J. THOMSON.
My nature is subdued
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
_Sonnet CXI_. SHAKESPEARE.
Mechanic slaves
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers.
_Antony and Cleopatra, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
How many a rustic Milton has passed by,
Stifling the speechless longings of his heart,
In unremitting drudgery and care!
How many a vulgar Cato has compelled
His energies, no longer tameless then,
To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail!
_Queen Mab, Pt. V_. P.B. SHELLEY.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work.
_King Henry, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you,
But yet, 'tis one.
MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain.
_Macbeth. Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.
Cheered with the view, man went to till the ground
From, whence he rose; sentenced indeed to toil,
As to a punishment, yet (even in wrath,
So merciful is heaven) this toil became
The solace of his woes, the sweet employ
Of many a livelong hour, and surest guard
Against disease and death.
_Death_. B. PORTEUS.
Like a lackey, from the rise to set,
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
And follows so the ever-running year
With profitable labor to his grave.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249