Was never evening yet But seemed far beautifuller than its day. The Ring and the Book. Pompilia. Line 357. The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness. Of what I call God, And fools call Nature. Ibid. The Pope. Line 590. Why comes temptation, but for man to meet White shall not neutralize the black, nor good It is the glory and good of Art That Art remains the one way possible Line 1073 Line 1185. Line 1236. Of speaking truth,to mouths like mine, at least. 1 Ibid. The Book and the Ring. Line 842. Thy rare gold ring of verse (the poet praised) But how carve way i' the life that lies before, Line 873. Balaustion's Adventure. Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Have found your you The Inn Album. iv. life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. At the Mermaid." Stanza 10. 1 Mrs. Browning. "With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart once more! God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, CHARLES DICKENS. 1812-1870. House. x. Cenciaja. A demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body! My life is one demd horrid grind. Nicholas Nickleby. Chap. xxxiv. Pickwick Papers. Chap. i. In a Pickwickian sense. Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old! Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the ivy green. Chap. vi. He's tough, ma'am,-tough is J. B.; tough and devil ish sly. When found, make a note of. Dombey and Son. Chap. vii. Chap. xv. The bearings of this observation lays in the application on it. Barkis is willin'. Chap. xxiii. David Copperfield. Chap. v. Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism, all very good words for the lips, especially prunes and prism. Little Dorrit. Book ii. Chap. v. Whatever was required to be done, the Circumlocution Office was beforehand with all the public departments in the art of perceiving HOW NOT to do it. Chap. x. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. 1 See Wordsworth, page 485. Christmas Carol. Stave 2. 2 See Herbert, page 206. CHRISTOPHER P. CRANCH. 1813 Thought is deeper than all speech, What unto themselves was taught. We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; To remove the shadowy screen. Stanzas. Ibid. F. W. FABER. 1814-1863. For right is right, since God is God,1 To falter would be sin. The Right must win. Labour itself is but a sorrowful song, The protest of the weak against the strong. The Sorrowful World. CHARLES MACKAY. Cleon hath a million acres, 1814- ne'er a one have I; Cleon dwelleth in a palace, in a cottage I. - But the sunshine aye shall light the sky, And the truth shall ever come uppermost, And justice shall be done. Cleon and I. Eternal Justice. Stanza 4. Aid the dawning, tongue and pen; Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's There's a good time coming, boys! 1 See Crabbe, page 444. Clear the Way. foam, Some love to roam. The Good Time coming. Old Tubal Cain was a man of might Tubal Cain. ELLEN STURGIS HOOPER. 1816-1841. I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty; Life a Duty. PHILIP JAMES BAILEY. 1816 We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Festus. Scene, A Country Town. Poets are all who love, who feel great truths, Scene, Another and a Better World. America! half-brother of the world! Scene, The Surface. ELIZA COOK. 1817- I love it, I love it, and who shall dare The Old Arm-Chair. How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start NATHANIEL P. WILLIS. 1817-1867. At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the city.1 Necessity for a Promenade Drive. For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart, And makes his pulses fly, To catch the thrill of a happy voice And the light of a pleasant eye. It is the month of June, Saturday Afternoon. The month of leaves and roses, And pleasant scents the noses. The Month of June. Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him! WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 1817——— I laugh, for hope hath happy place with me; A Poet's Hope. I sing New England, as she lights her fire Most joyful let the Poet be; It is through him that all men see. New England. The Poet of the Old and New Times. 1 See Haliburton, page 580. |