Be affable and courteous in youth, that

You may be honored in

age.

Intemp'rate youth, by sad experience found,
Ends in an age imperfect and unsound.

Lilly.

Denham.

Young men soon give and soon forget affronts-old is slow in both.

Oh the joy

age

Addison.

Of young ideas painted on the mind,
In the warm, glowing colors Fancy spreads
On objects not yet known, when all is new

A THING of beauty is a joy for ever.

But then her face,

So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth,
The overflowings of an innocent heart.

Keats,

Rogers.

Heart on her lips and soul within her eyes,
Soft as her clime and sunny as her skies.

An angel face; its sunny wealth of hair

Byron.

In radiant ripples bathed the graceful throat
And dimpled shoulders; round the rosy curve
Of the sweet mouth a smile seemed wandering ever;
While in the depths of azure fire that gleamed
Beneath the drooping lashes, slept a world
Of eloquent meaning, passionate but pure,
Dreamy, subdued, but oh, how beautiful!

Mrs. Osgood.

19

༣

2#

BEAUTY.

17

BEAUTY.

A THING of beauty is a joy for ever.

Keats.

But then her face,

So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth,
The overflowings of an innocent heart.

Rogers.

Heart on her lips aud soul within her eyes,
Soft as her clime and sunny as her skies.

Byron.

An angel face; its sunny wealth of hair

In radiant ripples bathed the graceful throat
And dimpled shoulders; round the rosy curve
Of the sweet mouth a smile seemed wandering ever;
While in the depths of azure fire that gleamed
Beneath the drooping lashes, slept a world
Of eloquent meaning, passionate but pure,
Dreamy, subdued, but oh, how beautiful!

Mrs. Osgood.

19

The best part of beauty is that which no picture can express.

That loveliness, ever in motion, which plays
Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days,
Now here and now there, giving warmth, as it flies
From the lips to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes.

Moore.

Beauty has little to do with engaging the love of womian. The air, manner, tone, the conversation, the something that interests, the something to be proud of,— the are the attributes of the man made to be loved.

Bulwer.

What's a fine person or a beauteous face,
Unless deportment gives them decent grace?
Blessed with all other requisites to please,
Some want the striking elegance of ease;
The curious eye their awkward movement tires;
They seem like puppets led about by wires.

Men gaze on beauty for a while,
Allured by artificial smile,

But Love shall never twang his dart
From any string that's formed by art.

When Beauty triumphs, ah, beware!
Her smile is hope, her frown despair.

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace
A nymph, a naiad, or a grace,
Of finer form or lovelier face.

Churchill.

Paulding.

Weeks.

Scott.