And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn The Winter Evening. Lines 36-41. War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings should not play at. The Winter Morning Walk. I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polish'd manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. The Winter Walk at Noon. Lines 559-562. How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, The Progress of Error. None but an author knows an author's cares, Ibid. Lines 516, 517. The Cross, There, and there only (though the Deist rave, And Atheist, if earth bear so base a slave), The Progress of Error. Lines 613-616. But truths, on which depends our main concern, Tirocinium. Lines 77-80. Now let us sing, Long live the King, And Gilpin long live he; And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see. History of John Gilpin. annoys, Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair * See also the Book of Habakkuk, chapter ii. verse 2: "And the Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it." And Young's Night Thoughts-Night IX. line 1660 "Who runs may read, who reads can understand." + This extract forms a portion of a passage, too long to quote in its entirety, attacking tobacco and the habit I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. There is mercy in every place, Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot. Verses supposed to have been written by They whom truth and wisdom lead, Can gather honey from a weed. The Pine Apple and the Bee. The kindest and the happiest pair, Will find occasion to forbear, of smoking. The mind of the reader will doubtless at once be directed to Lord Byron's lines of an antagonistic tendency, in the second canto of "The Island.”—See Quotations from Byron. And something every day they live To pity, and perhaps forgive. Mutual Forbearance necessary to the Happiness of the Married State. While you my friend, whatever wind should blow, An Epistle to Joseph Hill, Esq. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore! * On the Loss of the Royal George. Read, ye that run, the awful truth, A worm is in the bud of youth, Stanzas subjoined to the Yearly Bill of Mortality Then raising her voice to a strain The sweetest that ear ever heard, * Campbell is often quoted as the author of this poem. |