Part 56

G. P. MORRIS.

3. It's hardly in a body's power To keep at times frae being sour, To see how things are shared; How best o' chiels are whiles in want, While coofs on countless thousands rant, And ken na how to wair't.

BURNS.

4. Oh, it is sad to look upon The play-place of our youthful hours, And mark what wasting change hath run As fire amid its bowers, And sear'd its greenwood tree, and left A trunk all blacken'd and bereft!

J. W. MILLER.

5. Conversation, when reduced to say The hundredth time what you have said before.

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

6. You never speak the word farewell But with an utterance faint and broken, A heart-sick yearning for the time When it shall never more be spoken.

BOWLES.

7. GENTLEMAN.--Now, my lord, as for tripe, it's your utter aversion.

GOLDSMITH--Haunch of Venison.

7. LADY.--An exquisite of the highest stamp.

ALBERT PIKE.

8. To see Things of no better mould Than thou thyself art, greedily In Fame's bright page enroll'd.

MOTHERWELL.

9. Weaving spiders.-- Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!

Midsummer Night's Dream.

10. You have no taste for pomp and strife, Which others love to find; Your only wish, that bliss of life, A poor and quiet mind.

CLARE.

11. You like not this phrenology, This system of unfolding The secret of a man's desires To every one's beholding.

R. M. CHARLTON.

12. The sullen passion, and the hasty pet, The swelling lip, the tear-distended eye, The peevish question, the perverse reply.

HAYLEY--Triumphs of Temper.

13. Nor do you love that common phrase of guests, As, we make bold, or, we are troublesome; We take you unprovided, and the like; ----nor that common phrase of hosts, Oh, had I known your coming, we'd have had Such things and such; nor blame of cook, to say, This dish or that hath not been served with care.

THOMAS HEYWOOD AND RICHARD BROOME--The Late Lancashire Witches.

14. Tales of love were wont to weary you; I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Two Gentlemen of Verona.

15. 'Tis a dreary thing to be Tossing on the wide, wide sea, When the sun has set in clouds, And the wind sighs through the shrouds, With a voice and with a tone Like a living creature's moan!