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Ev'n as the huntsman doth the hare pursue, In cold, in heat, on mountaines, on the shore, But cares no more, when he her ta'en espies Speeding his pace only at that which flies. As soone as it creepeth into the termes of friendship, that is to say, in the agreement of wits, it languisheth and vanisheth away: enjoying doth lose it, as having a corporall end, and subject to satietie.
How shall I avoid thee? or with what spell Dissolve the enchantment of thy magic cell? Ev'n Fox himself can't boast so many martyrs, As yearly fall within thy wretched quarters. Money I've none, and debts I cannot pay, Unless my vermin, will those debts defray. Not scolding wife, nor inquisition's worse; Thou'rt ev'ry mischief crammed into one curse."
Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing, Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild, God, in His mercy, protection is showing, Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child. Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing, Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled, Still will my Father, with promise and blessing, Take to His bosom the poor orphan child.
Though still my heart be sore, Yet will I school my angry spirit down. Sometimes he shows the passionate element getting the better of reason. Not by my advice I fain would have dissuaded thee; but thou, Swayed by the promptings of a lofty soul, Didst to our bravest wrong dishonoring him Whom ev'n the Immortals honor'd.
For there, his wife, his little children, dwell; Their smiles shall pay the toil of many an hour: Ev'n now warm tears to expectation swell, As fancy o'er his mind extends her pow'r. A death-like stillness reign'd, where once the song, The song of heroes, wak'd the midnight air, Save, when a solemn murmur roll'd along, That seem'd to say 'for future worlds prepare.
"Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit! rest thee now! Ev'n while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow." Florence Hamilton had but attained her fourth year when she was left the only solace of her widowed father.
"She made the cleverest people quite ashamed; And ev'n the good with inward envy groan, Finding themselves so very much exceeded, In their own way by all the things that she did." Miss Maxwell says it is Byron, and I wish I had thought of the last rhyme before Byron did; my rhymes are always so common. I am too busy doing, nowadays, to give very much thought to being. Mr.
And she all day hath been, Ev'n from the morning until now, with us, That she hath stay'd a little in the house. Then Boaz said to Ruth, observe, my daughter, That thou go not from hence, or follow after The reapers of another field, but where My maidens are, see that thou tarry there: Observe what field they reap, and go thou there, Have I not charged the young men to forbear To touch thee?
But the solution of the difficulty is still incomplete, for although these literary "Pleiades" could furnish as it were "the sweet influences of rain and sunshine," to foster his native talent; yet, breath being denied them, its improvement is more than his friend Cowper could have accounted for, without violating his poetical axiom, that Ev'n the oak Thrives by the rude concussion of the storm.
Thirdly, That so much ev'n these Colours depend upon Texture, that in the Glass of Lead it self made of about three parts of Lytharge or Minium Colliquated with one of very finely Powder'd Crystal or Sand, we have taken pleasure to make the mixture pass through differing Colours, as we kept it more or less in the Fusion.
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