Footnotes
[612:1] See Philip Sidney, page [34].
[612:2] Things are not always what they seem.—Phædrus: Fables, book iv. Fable 2.
[612:3] See Chaucer, page [6].
Art is long, life is short.—Goethe: Wilhelm Meister, vii. 9.
[612:4] Our lives are but our marches to the grave.-Beaumont and Fletcher: The Humorous Lieutenant, act iii. sc. 5.
[612:5] See Byron, page [553].
[613:1] There is a Reaper whose name is death.—Arnim and Brentano: Erntelied. (From "Des Knaben Wunderhorn," ed. 1857, vol. i. p. 59.)
[613:2] Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last.—Cervantes: Don Quixote, part ii. chap. lxxiv.
The light of Heaven restore;
Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.
Pope: The Iliad, book xvii. line 730.
[614:2] See Byron, page [553].
[616:1] See Stoughton, page [266].
[616:2] Plymouth rock.
I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
Tennyson: In Memoriam, i.
[616:4] Sir Francis Drake entered the harbour of Cadiz, April 19, 1587, and destroyed shipping to the amount of ten thousand tons lading. To use his own expressive phrase, he had "singed the Spanish king's beard."—Knight: Pictorial History of England, vol. iii. p. 215.
[617:1] See Emerson, page [601].
Wer nie sein Brod mit Thränen ass,
Wer nicht die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte.
Goethe: Wilhelm Meister, book ii. chap. xiii.
[618:1] Quoted from Cotton's "To-morrow." See Genesis xxx. 3.
[618:2] See Chaucer, page [5].
In omni adversitate fortunæ, infelicissimum genus est infortunii fuisse felicem (In every adversity of fortune, to have been happy is the most unhappy kind of misfortune).—Boethius: De Consolatione Philosophiæ, liber ii.
This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.
Tennyson: Locksley Hall, line 75.
JOHN G. WHITTIER. 1807- ——.
So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn
Which once he wore;
The glory from his gray hairs gone
For evermore!
Ichabod!
Making their lives a prayer.
To A. K. On receiving a Basket of Sea-Mosses.
And step by step, since time began,
I see the steady gain of man.
The Chapel of the Hermits.
For still the new transcends the old
In signs and tokens manifold;
Slaves rise up men; the olive waves,
With roots deep set in battle graves!
The Chapel of the Hermits.
Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time,
So "Bonnie Doon" but tarry;
Blot out the epic's stately rhyme,
But spare his "Highland Mary!"
Lines on Burns.
[[619]]
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For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"
Maud Muller.
Low stir of leaves and dip of oars
And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
Snow Bound.
The hope of all who suffer,
The dread of all who wrong.
The Mantle of St. John de Matha.
I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.
The Eternal Goodness.
SALMON P. CHASE. 1808-1873.
The Constitution, in all its provisions, looks to an indestructible Union composed of indestructible States.
Decision in Texas v. White, 7 Wallace, 725.
No more slave States; no slave Territories.
Platform of the Free Soil National Convention, 1848.
The way to resumption is to resume.
Letter to Horace Greeley, March 17, 1866.
SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH. 1808- ——.
My country, 't is of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing:
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain-side
Let freedom ring.
National Hymn.
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Our fathers' God, to thee;
Author of liberty,
To thee I sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King!
National Hymn.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 1809-1861.
There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world; oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time!
A Vision of Poets.
And Chaucer, with his infantine
Familiar clasp of things divine.
A Vision of Poets.
And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben,
Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when
The world was worthy of such men.
A Vision of Poets.
Knowledge by suffering entereth,
And life is perfected by death.
A Vision of Poets. Conclusion.
Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west.
Toll slowly.
And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness,
Round our restlessness His rest.
Rhyme of the Duchess.
Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle
Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.
Lady Geraldine's Courtship. xli.
But since he had
The genius to be loved, why let him have
The justice to be honoured in his grave.
Crowned and buried. xxvii.
[[621]]
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Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.
To George Sand. A Desire.
By thunders of white silence.
Hiram Power's Greek Slave.
And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
And eternity's despair;
And they heard the words it said,—
"Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
Pan, Pan is dead!"[621:1]
The Dead Pan.
Death forerunneth Love to win
"Sweetest eyes were ever seen."
Catarina to Camoens. ix.
She has seen the mystery hid
Under Egypt's pyramid:
By those eyelids pale and close
Now she knows what Rhamses knows.
Little Mattie. Stanza ii.
But so fair,
She takes the breath of men away
Who gaze upon her unaware.
Bianca among the Nightingales. xii.
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,
And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face,
A gauntlet with a gift in 't.
Aurora Leigh. Book ii.
The growing drama has outgrown such toys
Of simulated stature, face, and speech:
It also peradventure may outgrow
The simulation of the painted scene,
Boards, actors, prompters, gaslight, and costume,
And take for a worthier stage the soul itself,
Its shifting fancies and celestial lights,
With all its grand orchestral silences
To keep the pauses of its rhythmic sounds.
Aurora Leigh. Book v.