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I.

L.-Good health, and its associate in the most,
Good temper. Spirits prompt to undertake,
And not soon spent, though in an arduous task.

26.

G.-Doth she not watch o'er thine

every endeavor?

Leans not her heart in warm faith on thine own? If thou sit doubting and dreaming forever,

Too late thou'lt discover that her dream is flown!

C. F. Hoffman.

L.-Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss.

When day's dull round is o'er,
And sweet the music of the step

That meets us at the door.

D. R. Drake,

J.

1.

G.-Oh, woman's heart is like the rose

That glows beneath the tropic's flame,
That blooms as sweet 'mid northern snows,
Forever lovely, and the same.
Whate'er her rank, whate'er her lot,
Where'er her gentle influence ranges,
The art to bless is ne'er forgot,

The will to comfort never changes.

L.-Lady, he loves thee for thy gold,
And hates thee for thy pride;

And not until thy life is told
Not till thy heart lies still and cold,
Will be from him a blessing won,
But when life's tragedy is done,
He'll bless thee-that thou died!

E. A. Poc.

2.

G.-She is a woman-therefore may be wooed!
She is a woman-therefore may be won!

L.-To kneel in homage at your feet,

Shakspeare.

To start when rival steps draw near,
With ardent warmth your glance to meet,
And pour soft flatteries in your ear;
To woo, till won by fairer forms,

And brighter eyes, and then forsake;

J.

And while new hope new fancy warms,
To leave your trusting heart to break!

3.

G.-Take her esteem, if you on that can live,
But frankly, sir, 'tis all she has to give.

Dryden.

L. You know you love in vain, striving against hope,
Yet in this captious and intenable sieve
You still will pour the waters of your love,
And lack not to lose still; thus, Indian-like,
Religious in your error, you adore

The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
But knows of him no more.

4.

Shakspeare.

Never forget your love, but always cling
To the fixed hope that there will be a time
When you can meet unfettered, and be blest
With the full happiness of certain love.

Percival.

Gone! is the smile that once lighted thy way,
Gone! is the eye whose each look was a ray,
Gone is the heart so unchanging and true,
Gone is the lip which to thine fondly flew.

Cold! is the brow on which love has oft spoken,
Cold is the cheek, and each beauty-line broken,

J.

Cold! is the hand which to thine trembling stole,
Cold! is each nerve that once thrilled to the soul.

Dead! grows thy heart to the world's garish splendor,
To the smile of the gay, and the sigh of the tender,
To the sorrower's tear and the scorner's rude laughter,
Dead! to all hope, save of meeting hereafter!

5.

G.-Coquet and coy at once her air,

Both studied, though both seem neglected,
Careless she is with artful care,

Affecting to seem unaffected.

L.-His talk is like a stream that runs

Congreve

With rapid change from rocks to roses;
He slips from politics to puns,

Passes from Mahomet to Moses;
Beginning with the laws which keep
The planets in their radiant courses;
And ending with some precept deep
For dressing eels, or shoeing horses.

6.

Praed.

G.—Her only labor is to kill the time,

And labor dire it is, and weary woe.

Thomson.

A trade which he hopes he may use with a safe con

science, as he is indeed a mender of bad soles.

Shakspeare.

J.

7.

G.-A beautiful garden, with weeds overrun,

And an elegant fish-pond, dried up by the sun;
Then the house stands convenient enough you may say
Next door to the whisky-shop over the way.

L.-Ye'll draw a bonny silken purse,

Dibdin.

Ye'll ca' your coach, ye'll ca' your horse.

8.

G.-A form and face in which do meet

Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.

L.-Brave, not romantic,

Learned not pedantic,

Frolic not frantic,

And ever true;
Honor maintaining,
Meanness disdaining,
Still entertaining,

Engaging and new;
-Neat, but not finical,

Sage, but not cynical,

Burns.

Wordsworth.

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