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AY, ay, and she hath offered to the doom
(Which, unreserved, stands in effectual force,)
A sea of melting pearl which some call tears;
Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered;
With them, upon her knees, her humble self;
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them,
As if but now they waxed pale for woe:

But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver shedding tears,
Could penetrate his uncompassionate heart.

Shakspere.

I did not think to shed a single tear
In all my miseries; but thou has forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.

Shakspere.

Home now Thealma wends 'twixt hope and fear,
Sometimes she smiles, anon she drops a tear,
That stole along her cheeks, and falling down,
Into a pearl it freezeth with her frown. Chalkhill.

No radiant pearl that crested fortune wears,
No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears,
Not the bright stars that night's blue arch adorn,
Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn,

Shine with such lustre as the tear that breaks
For other's woe down virtue's manly cheeks.

Darwin.

And sorrow too finds some relief,
In tears which wait upon our grief.

Waller.

There may be some too brave to weep
O'er poverty, or care, or wrong,

Within whose manly bosoms sleep
Emotions gentle, warm, and strong;
Which wait the wakening of a tone
Unmarked, unthought of by the crowd,

And seeming unto them alone,

A voice both eloquent and loud;
And then the feelings hid for years,
Burst forth at length in burning tears.

Anon.

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How wisely nature did decree,
With the same eyes to weep and see!
That having viewed thy object vain,
They might be ready to complain,
And since the self-deluding sight
In a false angle takes each height,
These tears, which better measure all,
Like wat'ry lines and plummets fall.
Two tears, which sorrow long did weigh
Within the scales of either eye;
And then paid out in equal poise,
Are the true price of all
my joys.
What in the world most fair appears,
Yea, even laughter turns to tears;
And all the jewels which we prize,
Melt in these pendants of the eyes.

Marvell.

Some feelings are to mortals given,
With less of earth in them than heaven:
And if there be a human tear
From passion's dross, refined and clear-
A tear so limpid and so meek,

It would not stain an angel's cheek,
'Tis that which pious fathers shed
Upon a duteous daughter's head.

For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.

Scott.

Campbell.

There is a sweet salt in thy kisses, dear!
That dwells upon thy lip, like ocean foam
Dropp'd from the whirling airs: what wandering tear
Hath left the palace of its orbed home;
Straying from crystal over warm carnation,
Unto thy rich mouth's curving almondine,
Where half its due is minister'd to mine
In our fix'd greeting's balmy implication.
Be it the herald of a tempest-shower,
Enclouded in the heaven of thy heart;
Or but a summer drop, which the warm power
Of love doth to the air of sighs impart;
Like a true Bacchant will I drink it up,
Keeping my mad lips glued upon the cup!

Wade.

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For thus friends absent speak: this case controls
The tediousness of my life.

Donne.

TEMPER.

REMEMBER with what mild,

And gracious temper he hath heard, and judged
Without wrath or reviling.

Teach me like thee in various nature wise,
To fall with dignity, with temper rise.

Milton.

Pope.

TEMPERANCE.

His senseless speech and doted ignorance
When as the noble prince had marked well,
He calmed his wrath with goodly temperance.

If thou well observe

Spenser.

The rule of not too much, by temperance taught,
In what thou eat'st and drink'st, seeking from thence
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight.
Till many years over thy head return:

So may'st thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease

Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, in death mature.

Milton.

Make temperance thy companion, so shall health
Sit on thy brow.

By winds that temperately blow,
The bark should pass secure and slow.

Dodsley.

Addison.

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I HAVE seen tempests, when the scolding winds
Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen
The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam,
To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds;
But never till to-night, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.

And tempests in contention roar,

From land to sea, from sea to land;
And raging, weave a chain of power,
Which girds the earth as with
A flashing desolation there,

Shakspere.

a band.

Flames before the thunder's way;
But thy servants, Lord! revere
The gentle changes of thy day.

The angels draw strength from Thy glance,
Though no one comprehend Thee may;
The world's unwither'd countenance,

Is bright as at creation's day.

Shelley, from Goethe.

The sky is changed! and such a change! oh night,
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman! far along,

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
And this is in the night:-Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,-
A portion of the tempest and of thee!
How the lit lake shines, like a phosphoric sea,
And the big rain comes dancing on the earth!
And now again 't is black,—and now, the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Byron.

TEMPLE.

TEMPTATION.

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TEMPLE.

MOST sacrilegious murder that broke open
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.

Shakspere.

Mark her majestic fabric! she's a temple
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;
Her soul's the deity that lodges there;
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god.

TEMPTATION.

Dryden.

WHAT war so cruel, and what siege so sore,
As that which strong temptation doth apply
Against the fort of reason evermore,

To bring the soul into captivity?

What! do I love her,

That I desire to speak to her again?

Spenser.

And feast upon her eyes? what is 't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that to catch a saint,

With saints dost bait thy hook! most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin, in loving virtue.

Stand fast! to stand or fall,

Free in thine own arbitrament it stands,
Perfect within, no outward aid require;
And all temptation to transgress repel.

Shakspere.

But Satan now is wiser than of yore,
And tempts by making rich, not making poor.

And while in peace abiding

Milton.

Pope.

Within a shelter'd home,

We feel as sin and evil

Could never, never come;

But let the strong temptation rise,
As whirlwinds sweep the sea—

We find no strength to 'scape the wreck,
Save, pitying God, in Thee!

Mrs. Hale

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