Literary Reminiscences and Gleanings

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T. Dinham, 1860 - 162 pages

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Page 95 - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave.
Page 94 - A BARD'S EPITAPH Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool? Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing dool, And drap a tear.
Page 132 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 95 - Here pause and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor Inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame, But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit ; Know, prudent, cautious self-control Is wisdom's root.
Page 141 - I SAW him once before^ As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
Page 14 - The point impartially I poise, And read or write, but without wrath ; For should I burn or break my brains, Pray, who will pay me for my pains ? I love my neighbour as myself, Myself like him too, by his leave ; Nor to his pleasure, power, or pelf, Came I to crouch, as I conceive : Dame Nature doubtless has design'd A man the monarch of his mind. Now taste and try this temper, sirs...
Page 13 - I AM content, I do not care, Wag as it will the world for me ; When fuss and fret was all my fare, It got no ground as I could see. So when away my caring went, I counted cost and was content. With more of thanks and less of thought, I strive to make my matters meet ; To seek what ancient sages sought, Physic and food in sour and sweet : To take what passes in good part, And keep the hiccups from the heart.
Page 153 - When, sorrowing, o'er some stone I bend, Which covers all that was a friend : And from his voice, his hand, his smile, Divides me for a little while, Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed, For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.
Page 13 - Fortune's favour or her frown, For lack or glut, for loss or gain, I never dodge nor up nor down, But swing what way the ship shall swim, Or tack about with equal trim.
Page 65 - And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. How should I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung ; To see them look their mother's features, To hear them lisp their mother's tongue. And when with envy, time transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.

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