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74 AVENGE. AWKWARDNESS.
All those great battles which thou boasts to win Through strife and bloodshed, and avengement, Now praised, hereafter thou shalt repent.
Till .Tove, no longer patient, took his time,
Ere this he had returned with fury driven
By his avengers; since no place like this
Can fit his punishment nor their revenge. Milton.
But just disease to luxury succeeds,
And every death its own avenger breeds. Pope.
A wrong avenged is doubly perpetrated,
Two sinners stand where lately stood but one.
What's a fine person, or a beauteous face,
Not all the pumice of the polished town
Can smooth the roughness of the barn-yard clown;
Rich, honour'd, titled, he betrays his race
By this one mark—he's awkward in his face.
O. W. Holmes.
BABE. BAIT. 75
Tars, like a sailor by the tempest hurl'd
Dryden, from Lueretius.
The babe had all that infant care beguiles
And early knew his mother in her smiles.—Dryden.
A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a
messenger of peace and love; A resting-place for innocence on earth, a link between
angels and men; Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be rendered
back with interest; A delight, but redolent with care; honey sweet, but
lacking not the bitter. For character groweth day by day, and all things aid
it in unfolding; And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the
hours of infancy.
M. F. Tapper.
And that same glorious beauty's idle boast,
Is but a bait, such wretches to beguile. Spenser.
What so strong, But wanting rest will also want of might? The sun, that measures heaven all day long, At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves among.
Spenser. Oh. 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. Shakspere.
Accounting woman's beauties sugared baits,
But our desires, tyrannical extortion
Doth force us there to set our chief delightfulness,
Where but a baiting-y>\aee is all our portion.
Sir P. Sidney.
Fruit like that Which grew in paradise, the bait of Eve, Used by the tempter. Milton.
Sweet words I grant, baits and allurements sweet, But greatest hopes of greatest crosses meet.
How are the sex improved in amorous arts!
Oh, balmy breath! that dost almost persuade
Those rich perfumes which from the happy shore,
Would'st thou from sorrow find a sweet relief,
Balm would'st thou gather for corroding grief?
In the breath of morn is balm.
Balmy are the dews of even;
Balm for human woe is given. H. G. A. BANISHMEST. 77
Banish'd! the damned use that word in hell;
We banish you our territories;
You, cousin Hereford, on pain of death;
Till twice five summers have enriched our fields,
Shall not revisit our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
Flies may do this, when I from this must fly;
I Ve stoopt my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign lands.
Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
While you have fed upon my signories;
Disparked my parks, and felled my forest woods;
From mine own windows torn my household-coat.
Razed out my impress; leaving me no sign,
Save men's opinions, and my living blood,
To show the world I am a gentleman. Shakspere.
Bound the wide world in banishment we roam,
'Tis not absence to be far,
But to abhor is to absent;
Sight itself is banishment.
From the Spanish of Mendoza. 78 BANK. BARD.
By powerful charms of gold and silver led,
****** Whole droves of lenders crowd the banker's doors To call in money.
'T is happy when our streams of knowledge flow
Gain by degrees huge tracts of land;
Turns all again to barren strand.
Are said to represent the seas;
Kescue their own whene'er they please.
The bankers rained if he pays;
The birds are met to strip the jays.
Where creditors demand their due;
And leave the empty chests in view. Sn-iff.
And many bards, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voices cunningly. Spenser.
The bard who first adorn'd our native tongue,
Dry den. On a rock, whose haughty brow
Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood,