_King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
He that has light within his own clear breast,
May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day:
But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the midday sun.
_Comus_. MILTON.
So Thought flung forward is the prophecy
Of Truth's majestic march, and shows the way
Where future time shall lead the proud array
Of peace, of power, and love of liberty.
SIR J. BOWRING.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
TIME.
O Time! the beautifier of the dead,
Adorner of the ruin, comforter
And only healer when the heart hath bled--
Time! the corrector where our judgments err,
The test of truth, love,--soul philosopher,
For all besides are sophists, from thy thrift
Which never loses though it doth defer--
Time, the avenger! unto thee I lift
My hands, and eyes, and heart, and crave of thee a gift.
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.
The more we live, more brief appear
Our life's succeeding stages:
A day to childhood seems a year,
And years like passing ages.
* * * * *
Heaven gives our years of fading strength
Indemnifying fleetness;
And those of youth, a seeming length,
Proportioned to their sweetness.
Pages:
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413