anto XXXIV_, LORD BYRON.

Drink ye to her that each loves best,
And if you nurse a flame
That's told but to her mutual breast,
We will not ask her name.
_Drink ye to her_. T. CAMPBELL.

FERDINAND.--Here's my hand.
MIRANDA.--And mine, with my heart in it.
_Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

MAN.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful, is man!

* * * * *

A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt!
Though sullied and dishonored, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite!
A worm! a god!

* * * * *

What can preserve my life? or what destroy?
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave;
Legions of angels can't confine me there.
_Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nature they say, doth dote,
And cannot make a man
Save on some worn-out plan,
Repeating as by rote.
_Commemoration Ode_. J.R. LOWELL.

Man is the nobler growth our realms supply,
And souls are ripened in our northern sky.
_The Invitation_. MRS. A.L. BARBAULD.

'Tis God gives skill,
But not without men's hands: He could not make
Antonio Stradivari's violins
Without Antonio.
_Stradivarius_. GEORGE ELIOT.

Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise;
Such men as live in these degenerate days.
_Iliad, Bk. V_. HOMER. _Trans. of POPE_.

Be wise with speed:
A fool at forty is a fool indeed.
_Love of Fame, Satire II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

What tho' short thy date?
Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures.
That life is long which answers life's great end.
The time that bears no fruit deserves no name.
The man of wisdom is the man of years.
In hoary youth Methusalems may die;
O, how misdated on their flatt'ring tombs!
_Night Thoughts, Night V_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Man!
Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground:
Another race the following spring supplies;
They fall successive, and successive rise.
_Iliad, Bk. VI_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of mankind is man.
* * *