H. J. Byron, in English Epigrams.
he sacred slow harmonium bring,
The gentler pianette,
The cymbals, with sonorous ring,
The dulcet flageolet.
Nor be the voice of glory dumb,
Of conquest and of strife,
Bring forth the stirring trump and drum,
The shrill and piercing fife.
Ay, bring them all, my soul with glee
To music I'll devote;
Bring all—for all are one to me,—
I cannot play a note!
Songs of Singularity.
E sometimes hate those who differ from us in opinion worse than we should for an attempt to injure us in the most serious point. A favourite theory is a possession for life; and we resent any attack upon it proportionably.
W. Hazlitt, Characteristics.
HEN Mrs. M'Gibbon was preparing to act Jane Shore, at Liverpool, her dresser, an ignorant country girl, informed her that a woman had called to request two box orders, because she and her daughter had walked four miles on purpose to see the play. "Does she know me?" inquired the mistress. "Not at all," was the reply. "What a very odd request!" exclaimed Mrs. M'G. "Has the good woman got her faculties about her?" "I think she have, ma'am, for I see she ha' got summut tied up in a red silk handkercher."