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Updated: June 29, 2025
The common Scotch saying, on the sight of anything operose and finical, "he must have had little to do that made that!" might be put as epigraph on all the song books of old France. Making such sorts of verse belongs to the same class of pleasures as guessing acrostics or "burying proverbs." It is almost purely formal, almost purely verbal. It must be done gently and gingerly.
The composition was pretty nearly such as I anticipated, excepting that the English language was done to death by her pen still more than by her tongue. The epigraph, which was subscribed "original," was as follows: "Your popularity's on the decline: You had your triumph! now I'll have mine." These are rather a favourable specimen of the verses that follow.
Every hair-dresser in Paris, and all the perfumers, ornamented their doorways with gilt frames containing a fine impression of the prospectus on vellum, at the top of which shone the engraving of Hero and Leander, reduced in size, with the following assertion as an epigraph: "The peoples of antiquity preserved their hair by the use of Cephalic Oil."
Then I, long tired By natural ills, received the comfort fast; While budding at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled. I seek no copy of life's first half: Leave here the pages with long musing curled, Write me new my future's epigraph. New angel mine unhoped-for in the world!"
And if you had crossed the threshold and mounted the stairs, and gained that mysterious story inhabited by Monsieur Love, you would have seen, upon another door to the right, another epigraph, informing those interested in the inquiry that the bureau, of M. Love was open daily from nine in the morning to four in the afternoon.
The common Scots saying, on the sight of anything operose and finical, "he must have had little to do that made that!" might be put as epigraph on all the song-books of old France. Making such sorts of verse belongs to the same class of pleasures as guessing acrostics or "burying proverbs." It is almost purely formal, almost purely verbal. It must be done gently and gingerly.
The modest epigraph "Le rime n'est pas riche" may be attributed, with a good show of likelihood, to the same collaborator. It is strikingly appropriate, and I have found the volume very dreary. Those pieces in which I seem to trace the hand of the Princess are particularly dull and conscientious.
When Rienzi was first driven out, his effigy was painted, hanged by the heels upon one of the towers, and many another 'enemy of the state' was pictured there Giuliano Cesarini, for one, and the great Sforza, himself, with a scornful and insulting epigraph; as Andrea del Castagno, justly surnamed the 'Assassin, painted upon the walls of the Signoria in Florence the likeness of all those who had joined in the great conspiracy of the Pazzi, hung up by the feet, as may be seen to this day.
The manuscript was the great work by the Abbe Faria upon the kingdoms of Italy. The count seized it hastily, his eyes immediately fell upon the epigraph, and he read, "'Thou shalt tear out the dragons' teeth, and shall trample the lions under foot, saith the Lord." "Ah," he exclaimed, "here is my answer. Thanks, father, thanks."
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, the next day, when the carriage stopped at a cast-iron gate, on which was inscribed this epigraph, "Hobbs' lodge Ring the Bell." "A snug place enough," said Lord Vargrave, as they were waiting the arrival of the footman to unbar the gate. "Yes," said Mr. Howard. "If a retired Cit could be transformed into a house, such is the house he would be."
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