That agitates my soul. I find in all
Some peril still to dread. I choose, and then
My choice repent; and then again regret
Having repented; while protracted _doubt_
Wearies her mind, so that the ill from good
No longer I distinguish; till at length
The flight of time impels me to the worst!
_From the Italian of Pietre Metastasio._
_Doubt!_ anarch old, that staggers all--
The mighty vulgar as the small,
Claims from all hearts th’ allegiance won,
Yet satisfaction gives to none;
And still resisted, still must reign,
Dreaded, abhorred, reviled in vain;
Sole tyrant he, that still must thrive,
While any of his subjects live;
The stoutest arm he fastest binds,
Still strongest in the strongest minds;
Who struggles hardest, suffers most;
And tightens bands be cannot burst.
_C. C. Colton._
DREAD--DREADFUL.
Shall not his excellency make you afraid? and his _dread_ fall upon
you?--Job, xiii. 11.
Withdraw thine hand far from me: and let not thy _dread_ make me
afraid.--Job, xiii. 21.
They were so high, that they were _dreadful_.--Ezekiel, i. 18.
I am a great King, saith the Lord of hosts, and my name is _dreadful_
among the heathen.--Malachi, i. 14.
Next saw we _Dread_, all trembling, how he shook,
With foot uncertain, proffer’d here and there;
Benumb’d with speech; and with a ghastly look,
Search’d every place, all pale and _dread_ for fear;
His cap borne up with starting of his hair;
’Stoun’d and amazed at his own share for _dread_,
And fearing greater dangers than was need.
_Sackville._
Thou attended gloriously from Heaven,
Shall in the sky appear, and from thee send
The summoning archangels to proclaim
Thy _dread_ tribunal.
_Milton._
Who the Creator love, created might
_Dread_ not; within their tents no terrors walk.
_Coleridge._
As if a lark should suddenly drop dead
While the blue air yet trembled with his song,
So snapped at once that music’s golden thread,
Struck by a nameless fear, that leapt along
From heart to heart, and like a shadow sped
With instantaneous shiver through the throng;
So that some glanced behind, as half aware
A hideous shape of _dread_ were standing there.
As when a crowd of pale men gather round,
Watching an eddy in the leaden deep,
From which they deemed the body of one drowned
Will be cast forth; from face to face doth creep
An eager _dread_, that holds all tongues fast bound,
Until the horror, with a ghastly leap,
Starts up, its dead blue arms stretched aimlessly,
Heaved with the swinging of the careless sea.
_J. R. Lowell._
DUST.
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto
the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for _dust_ thou art, and
unto _dust_ shalt thou return.--Genesis, iii. 19.
All flesh shall perish together, and man shall turn again unto
_dust_.--Job, xxxiv. 15.
All go unto one place; all are of the _dust_, and all turn to _dust_
again.--Ecclesiastes, iii. 20.
Then shall the _dust_ return to the earth as it was: and the spirit
shall return unto God who gave it.--Ecclesiastes, xii. 7.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to _dust_.
_Shakspere._
Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame,
Earth’s highest station ends in “here he lies;”
And “_dust_ to _dust_” concludes her noblest song.
_Young._
What is this passing scene?
A peevish April day!
A little sun--a little rain,
And then night sweeps along the plain,
And all things fade away.
Man (soon discussed,)
Yields up his trust,
And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the _dust_.
Then, since this world is vain,
And volatile and fleet,
Why should I lay up worldly joys,
When _dust_ corrupts, and moth destroys,
And cares and sorrows eat?
Why fly from ill
With anxious skill,
When soon the hand will freeze, the throbbing heart be still?
_H. K. White._
DUTY.
Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole _duty_ of
man.--Ecclesiastes, xii. 13.
So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are
commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that
which was our _duty_ to do.--Luke, xvii. 10.
Who shall, O God! ascend thy holy hill?
Ev’n he whose hands are clean, whose heart is pure,
Faithful of Word, and _dutiful_ of Will.
_J. A. Heraud._
Between ourselves and our desires, too oft,
We build a wall impassable. We mar
By futile artifice what honest skill
In either would alone effect.--Straight on,
And up the mountain, heavenwards aloft,
Should be the chosen path; however far
The goal may be; to reach it wants but will
To trust in God, and prudent courage drawn
From honourable purpose. Hard may be
The track, and steep to climb, but walls are none
To scale, nor ladders lack we, ’midst the chill
Of mental Alps, but only eyes to see
These words of truth light-written in the sun--
“The path of _duty_ aye runs up the hill.”
_Calder Campbell._
Rugged strength and radiant beauty--
These were one in nature’s plan;
Humble toil and heavenward _duty_--
These will form the perfect man.
_Mrs. Hale._
Stern daughter of the voice of God!
O _Duty_! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou who art victory and law
When empty terrors overawe,
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice.
_Wordsworth._
DWELL--DWELLING.
Depart from evil, and do good; and _dwell_ for evermore.--Psalm xxxvii.
27.
My people shall _dwell_ in a peaceable habitation, and in sure
_dwellings_, and in quiet resting-places.--Isaiah, xxxii. 18.
No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God
_dwelleth_ in us, and his love is perfected in us.
Hereby know we that we _dwell_ in him, and he in us, because he hath
given us of his Spirit.--I. John, iv. 12, 13.
I prais’d the sea, whose ample field
Shone glorious as a silver shield;
I prais’d the earth in beauty seen,
With garlands gay of various green;
And earth and ocean seem’d to say,
“Our beauties are but for a day.”
I prais’d the sun, whose chariot roll’d
On wheels of amber and of gold:
I prais’d the moon, whose softer eye
Gleam’d sweetly through the summer sky;
And moon and sun in answer said,
“Our days of light are numbered.”
O God! O good beyond compare!
If thus thy meaner works are fair;
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruin’d earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be,
Where thy redeem’d shall _dwell_ with thee.
_Bishop Heber._
O, come and _dwell_ with me,
Spirit of power within,
And bring the glorious liberty
From sorrow, fear, and sin.
_Wesley._
Think on th’ eternal home
The Saviour left for you;
Think on the Lord most holy, come
To _dwell_ with hearts untrue.
So shall ye tread untired his pastoral ways,
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise.
_Keble._
EARTH.
And God called the dry land _Earth_.--Genesis, i. 10.
The _earth_ is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they
that dwell therein.--Psalm xxiv. 1.
The _earth_, O Lord, is full of thy mercy.--Psalm cxix. 64.
The _earth_ shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters
cover the sea.--Isaiah, xi. 9.
The _earth_ also and the works that are therein shall be burned
up.--II. Peter, iii. 10.
Unconstant _Earth_! why do not mortals cease
To build their hopes upon so short a lease?
Uncertain lease, whose term but once begun,
Tells never when it ends till it be done:
We dote upon thy smiles, not knowing why,
And whiles we but prepare to live, we die:
We spring like flowers for a day’s delight,
At noon we flourish, and we fade at night:
We toil for kingdoms, conquer crowns, and then
We that were Gods, but now, now less than men.
If wisdom, learning, knowledge, cannot dwell
Secure from change, vain bubble _earth_, farewell.
_Francis Quarles._
_Earth’s_ cup
Is poisoned; her renown, most infamous;
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust;
Her titles, slanderous names; her praise, reproach;
Her strength, an idiot’s boast; her wisdom, blind;
Her gain, eternal loss; her hope, a dream;
Her love, her friendship, enmity with God;
Her promises, a lie; her smile, a harlot’s;
Her beauty, paint, and rotten within; her pleasures,
Deadly assassins masked; her laughter, grief;
Her breasts, the stings of death; her total sum,
Her all, most total vanity.
_Pollok._
And had _earth_, then, no joys? no native sweets,
No happiness, that one who spoke the truth,
Might call her own? She had, true native sweets,
Indigenous delights, which up the Tree
Of Holiness, embracing as they grew,
Ascended, and bore fruit of Heavenly taste.
_Pollok._
Lean not on _earth_; ’t will pierce thee to the heart:
A broken reed at best, but oft a spear:
On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires.
There’s nothing here but what as nothing weighs;
The more our joy, the more we know it vain;
And by success are tutored to despair.
Nor is it only thus, but must be so.
Who knows not this, though grey, is still a child;
Loose then from _earth_ the grasp of fond desire,
Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore.
_Young._
_Earth_, thou great footstool of our God
Who reigns on high; thou fruitful source
Of all our raiment, life, and food,
Our house, our parent, and our nurse.
Mighty stage of mortal scenes,
Drest with strong and gay machines,
Hung with golden lamps around,
And flowery carpets spread the ground--
Thou bulky globe, prodigious map,
That hangs unpillared in an empty space,
While thy unwieldly weight hangs in the feeble air,
Bless that Almighty word that fix’d and holds thee there.
_Watts._
A puff of honour fills the mind,
And yellow dust is solid good;
Thus, like the ass of savage kind,
We snuff the breezes of the wind,
Or steal the serpent’s food.
Could all the choirs
That charms the poles
But strike one doleful sound,
’T would be employed to mourn our souls;
Souls that were formed of sprightly fires
In floods of folly drowned.
Souls made of glory seek a brutal joy;
How they disclaim their heavenly birth,
Melt their bright substance down with drossy _earth_,
And hate to be refined from that impure alloy.
_Watts._
There are wondrous things on the aged _earth_; ’tis speeding
to its close;
From the very heart of the prosperous world the prophet-thunder
grows;
And as this sphere whirls round and round upon its endless way,
And as the laws of the universe from their boundless centres sway,
From the everlasting hills of heaven look down a seraph-race,
And gaze upon the mighty change that speaks aloud through space:
With joy they hymn the Eternal, in whose embrace they live,
And strike the harp to him who loves to pity and forgive.
Stands the archangel Lucifer on a stormy planet near,
And the hollow sound of his mighty voice fills many worlds with
fear;
“Vain _earth_,” he said, “thy pigmy lords may strive from
thee to rise,
May gasp their hopes in frequent verse, they half philosophize,
Build temples to the monarch steam, be victors o’er the sea--
Their pride, their power shall disappear at one dark glance from
me!
O for the fierce wild rapture of that fast approaching day,
When man and his brief dwelling in the storm are swept away.”
Far in the centre of all space burns the eternal throne,
Where God, unseen, ineffable, dwells in his light alone.
“My Son,” the one existence saith, “_earth_ speeds its course
to thee,
And soon beneath thy rule of love its kingdoms shall be free.
The demons dream of fury, of swift, consuming fire,
Dream that the spirit of the Lord is stern resentful ire:
But the whole universe shall know that mercy is divine--
Beloved Son! Men, angels, friends, for evermore are thine.”
_Carrera._
I believe this _earth_ on which we stand
Is but the vestibule to glorious mansions,
Through which a moving crowd for ever press.
_Joanna Baillie._
As trees beneath the soil must shoot,
Before they form the grove,
So man in _earth_ must spread his root,
That hopes to bloom above.
_Thomas Ward._
_Earth_ hath of thee had glimpses, shaped to suit
The contemplative Spirit, suffering
From occultation of the absolute,
The shadow of the spiritual thing
That passing, veils the Truth. Let it pass on!
Shine forth, O Sun! the universal King,
Intelligible God. Thy steadfast Throne
For ever is immovable, and _Earth_
Light from thine aspect borrows, and, anon,
In constant revolution, giveth birth
To darkness, not forsaken: for the Moon
And Stars reflect thy glory faintly forth,
In night, most holy night, in whose high noon
Majestic Heaven itself alone reveals
To faith,--a starry spell,--a visible tune,--
Until thy reappearing opes the seals
Of the mysterious Tome, and supersedes
Their borrowed lights--their spirit-motioned wheels.
Yet are they God’s! how happy he who reads
Their office rightly;--oracles _Earth_ hears
In visionary slumber, hears and heeds;
The Deities of darkness, on the spheres
Enthroned, Angels of Night, whose choral gleams
Echo the word unto the worlds He cheers.
_J. A. Heraud._
ELEMENTS.
Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the _elements_
of the world.--Galatians, iv. 3.
But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how
turn ye again to the weak and beggarly _elements_, whereunto ye desire
again to be in bondage?--Galatians, iv. 9.
But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which
the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the _elements_
shall melt with fervent heat.--II. Peter, iii. 10.
I cavilled at the _elements_--what is earth?
A huge congestion of unmethodized matter
With but a skin of life--a mighty solid,
Which nature’s prodigal of space provides
For superficial uses; and what air?
A motion and a pressure; fire? a change;
And light? the language of the things called dumb.
Last came the troubled question--what am I?
A blade, a sapling of the growth of life
Wherewith the outside of the earth is covered;
A comprehensive atom, all the world
In act of thought embracing; in the world
A grain scarce filling a particular place.
_Henry Taylor._
Father, I know my frame is all composed
Of _elements_ that perish; and I know
The bondage whereunto my grovelling soul
Still turns, in spite of higher aspirations.
Oh, grant me strength to burst the chains of sense!
That in the _elemental_ wreck to come,
I may not perish utterly, but live
To praise and bless Thee for my great salvation.
_Egone._
Let every _element_ rejoice;
Ye thunders, burst with awful voice
To Him who bade you roll.
His praise in softened notes declare,
Each whispering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the soul.
_Ogilvie._
ENVY.
Be not thou _envious_ against evil men, neither desire to be with
them.--Proverbs, xxiv. 1.
Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous; but who is able to stand
before _envy_?--Proverbs, xxvii. 4.
But Pilate answered them, saying, Will ye that I release unto you the
King of the Jews?
For he knew that the chief priests had delivered him for _envy_.--Mark,
xv. 9, 10.
For where _envying_ and strife is, there is confusion and every evil
work.--James, iii. 16.
And next to him malicious _Envy_ rode
Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw
Between his cankered teeth a venomous tode,
That all the poison ran about his jaw:
But inwardly he chawed his own maw
At neighbour’s wealth that made him ever sad,
For death it was when any good he saw;
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had;
And when he heard of harme he waxed wondrous glad.
_Spenser._
I _envy_ not their hap
Whom favour doth advance;
I take no pleasure in their pain
That have less happy chance.
To rise by others’ fall
I deem a losing gain;
All states with others’ ruin built,
To ruin run amain.
_Southwell._
Here are no false entrapping baits,
To hasten too, too hasty fates;
Unless it be
The fond credulity
Of silly fish, which, worldling like, still look
Upon the bait, but never on the hook:
Nor _envy_, unless among
The birds, for prize of their sweet song.
_Sir Walter Raleigh._
For every thing contains within itself
The seeds and sources of its own corruption;
The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel;
The moth frets out your garment, and the worm
Eats its slow way into the solid oak:
But _Envy_, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever,
Saps and consumes the heart in which it works.
_Cumberland._
_Envy_’s a sharper spur than pay,
And, unprovok’d,’t will court the fray.
* * * * *
Fools may our scorn, not _envy_, raise,
For _envy_ is a kind of praise.
* * * * *
Canst thou discern another’s mind?
What is’t you _envy_? _Envy_’s blind.
Tell _Envy_, when she would annoy,
That thousands want what you enjoy.
_Gay._
The lion craved the fox’s art;
The fox the lion’s force and heart;
The cock implored the pigeon’s flight,
Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light;
The pigeon strength of wing despised,
And the cock’s matchless valour prized.
The fishes wish’d to graze the plain;
The beasts to skim beneath the main.
Thus, _envious_ of another’s state,
Each blam’d the partial hand of fate.
_Gay._
Slander’d in vain, enjoy the spleen of foes;
Let these from _envy_ hate--from interest those!
Guilt, like the first, your gratitude requires,
Since none can _envy_ till he first admires;
And nature tells the last his crime is none,
Who to your interest but prefers his own.
_Aaron Hill._
What made the man of _Envy_ what he was,
Was worth in others, vileness in himself,
A lust of praise, with undeserving deeds,
And conscience poverty of soul; and still
It was his earnest work and daily toil,
With lying tongue, to make the noble seem
Mean as himself.
_Pollok._
ERROR.
Who can understand his _errors_? cleanse thou me from secret
faults.--Psalm xix. 12.
For the vile person will speak villany, and his heart will work
iniquity, to practise hypocrisy, and to utter _error_ against the
Lord.--Isaiah, xxxii. 6.
Beware lest ye also, being led away with the _error_ of the wicked,
fall from your own stedfastness.--II. Peter, iii. 17.
A good that never satisfies the mind,
A beauty fading like the April flowers,
A sweet with floods of gall that runs combined,
A pleasure passing ere in thought made ours,
An honour that more fickle is than wind,
A glory at opinion’s frown that lowers,
A treasury which bankrupt time devours,
A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind;
A vain delight our equals to command,
A style of greatness, in effect a dream,
A swelling thought of holding sea and land,
A servile lot, decked with a pompous name;
Are the strange ends we toil for here below,
Till wisest death makes us our _errors_ know.
_Drummond._
Swifter than feathered arrow in the wind,
Than winged vessel on the yielding tide,
Than river shooting down the mountain side,
Than foot o’er champaign of the slender hind,
To _error’s_ flowery vale, the headlong mind
Is prone, without a curb, to fly aside;
Neither by dangers of the path untried,
Nor roughest road, nor highest Alp confined.
But if the way of truth upon the right
It follows, like slow worm, or bird unfledged,
At every twig it checks, and stone, and rill.
Great guide! make strong my pinions for the flight
In that true course; by every other hedged,
And lift and bring me to thy holy hill!
_From the Italian of Tarsia._
“But what is _error_?--Answer he who can!”
The Sceptic somewhat haughtily exclaimed:
“Love, Hope, and Admiration--are they not
Mad Fancy’s favourite vassals? Does not life
Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin,
Guides to destruction? Is it well to trust
Imagination’s light when Reason’s fails,
The unguarded taper where the guarded faints?
--Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare
What _error_ is; and of our _errors_, which
Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats
Of power, where are they? Who shall regulate,
With truth, the scale of intellectual rank?”
_Wordsworth._
Thus _error’s_ monstrous shapes from earth are driven;
They fade, they fly--but truth survives their flight;
Earth has no shades to quench that beam of heaven;
Each ray that shone, in early time, to light
The faltering footsteps in the path of right,
Each gleam of clearer, brightness, shed to aid
In man’s maturer day his bolder sight,
All blended, like the rainbow’s radiant braid,
Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot fade.
_W. C. Bryant._
_Error_ is a hardy plant; it flourisheth in every soil;
In the heart of the wise and good, alike with the wicked and
foolish:
For there is no _error_ so crooked, but it hath in it some
lines of truth:
Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some wholesome
use:
And the just man, enamoured of the right, is blinded by the
speciousness of wrong,
And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is content to overlook
the harm.
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God,
Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of
corruption:
And if _error_ cometh in like a flood, it mixeth with the streams
of truth;
And the adversary loveth to have it so, for thereby many are
decoyed.
_Martin F. Tupper._
ESTATE.
O give thanks unto the God of Gods: for His mercy endureth for ever.
Who remembered us in our low _estate_: for His mercy endureth for
ever.--Psalm cxxxvi. 2, 23.
And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the low _estate_ of His handmaiden.--Luke, i. 46,
47, 48.
Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low _estate_.--Romans,
xii. 16.
Go, miser! go; for lucre sell thy soul;
Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole,
That men may say, when thou art dead and gone,
See what a vast _estate_ he left his son.
_Dryden._
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er _estate_,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do,
For the Lord on whom I wait.
_Ann L. Waring._
Oh yes! I have a goodly heritage,
A vast _estate_ is mine;
My title deeds are on the sacred page,
Writ by a hand divine.
The land is fruitful, yielding all things good,
An overflowing store;
To satisfy the utmost wish, nor could
My spirit ask for more.
’Tis in a pleasant country--this _estate_--
Of ever-new delight;
No storms are there to chill and devastate,
There comes no gloomy night.
My tenor is inviolate; for death
Signs, seals, and opes the door,
That me into possession ushereth,
There to dwell evermore.
_Egone._
ETERNITY.
For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth _eternity_, whose
name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place.--Isaiah, lvii. 15.
For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands,
_eternal_ in the heavens.--II. Corinthians, v. 1.
Of that same time when no more change shall be,
But stedfastly rest all things, firmly stayed
Upon the pillars of _eternity_,
That is contraire to mutability;
For all that moveth doth in change delight;
But thenceforth all shall rest _eternally_,
With Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight.
_Spenser._
Him, blessed Shepherd,
His flocks shall follow through the maze of life,
And shades that tend to day spring from on high;
And as the radiant roses, after fading,
In fuller foliage, and more fragrant breath,
Revive in smiling spring, so shall it be
With those that love Him: for sweet is their savour,
And all _eternity_ shall be their spring.
_Smart._
Man, (mortal creature,) fram’d to feel decays,
Thine unresisted power at pleasure sways,
Thou say’st return, and parting souls obey,
Thou say’st return, and bodies fall to-day.
For what’s a thousand fleeting years with Thee?
Or Time compared with long _eternity_?
Whose wings expanding infinitely vast,
O’erstretched its utmost ends of first and last.
_Parnell._
We strive with earthly imagings,
To reach and understand
The wondrous and the fearful things
Of an _eternal_ land.
But soon the doubt, the toil, the strife
Of earth shall all be done,
And knowledge of our endless life
Be in a moment won.
_Otway Curry._
Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
’Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates _eternity_ to man.
_Addison._
The _Eternal_ Life, beyond the sky,
Wealth cannot purchase, nor the high
And proud estate;
The soul in dalliance laid,--the spirit
Corrupt with sin,--shall not inherit
A joy so great.
_Longfellow, from the Spanish._
Our better nature pineth--let it be!
Thou human soul--earth is no home for thee;
Thy starry rest is in _eternity_.
_Miss Landon._