ad my hour.
_Imitation of Horace, Bk, I. Ode XXIX_. J. DRYDEN.

Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what's done is done.
_Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were,

* * * * *

A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

This is the place. Stand still, my steed,
Let me review the scene,
And summon from the shadowy Past
The forms that once have been.
_A Gleam of Sunshine_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Applause
To that blest son of foresight: lord of fate!
That awful independent on to-morrow
Whose work is done; who triumphs in the past;
Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
_Night Thoughts, Night II_. DR. E. YOUNG.

For time is like a fashionable host,
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly,
Grasps-in the comer. Welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing.
_Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

PATIENCE.

Endurance is the crowning quality,
And patience all the passion of great hearts.
_Columbus_. J.R. LOWELL.

His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.
_The Borough_. G. CRABBE.

'Tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that ring under the load of sorrow.
But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
To be so moral when he shall endure
The like himself.
_Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

And I must bear
What is ordained with patience, being aware
Necessity doth front the universe
With an invincible gesture.
_Prometheus Bound_. E.B. BROWNING.

How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
_Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

I will with patience hear, and find a time
Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
_Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

I worked with patience, which means almost power.
_Aurora Leigh, Bk. III_. E.B. BROWNING.

Or arm th' obdured breast
With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill.
_The Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Patience, my lord! why, 't is the soul of peace;
Of