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No vital chord nor troubled what she loved, To teach the young idea how to shoot,
pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, And, like a hermit stooping to the well
To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix That yields him sweet refreshment, might therein The generous purpose in the glowing breast. See but his own serenity reflected
0, speak the joy ! ye whom the sudden tear
All various nature pressing on the heart;
Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books,
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.
And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus
As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and consenting Spring world goes up and the world goes down, Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads; And the sunshine follows the rain ;
Till evening comes at last, serene and mild; And yesterday's sneer, and yesterday's frown, When after the long vernal day of life, Can never come over again,
Enamored more, as more remembrance spells Sweet wife,
With many a proof of recollected love, No, never come over again.
Together down they sink in social sleep;
Together freed, their gentle spirits fly For woman is warm, though man be cold,
To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign. And the night will hallow the day ;
Why don't the men propose, mamma,
Why don't the men propose ?
Why don't the men propose ?
This house is to be let for life or years ; 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws,
Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears; Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind,
Cupid, 't has long stood void ; her bills mak. That binds their peace, but harmony itself,
known, Attuning all their passions into love ;
She must be dearly let, or let alone. Where friendship full-exerts her softest power,
Emblems, Book ii. 10.
F. QUARLES. Perfect esteem enlivened by desire Ineffable, and sympathy of soul ;
Look ere thou leap, see ere thou go. Thought meeting thought, and will preventing
of Wiving and Thriving. will, With boundless confidence : for naught but love Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure : (an answer love, and render bliss secure.
Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.
The Old Bachelor, Act v. Sc. I.
Men are April when they woo, December wher
The lover in the husband may be lost. Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, Advice to a Lady,
FROM "THE SEASONS: SPRING."
T. H. BAYT..
As You Like It, Activ. Sc. I.
Eloisa to Abelard.
THE HAPPY Lot.
My latest found, Love of Fame.
E. YOUNG. Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight.
Paradise Lost, Book v.
She is mine own !
And I as rich in having such a jewel
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Two Gent. of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4
How much the wife is dearer than the bride.
An Irregular Ode.
Cowper. Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her
The Happy Marriage.
And when with envy Time, transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys, But proper time to marry.
You'll in your girls again he courted, Pairing Time Anticipated.
And I'll go wooing in my boys.
True love is but a humble, low-born thing,
And hath its food served up in earthen ware ; For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
Through the every-dayness of this work-day More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won,
world. Than women's are.
MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING. , But rather raised to be a nobler man,
And more divine in my humanity,
As knowing that the waiting eyes which scan
My life are lighted by a purer being,
And ask meek, calm-browed deeds, with it agrea.
Our love is not a fading, earthly flower:
And, nursed by day and night, by suu and
Doth momently to fresher beanty rise :
To us the leafless autumn is not bare,
Nor winter's rattling boughs lack lusty green.
Our summer hearts make summer's fulness, where
No leaf, or bud, or blossoin may be seen:
For nature's life in love's deep lise doth lie,
Love, — whose forgetfulness is leanty's death, Wi' her I 'll blythely bear it,
Whose mystic key these cells of Thou and I
Into the infinite freedom openeth,
The wind-flung leaves of Heavez's Palace-gate.
I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err ;
Love's deepest spokesman and interpreter.
But, as a mother feels her child first stir
Under her heart, so felt I instantly
Deep in my soul another bond to thee Love hath so purified my being's core,
Thrill with that life we saw depart from her ; Meseeins I scarcely should be startled, even,
O mother of our angel child ! twice der! To find, some morn, that thou haist gone before; Death knits as well as parts, and still, I wis,
Her tender radiance shall infold us here, Since, with thy love, this knowledge too was given,
Even as the light, borne up by inward bliss, Which each calın day doth strengthen more and Threads the void glooms of space without a fear,
To print on farthest stars her pitying kiss. more,
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL That they who love are but one step from Heaven.
ADAM TO EVE.
FROM "PARADISE LOST," BOOK IX.
I cannot think that thou shouldst pass away,
O FAIREST of creation, last and best
“Why, that,” she said, “is no reason. Love's
always free, I am told. Will you vow to be safe from the headache on
Tuesday, and think it will hold ?”
The strict forbiddance, how to violate
“But you,” he replied, “have a daughter, a
young little child, who was laid In your lap to be pure ; so I leave you : the
angels would make me afraid."
“O, that," she said, “is no reason. The angels
keep out of the way ; And Dora, the child, observes nothing, althongh
you should please me and stay." At which he rose up in his anger, “Why
now, you no longer are fair!
hateful, I swear.”
frankly put on by a vice.”
However, I with thee have fixed my lot,
Her eyes blazed upon him — “And you! You
bring us your vices so near That we smell them ! you think in our presence
a thought 't would defame us to hear !
LORD WALTER'S WIFE.
“But why do you go?" said the lady, while
“What reason had you, and what right. I both sate under the yew,
appeal to your soul from my life, And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the To find me too fair as a woman? Why, sir, I kraken beneath the sea-blue.
am pure, and a wife. “Because I fear you,” he answered ; because
“Is the day-star too fair up above you ? It
burns you not. Dare you imply you are far too fair, And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your
I brushed you more close than the star does,
when Walter had set me as high ? gold-colored hair.
“ If a man finds a woman too fair, he means “O, that,” she said, “is no reason ! Such knots
simply adapted too much are quickly undone,
To uses unlawful and fatal. The praise !-- shall And too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun.'
I thank you for such ?
Too fair ? — not unless you misuse us! and :6 Yet farewell so,” he answered ; - "the sun.
surely if, once in a while, stroke's fatal at times.
You attain to it, straightway you call us no I value your husband, Lord Walter, whose gallop
longer too fair, but too vile. rings still from the limes."
I pray your attention !—I have :0, that,” she said, “is no reason. You smell a
a poor word in my head rose through a fence :
I must utter, though womanly custom would set If two should smell it, what matter? who grum
it down better unsaid. bles, and where's the pretence ?” “But I," he replied, “have promised another, “You grew, sir, pale to impertinence, once when when love wis free,
I showed you a ring. To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves You kissed my fan when I dropped it. No mat.
ter! I've broken the thing.
“You did me the honor, perhaps, to be inoved and all stood back, and none my right denied, at my side now and then
And forth we walked : the world was free and wide In the senses,
- a vice, I have heard, which is Before us. Since that day common to beasts and some men,
I count my life: the Past is washed away.
Love's a virtue for heroes ! - - as white as the It was no dream, that vow : snow on high hills,
It was the voice that woke me from a dream, And immortal as every great soul is that strug- A happy dream, I think ; but I am waking noir, glus, endures, and fulfills,
And drink the splendor of a sun supreme
That turns the mist of former tears to gold “I love my Walter profoundly, — you, Maude, Within these arms I hold thongh you faltered a week,
The fleeting promise, chased so long in vain : For the sake of ... what was it ? an eyebrow ? An, weary bird ! thou wilt not fly again: or, less still, a mole on a cheek ?
Thy wings are clipped, thou canst no more de.
part, “And since, when all's said, you 're too nolle to Thy nest is builled in my heart !
stoop to the frivolous cant About crimes irresistible, virtues that swindle, I was the crescent; thou betray, and supplant,
The silver phantom of the perfect sphere,
Held in its bosom: in one glory now “I determined to prove to yourself that, what- Our lives united shine, and many a year — e'er you might dream or avow
Not the sweet moon of bridal only By illusion, you wanted precisely no more of me One lustre, ever at the full, shall be : than you have now.
One pure and rounded light, one planet whole,
One life developed, one completed soul ! “There ! Look me full in the face !-- in the For I in thee, and thou in me, face. Understand, if you can,
Unite our cloren halves of destiny. That the eyes of such women as I am are clean as the palm of a man.
God knew his chosen time.
He bade me slowly ripen to my prime, "Drop his hand, you insult him. Avoid us for And from my boughs with held the promised frui: fear we should cost you a scar,
Till storm and sun gave vigor to the root. You take us for harlots, I tell you, and not for Secure, O Love ! secure the women we are.
Thy blessing is : I have thee day and night:
Thou art become my blood, my life, my light: “ You wronged me : but then I considered ...God's mercy thou, and therefore shalt endwe.
there's Walter ! Avd so at the end, I vowed that he should not be mulcted, by me, in the hand of a friend.
THE DAY RETURNS, MY BOSOM BURNS. ' Have I hurt you indeed? We are quits then.
The day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet ;
Though winter wild in tempest toiled,
Ne'er summer sun was half sae sweet.
And crosses o'er the sultry line,
Heaven gave me more ; it made thee mine.
si It was our wedding-day
While day and night can bring delight
Or nature anght of pleasure give,
For thee and thee alone I live;
Comes in between to make us part,
It breaks my bliss, – it breaks my heart.