HOSPITALITY.

HOURS. HOUSE.

359

HOSPITALITY.

My master is of churlish disposition,

And little recks to find the way to heaven,
By doing deeds of hospitality.

Shakspere.

Behold! his breakfasts shine with reputation;
His dinners are the wonder of the nation;
With these he treats both commoners and quality,
Who praise, where'er they go, his hospitality.

View them near

Dr. Wolcot.

At home, where all their worth and pride is plac'd; And there their hospitable fires burn clear.--Halleck.

HOURS.

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
And ask them what report they 've borne to heaven,
And how they might have borne more welcome news.
Young.
Now! it is gone.-Our brief hours travel post,
Each with its thought or deed, its Why or How:
But know, each parting hour gives up a ghost
To dwell within thee-an eternal Now!-Coleridge.

HOUSE.

Fix not thy wishes on this house of clay,

But seek a mansion in eternal day.

From the Persian of Ferdusi.

The red rose and the white are in his face,

The fatal colours of our striving houses.-Shakspere.

Summers three times eight, save one,
She had told; alas! too soon,

After so short time of breath,

To house with darkness and with death.

Milton.

Wit in northern climates will not blow,
Except, like orange trees, 't is housed from snow.

Pope.

360

HUMANITY.

HUMBLE.

HUMANITY-INHUMANITY.

A STONY adversary, an inhuman wretch,
Incapable of pity, void and empty
From every drachm of mercy.

A saint had cried out,

Even with the crown of glory in his eyes,

At such inhuman artifice of pain

As was forc'd on him.

Humanity is policy in war,

And cruelty's a prodigal, that heaps

A suicidal burthen on itself.

Shakspere.

Byron.

Dawes.

Oh, fall'n humanity! where'er is found

Thy prostrate shrine, the place is hallowed ground;
Though laid in ruins, still to thee belong
The tears that fall o'er man's oppressive wrong;
Fresh from our hearts the pitying waters roll,
And claim a kindred with each brother soul.

W. J. Brock.

HUMBLE.

MIGHTY proud to humble weak does yield.-Spenser.

He should be humble who would please.

Prior.

The example of the heavenly lark,

Thy fellow poet, Cowley, mark!

Above the skies let thy proud music sound,

Thy humble nest build on the ground.

Cowley.

Many a flower by man unseen

Gladdens lone recesses;

Many a nameless brook makes green

Haunts its beauty blesses;

Many a scattered seed on earth
Brings forth fruit where needed,

Such the humble christian's worth,
By the world unheeded.

B. Barton.

HUMILITY.

HUMILITY.

WOULD I had trod the humble path; the shrub
Securely grows, the tallest tree stands most
In the wind: and thus we distinguish the
Noble from the base: the noble find their
Lives and deaths still troublesome;
But humility doth sleep, whilst the storm
Grows hoarse with scolding.

361

Sir W. Davenant.

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness and humility.

Humility, that low sweet root,

From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

The bird that soars on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
And she that doth most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest:
In lark and nightingale we see
What honour hath humility.

Shakspere.

Moore.

J. Montgomery.

So she, low-toned; while with shut eyes I lay
Listening; then look'd. Pale was the perfect face;
The bosom with long sighs labour'd, and meek
Seem'd the full lips, and mild the luminous eyes;
And the voice trembled, and the hand. She said
Brokenly, that she knew it, she had fail'd,

In sweet humility; had fail'd in all;
That all her labour was but as a block
Left in the quarry.

The loaded bee the lowest flies;
The richest pearl the deepest lies;
The stalk the most replenished

Doth bow the most its modest head:
Thus deep humility we find
The mark of every master-mind;
The highest gifted lowliest bends,
And merit meekest condescends,

Tennyson.

And shuns the fame that fools adore,-
That puff that bids the feather soar.

Colton.

362

HUMOUR. HUNGER. HUNTING.

HUMOUR.

Ir is the curse of kings to be attended By slaves, who take their humours for a warrant To break into the blood-house of life.

Shakspere.

In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,
Thou 'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow;
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee,
There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
From Martial.

Examine how your humour is inclined,
And which the ruling passion of your mind.

Roscommon.

HUNGER.

THEN but forbear your food a little,
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp'd in pure love; till he be first suffic'd,
Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit!

'Tis not now who's stout and bold; But who bears hunger best, and cold; And he's approv'd the most deserving, Who longest can hold out at starving.

Shakspere.

Butler.

HUNTING.

THE hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.
Shakspere.

Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods,
First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace,
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind.

Bold Nimrod first the savage chase began,
A mighty hunter, and his game was man.

Milton.

Pope.

HUSBAND.

HYPOCRISY.

363

HUSBAND.

Look here upon this picture, and on this:
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers:
See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye, like Mars, to threaten or command;
A station, like the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination, and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man!

This is your husband.-Look you now what follows;
There was your husband-like a mildew'd ear
Blasting his wholesome brother.

Marry! no, faith; husbands are like lots in
The lottery, you may draw forty blanks
Before you find one that has any prize
In him; a husband generally is a
Careless domineering thing, that grows like
Coral; which as long as it is under water
Is soft and tender; but as soon

Shakspere.

As it has got its branch above the waves,
Is presently hard, stiff, not to be bow'd.-Marston.

HYPOCRISY.

HYPOCRISY, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,

By His permissive will, through heav'n and earth,
And oft though wisdom wakes, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity

Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill,
Where no ill seems.

Why didst thou choose the cursed sin

Hypocrisy to set up in?

Because it is the thriving'st calling,
The only saints' bell that rings all in,
In which all churches are concerned,
And is the easiest to be learned.

Milton.

Butler.