' goo to settle;
Sic wersh apothecary's broos wi'
As Scotsmen scorn to fyle their moo's wi'.
_The Scotman's Return from Abroad_ R.L. STEVENSON.

This bottle's the sun of our table,
His beams are rosy wine;
We planets that are not able,
Without his help to shine.
_The Duenna, Act iii. Sc_. 5. R.B. SHERIDAN.

Now to rivulets from the mountains
Point the rods of fortune-tellers;
Youth perpetual dwells in fountains,
Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars.
_Drinking Song_ H.W. LONGFELLOW.

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disordered rest.
_Solomon, Bk. II_. M. PRIOR.

And now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
To start my quiet.
_Othello, Act i. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

He that is drunken....
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.
_The Temple: The Church Porch_. G. HERBERT.

A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em,
To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.
_The Revenger's Tragedy, Act iii. Sc. 1_. C. TOURNEUR.

I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet.
_Tempest, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Of my merit
On thet point you yourself may jedge;
All is, I never drink no sperit,
Nor I hain't never signed no pledge.
_The Biglow Papers, First Series, No. VII_.
J.R. LOWELL.

DUTY.

So nigh is grandeur to our dust,
So near is God to man,
When Duty whispers low, _Thou must_,
The youth replies, _I can_.
_Voluntaries_. R.W. EMERSON.

Not once or twice in our rough island story,
The path of duty was the way to glory.
_Ode: Death of the Duke of Wellington_. A. TENNYSON.

When I'm not thanked at all, I'm thanked enough:
I've done my duty, and I've done no more.
_Tom Thumb_. H. FIELDING.

And I read the moral--A brave endeavor
To do thy duty, whate'er its worth,
Is better than life with love forever,
And love is the sweetest thing on earth.
_Sir Hugo's Choice_. J.J. ROCHE.

DYING.

The slender debt to nature's quickly paid,
Discharged, perchance, with greater ease than made.
_Emblems, Bk. II_.13. F. QUARLE