round about us plant;
And all for love, and nothing for reward:

O why should heavenly God to men have such re-
gard!
Spenser's Fairy Queen.
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well;
When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach

In thy large book what secrets are enroll'd!
What sundry helps doth thy great power assign,
To prop the course which thou intend'st to hold?
What mortal sense is able to define
Thy mysteries, thy counsels many fold?
It is thy wisdom strangely that extends
Obscure proceedings to apparent ends.
Drayton's Baron's Wars.

Wisdom and virtue be
The only destinies set for a man to follow.
The heavenly pow'rs are to be reverenc'd,
Not search'd into; their mercies rather be
By humble prayers to be sought, than their
Hidden councils by curiosity.
Baron's Mirza.

And call the laws of Providence unequal.

Rowe

The ways of heaven are dark and intricate,
Puzzled in mazes, and perplex'd with errors;
Our understanding traces them in vain,
Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search;
Nor sees with how much art the windings run,
Nor where the regular confusion ends.

Addison's Cato

All nature is but art unknown to thee;
All chance direction, which thou canst not see;

| All discord harmony not understood;
All partial evil universal good:

And spite of pride, in crring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.

Pope's Essay on Man.
This is thy work, Almighty Providence!
Whose power, beyond the reach of human thought,
Revolves the orbs of empire; bids them sink
Or rise majestic o'er a wondering world.
Deep in the dead'ning night of thy displeasure,

Thomson's Coriolanus.
The gods take pleasure oft, when haughty mortals
On their own pride erect a mighty fabric,
By slightest means, to lay their towering schemes
Low in the dust, and teach them they are nothing.
Thomson's Coriolanus.
Wondrous chance!

Or rather wondrous conduct of the gods!
By mortals, from their blindness, chance misnam'd.
Thomson's Agamemnon.