PROUD HUMILITY.

In proud humility a pious man went through the field;
The ears of corn were bowing in the wind, as if they kneeled;
He struck them on the head, and modestly began to say,
"Unto the Lord, not unto me, such honors should you pay."

FOLLY FOR ONE'S SELF.

He who is only for his neighbors wise,
While his own soul in sad confusion lies,
Is like those men who builded Noah's ark,
But sank, themselves, beneath the waters dark.

THE IMPOSSIBILITY.

When I shall see, though clad in gold or silk,
In peace and joy a wicked man or maid,
I then shall drink a bowl of pigeon's milk,
And eat the yellow eggs the ox has laid.

THE SOBER DRUNKENNESS.

Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety,
And go get drunk with that divine intoxication
Which is more sober far than all sobriety.

A WINE-DRINKER'S METAPHORS.

As the nightingale oft from a rose's dew sips,
So I wet with fresh wine my belanguishing lips.

As the soul of perfume through a flower's petals slips,
So pure wine passes through the rose-door of my lips.

As to port from afar float the full-loaded ships,
So this wine-beaker drifts to the strand of my lips.

As the white-driven sea o'er a cliff's edges drips,
So the red-tinted wine breaks in foam on my lips.

FROM MIRTSA SCHAFFY.

Better stars without shine,

Than shine without stars.

Better wine without jars,

Than the jars without wine.
Better honey without bees,
Than the bees without honey.
Better please without money,
Than have money but not please.

THE DOUBLE PLOT.

Three hungry travellers found a bag of gold;
One ran into the town where bread was sold.

He thought, I will poison the bread I buy,
And seize the treasure when my comrades die.

But they too thought, When back his feet have hied,
We will destroy him and the gold divide.

They killed him; and, partaking of the bread,
In a few moments all were lying dead.

O world! behold what ill thy goods have done;
Thy gold thus poisoned two, and murdered one.

THE WORLD'S UNAPPRECIATION.

The lyrical poems of the East called Ghazels, of which the following, from the French, is a brief specimen, have this peculiarity, that the first two lines rhyme, and for this rhyme recurs a new one in the second line of each succeeding couplet, the alternate lines being free :

What is the good man and the wise?
Ofttimes a pearl which none doth prize;
Or jewel rare, which men account
A common pebble, and despise.
Set forth upon the world's bazaar,
It mildly gleams, but no one buys,
Till it in anger Heaven withdraws
From the world's undiscerning eyes,
And in its shell the pearl again,
And in its mine the jewel, lies.

THE CALIPH AND SATAN.

In heavy sleep the Caliph lay,

When some one called, "Arise and pray !"

The angry Caliph cried, "Who dare
Rebuke his king for slighted prayer?"

Then, from the corner of the room,

A voice cut sharply through the gloom :-
"My name is Satan. Rise! obey
Mohammed's law: Awake and pray."

"Thy words are good," the Caliph said,
"But their intent I somewhat dread;

For matters cannot well be worse

Than when the thief says, 'Guard your purse.'

I cannot trust your counsel, friend:

It surely hides some wicked end."

Said Satan, "Near the throne of God,
In ages past, we devils trod;

Angels of light, to us 'twas given

To guide each wandering foot to Heaven;

Not wholly lost is that first love,

Nor those pure tastes we knew above.

Roaming across a continent,

The Tartar moves his shifting tent,

But never quite forgets the day
When in his father's arms he lay;
So we, once bathed in love divine,
Recall the taste of that rich wine.
God's finger rested on my brow,-
That magic touch, I feel it now!

I fell, 'tis true,-Oh, ask not why!
For still to God I turn my eye;

It was a chance by which I fell:
Another takes me back to hell.
'Twas but my envy of mankind,
The envy of a loving mind.
Jealous of men, I could not bear
God's love with this new race to share.

But yet God's tables open stand,

His guests flock in from every land.

Some kind act toward the race of men
May toss us into heaven again.

A game of chess is all we see,

And God the player, pieces we.

White, black,-queen, pawn,-'tis all the same;

For on both sides he plays the game.

Moved to and fro, from good to ill,
We rise and fall as suits his will."

The Caliph said, "If this be so
I know not; but thy guile I know;
For how can I thy words believe,
When even GOD thou didst deceive?

A sea of lies art thou,-our sin,
Only a drop that sea within."

"Not so," said Satan: "I serve God,
His angel now, and now his rod.

In tempting, I both bless and curse,
Make good men better, bad men worse.
Good coin is mixed with bad, my brother,
I but distinguish one from th' other."
"Granted," the Caliph said; "but still
You never tempt to good, but ill.

Tell, then, the truth; for well I know
You come as my most deadly foe."
Loud laughed the fiend. "You know me well;
Therefore my purpose will I tell :

If you had missed your prayer, I knew
A swift repentance would ensue;

And such repentance would have been
A good, outweighing far the sin.

I chose this humbleness divine,
Born out of fault, should not be thine;
Preferring prayers elate with pride,
To sin with penitence allied."

Epigrams.

ON BUTLER'S MONUMENT.

WHILE Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive,

No generous patron would a dinner give.

See him, when starved to death and turned to dust,
Presented with a monumental bust.

The poet's fate is here in emblem shown:

He asked for bread, and he received a stone.-S. WESLEY.

TO A BLOCKHEAD.

You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come;

Knock as you please, there's nobody at home.-POPE.

INSCRIBED ON A STATUE TO SLEEP.

Somne levis, quanquam certissima mortis imago,
Consortem cupio te tamen esse tori,

Alma quies, optata, veni, nam sic sine vita

Vivere quam suave est, sic sine morte mori.-WARTON. [Light sleep, though death's strong image, prythee give Thy fellowship while in my couch I lie;

O gentle, wished-for rest, how sweet to live

Thus without life, and without death to die !]*

TO DR. ROBERT FREIND, WHO WROTE LONG EPITAPHS.
Freind, for your epitaphs I'm grieved,

Where still so much is said:

One half will never be believed,

The other never read.-POPE.

THE FOOL AND THE POET.

Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool;

But you yourself may serve to show it
That every fool is not a poet.-POPE.

DUM VIVIMUS VIVAMUS.

Live while you live, the epicure would say,
And seize the pleasures of the present day.
Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries,
And give to God each moment as it flies.

Lord, in my view let both united be;

I live in pleasure while I live to thee.-DODDRIdge.

A celebrated "beauty, scholar, and wit," who spoke in praise of liberty.
Liber ut esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria:

Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale!-DR. JOHNSON.
[Freedom you teach, fair Mary. To be free,
Farewell, lest I should be enslaved by thee!]

ON ONE IGNORANT AND ARROGANT.

Thou mayst of double ignorance boast,

Who knowst not that thou nothing knowst.-OWEN, Trans. by Cowper.

Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary's prayer,
And, though death's image, to my couch repair;
How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie,

And, without dying, oh, how sweet to die!- Wolcot's Trans.

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