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76

CLERGYMAN- CLOUDS.

Be sure to keep up congregations,
In spite of laws and proclamations,
For charlatans can do no good,
Until they're mounted in a crowd.

693

Butler: Hudibras. Pt. iii. Canto ii. Line 969

The proud he tam'd, the penitent he cheer'd:
Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd.

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought
(A living sermon of the truths he taught -)

For this by rules severe his life he squar'd,

That all might see the doctrine which they heard.

694

Dryden Character of a Good Parson. Line 75

Hear how he clears the points o' faith

Wi' rattlin an' thumpin!

Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,
He's stampin, an' he's jumpin!

695

CLOUDS.

Burns: Holy Fair. St. 13

The clouds consign their treasure to the fields,
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow,

In large effusion o'er a freshen'd world.

696

Thomson: Seasons. Spring. Line 173
Bright clouds,

Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven

Their bases on the mountains their white tops
Shining in the far ether - fire the air

With a reflected radiance, and make turn

The gazer's eye away.

697

William Cullen Bryant: Summer Wind

Beautiful cloud! with folds so soft and fair,
Swimming in the pure quiet air!

Thy fleeces bathed in sunlight, while below
Thy shadow o'er the vale moves slow;

Where, midst their labor, pause the reaper train,

As cool it comes along the grain.

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Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows

In yonder West: the fair frail palaces,
The fading Alps and archipelagoes,

And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.

700

T. B. Aldrich: Miracles

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Clouds on the western side

Grow gray and grayer, hiding the warm sun.

701

Christina G. Rossetti: Twilight Calm

When evening touched the cape's low rim,
And dark fell on the waves,

We only saw processions dim

Of clouds, from shadowy caves;

These were the ghosts of buried ships

Gone down in one brief hour's eclipse.

702 James T. Fields: Morning and Evening by the Sea

Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance,

Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air,

Thy battlements hang o'er the slopes and the forests,
Seats of the Gods in the limitless ether,

Looming sublimely aloft and afar.

703

Bayard Taylor: Kilimandjaro.

They are fair resting-places

Joaquin Miller: Ina. Sc. 1.

For the dear weary dead on their way up to heaven. 704

One single cloud, a dusky bar,

Burnt with dull carmine through and through,

Slow smouldering in the summer sky,
Lies low along the fading west.

705

Cloud-walls of the morning's gray
Faced with amber column,

Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn.

May-mists, for the casements, fetch,

Pale and glimmering,

With a sunbeam hid in each,

And a smell of spring.

706

Celia Thaxter: Song.

Mrs. Browning: The House of Clouds

I loved the Clouds.

Fire-fringed at dawn, or red with twilight bloom,
Or stretched above, like isles of leaden gloom
In heaven's vast deep, or drawn in belts of gray,
Or dark blue walls along the base of day;

Or snow-drifts luminous at highest noon,

Ragged and black in tempests, veined with lightning,
And when the moon was brightening

Impearled and purpled by the changeful moon.

707

R. H. Stoddard: Carmen Naturae Triumphale Those clouds are angels' robes. That fiery west Is paved with smiling faces.

708

Charles Kingsley: Saint's Tragedy. Act i. Sc. 3

I see in the south uprising a little cloud, That before the sun shall be set will cover the sky above us as with a shroud.

709

Longfellow: Christus. Golden Legend. Pt. iv.

By unseen hands uplifted in the light

Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud

Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad,
And wafted up to heaven.

710

The hooded clouds, like friars,

Longfellow: Michael Angelo. Pt. ii. 2.

Longfellow: Midnight Mass.

Tell their beads in drops of rain.

711

COACH.

Go, call a coach, and let a coach be call'd,
And let the man who calleth be the caller,
And in his calling let him nothing call

But coach! coach! coach! oh, for a coach, ye gods!
Carey Chrononhotonthologos. Act i. Sc. 3.

712

COCK-CROWING.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

713

Shaks.: Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2. Song.

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day.

714

COLLECTOR.

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1.

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

715

COMFORT.

Shaks.: Wint. Tale. Act iv. Sc. 2.

O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution;

That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I'm past all comforts here but prayers. 716

COMMENTATORS.

Shaks.: Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

These leave the sense, their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.

717

Pope: E. on Criticism. Pt. i. Line 116.

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain,
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
718

Crabbe: Parish Register. Pt. i. Line 89

How commentators each dark passage shun,
And hold their farthing candle to the sun.

719

COMPARISONS.

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Young: Love of Fame. Satire vii. Line 97

Comparisons are odorous.

720 When the moon shone, we did not see the candle; So doth the greater glory dim the less.

Shaks.: Much Ado. Act iii. Sc. 5.

721 In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Save thine " incomparable oil," Macassar!

Shaks.: Mer. of Venice. Act v. Sc. 1.

722

COMPASSION

Byron: Don Juan. Canto i. St. 17.

see Pity.

Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue. 723

Shaks.: Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Shaks.: Titus And. Act iv. Sc. 1.

O, heavens! can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
724
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? Oh, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.

725

COMPENSATION.

Shaks.: King Lear. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Under the storm and the cloud to-day,
And to-day the hard peril and pain —
To-morrow the stone shall be rolled away,
For the sunshine shall follow the rain.
Merciful Father, I will not complain,

I know that the sunshine shall follow the rain.
726

Joaquin Miller: For Princess Maud.

The fiercest agonies have shortest reign;
And after dreams of horror, comes again
The welcome morning with its rays of peace.

727

William Cullen Bryant: Mutation

There is a day of sunny rest

For every dark and troubled night;
And grief may hide an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.

728 William C. Bryant: Blessed are They that Mourn

Oh, deem not they are blest alone

Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep;

The Power who pities man hath shown

A blessing for the eyes that weep.

729

William C. Bryant: Blessed are They that Mourn

Here is the longing, the vision,

The hopes that so swiftly remove;
There is the blessed fruition,

The feast, and the fulness of love.
730

Alice Cary: Here and There.

One launched a ship, but she was wrecked at sea;
He built a bridge, but floods have borne it down;
He meant much good, none came strange destiny,
His corn lies sunk, his bridge bears none to town,
Yet good he had not meant became his crown;
For once at work, when even as nature, free
From thought of good he was, or of renown,
God took the work for good and let good be.
731
They that are sad on earth in Heaven shall sing.
732 Beaumont & Fletcher. Wife for a Month. Act iv. Sc. 5.
"Tis toil's reward that sweetens industry,

Jean Ingelow: Compensation.

As love inspires with strength th' enraptur'd thrush.

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And joy with grief;

Divinest compensations come,

Through thorns of judgment mercies bloom
In sweet relief.

737

COMPLEXION.

Whittier: Anniversary Poem. St. 15.

'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.

738

Shaks.: Tw. Night. Act i. Sc. 5

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