And islands that, empurpled bright,
Floated amid the livelier light;

And mountains, that like giants stand,
To centinel enchanted land.

High on the south, huge Benvenue

Down to the lake in masses threw

Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurl'd,
The fragments of an earlier world;
A wildering forest feathered o'er
His ruined sides and summit hoar,
While on the north, through middle air,
Benean heav'd high his forehead bare.
The summer dawn's reflected hue
To purple changed Loch Katrine blue;
Mildly and soft the western breeze
Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees,
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,
Trembled but dimpled not for joy;
The mountain shadows on her breast
Were neither broken nor at rest;
In bright uncertainty they lie,
Like future joys to Fancy's eye.
The water lily to the light

Her chalice rear'd of silver bright;
The doe awoke, and to the lawn,
Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn;
The grey mist left the mountain side,
The torrent showed its glistening pride;
Invisible in flecked sky,

The lark sent down her revelry;

The black-bird and the speckled thrush
Good-morrow gave from brake and bush;
In answer cooed the cushat dove,
Her notes of peace, and rest, and love.

SCOTT.

LOGIC. (Hudibras, his Logic)

He was in logic a great critic,
Profoundly skill'd in analytic;
He could distinguish, and divide

A hair 'twixt south and south-west side;
On either which he would dispute,
Confute, change hands, and still confute :
He'd undertake to prove, by force
Of argument a man's no horse;
He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl,
And that a lord may be an owl;
A calf an alderman, a goose a justice,
And rooks committee-men and trustees.
He'd run in debt by disputation,

And pay with ratiocination :

All this by syllogism true,

In mood and figure he would do.

BUTLER.

LONDON. (Motives for going to)

Ambition, av'rice, penury incurr'd

By endless riot, vanity, the lust
Of pleasure and variety, dispatch,
As duly as the swallows disappear,

The world of wand'ring knights and squires to town.
London ingulfs them all! The shark is there,

And the shark's prey; the spendthrift, and the leech

That sucks him: there the sycophant, and he
Who, with bareheaded and obsequious bows,
Begs a warm office, doom'd to a cold jail
And groat per diem, if his patron frown.
The levee swarms, as if in golden pomp
Were character'd on every statesman's door,
• Batter'd and bankrupt fortunes mended here.'

These are the charms that sully and eclipse
The charms of nature. 'Tis the cruel gripe,
That lean, hard-handed poverty inflicts,

The hope of better things, the chance to win,
The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd,
That at the sound of winter's hoary wing
Unpeople all our counties of such herds

Of flutt'ring, loit'ring, cringing, begging, loose,
And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast
And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.

Love.

(Concealed)

She never told her love,

CowPER.

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,

She sat like patience on a monument,

Smiling at grief.

LOVE. (Connubial)

SHAKSPEARE.

Till Hymen brought his love-delighted hour, There dwelt no joy in Eden's rosy bower! In vain the viewless seraph lingering there, At starry midnight charm'd the silent air; In vain the wild-bird caroll'd on the steep, To hail the sun, slow wheeling from the deep; In vain, to soothe the solitary shade, Aerial notes in mingling measure play'd ; The summer wind that shook the spangled tree, The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee :Still slowly pass'd the melancholy day, And still the stranger wist not where to stray. The world was sad!-the garden was a wild! And man, the hermit, sighed-till woman smiled!

CAMPBELL.

LOVE. (Dissembled)

Think not I love him, though I ask for him; 'Tis but a peevish boy :—yet he talks well;But what care I for words? yet words do well, When he that speaks them pleases those that hear, But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him:

He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
He is not tall; yet for his years he's tall;
His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well :
There was a pretty redness in his lip;
A little riper and more lusty red

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the differ

ence

Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him

In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him: but, for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
For what had he to do to chide at me:

He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black;
And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me:

I marvel, why I answer'd not again:

But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.

SHAKSPEARE.

LOVE. (Fickleness of)

Alas-how light a cause may move Dissention between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain has tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ;

That stood the storm when waves were rough,
Yet in a sunny hour fall off,

Like ships that have gone down at sea,
When Heaven was all tranquillity!
A something light as air-a look,

A word unkind, or wrongly taken —
O! love, that tempests never shook,

A breath, a touch like this has shaken-
And ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin;
And eyes forget the gentle ray

They wore in courtship's smiling day;
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they said;
Till fast declining, one by one,
The sweetnesses of love are gone,
And hearts, so lately mingled, seem
Like broken clouds-or like the stream
That smiling left the mountains brow,

As though its waters ne'er could sever, Yet, ere it reach the plains below,

Breaks into floods that part for ever.
O you that have the charge of love,
Keep him in rosy bondage bound,
As in the fields of bliss above

He sits, with flowerets fettered round :-
Loose not a tie that round him clings,
Nor ever let him use his wings;
For even an hour, a minute's flight
Will rob the plumes of half their light,
Like that celestial bird, whose nest

Is found below far Eastern skies,Whose wings, though radiant when at rest, Lose all their glory when he flies! Some difference of this dangerous kind,By which, though light, the links that bind The fondest hearts may soon be riven; Some shadow in love's summer heaven,