o your quickened limbs her buoyant breath!
Who does not act is dead; absorpt entire
In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath:
O leaden-hearted men to be in love with death!
_The Castle of Indolence, Canto II_. J. THOMSON.

My nature is subdued
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
_Sonnet CXI_. SHAKESPEARE.

Mechanic slaves
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers.
_Antony and Cleopatra, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

How many a rustic Milton has passed by,
Stifling the speechless longings of his heart,
In unremitting drudgery and care!
How many a vulgar Cato has compelled
His energies, no longer tameless then,
To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail!
_Queen Mab, Pt. V_. P.B. SHELLEY.

If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work.
_King Henry, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you,
But yet, 'tis one.

MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain.
_Macbeth. Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Cheered with the view, man went to till the ground
From, whence he rose; sentenced indeed to toil,
As to a punishment, yet (even in wrath,
So merciful is heaven) this toil became
The solace of his woes, the sweet employ
Of many a livelong hour, and surest guard
Against disease and death.
_Death_. B. PORTEUS.

Like a lackey, from the rise to set,
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
And follows so the ever-running year
With profitable labor to his grave.
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
Hath the forehand and vantage of a king.
_King Henry V., Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

When Adam dolve, and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman? [A]
J. BALL.

[Footnote A: Lines used by John Ball, to encourage the rebels in Wat
Tyler's rebellion. Hume's _History of England_, Vol. i.]

Joy to the Toiler!--him that tills
The fields with Plenty crowned;
Him with the woodman's axe that thrills
The wilderness profound.
_Songs of the Toiler_. B. HATHAWAY.

LAW.

In the corrupted currents of this world
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above;
There is no shuffling, there the action lies