Part 60

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

54. Sleep, infested with the burning sting Of bug infernal, who the live-long night With direst suction sips thy liquid gore.

ROBERT FERGUSON.

55. When you behold a spider Prey on a fly, a magpie on a worm, Or view a butcher, with horn-handled knife, Slaughter a tender lamb as dead as mutton, Indeed, indeed you're very, very sick!

HORACE AND JAMES SMITH--Rejected Addresses.

56. Where'er that place the priests ca' hell, Whence a' the tones of misery yell, And ranked plagues their numbers tell, In dreadfu' row, Thou, toothache, surely bear'st the bell Amang them a'!

BURNS.

57. You scorn this hated scene Of masking and disguise, Where men on men still gleam With falseness in their eyes, Where all is counterfeit, And truth hath never say, Where hearts themselves do cheat, Concealing hope's decay, And, writhing at the stake, Themselves do liars make.

MOTHERWELL.

58. You call the time misspent that is bestow'd On loud-tongued orators, whose art it is To launch their hearers upon passion's tide, And drive them on by gusts of windy words.

CUMBERLAND--Calvary.

59. You do despise a liar as you do despise one that is false, or as you despise one that is not true.

Merry Wives of Windsor.

60. Songs and unbaked poetry, Such as the dabblers of our time contrive, That has no weight, nor wheel to move the mind, Nor indeed nothing but an empty sound.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--The Elder Brother.

WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR RESIDENCE?

The World was all before her, where to choose Her place of rest, and Providence her guide.

MILTON.

The mind is its own place, and of itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

MILTON.

WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR RESIDENCE?

1. Near some fair town you'll have a private seat, Built uniform, not little, nor too great; It shall within no other things contain, But what are useful, necessary, plain; A little garden grateful to the eye, While a cool rivulet runs murmuring by.

Pomfret's Choice.

2. Amongst the vines, See'st thou not where thy villa stands? The moonbeam Strikes on the granite column, and mountains Rise sheltering round it.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS.

3. Child of the town and bustling street, What woes and snares await thy feet! Thy paths are paved for many miles, Thy groves and hills are peaks and tiles.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

4. A warm but simple home, where thou'lt enjoy With one, who shares thy pleasures and thy heart, Sweet converse, sipping calm the fragrant lymph Which neatly is prepared.