DEPORTMENT.

What's a fine person, or a beauteous face,
Unless deportment gives them decent grace?
Blest 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.

Purpose is but the slave to memory,

Of violent birth but poor validity;

Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fall unshaken when they mellow be.

1175

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 2.

He that intends well, yet deprives himself

Of means to put his good thoughts into deed,
Deceives his purpose of the due reward.

1176 Beaumont & Fletcher: Honest Man's Fortune. Acti. Sc. 1.

Had doting Priam checked his son's desire,

Troy had been bright with fame, and not with fire.

1177

DESOLATION.

Shaks.: R. of Lucrece. Line 1490.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth, as I am now.

1178

Byron: Ch. Harold. Canto ii. St. 98.

Desolate! Life is so dreary and desolate.
Women and men in the crowd meet and mingle,
Yet with itself every soul standeth single,
Deep out of sympathy moaning its moan;
Holding and having its brief exultation;
Making its lonesome and low lamentation;
Fighting its terrible conflicts alone.

1179

Alice Cary: Life.

DESPAIR -see Suicide.

They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.

1180

Shaks.: Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 7

I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what

I do, to spite the world.

1181

Shaks.: Macbeth. Act iii. Sc. 1

O! that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seems to me all the uses of this world!

1182

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2.

There's nothing in this world can make me joy:
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
1183

Shaks.: King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.

If thou didst but consent

To this most cruel act, do but despair;

And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
That ever spider twisted from her womb
Will serve to strangle thee.

Shaks.: King John. Act iv. Sc. 3.

1184
So cowards fight, when they can fly no further;
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.

1185

Shaks.: 3 Henry VI. Act i. Sc. 4.

It were all one,

That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it.

1186

Shaks.: All's Well. Act i. Sc. 1.

Farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear;
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost;
Evil, be thou my good!

1187

Milton: Par. Lost. Bk. iv. Line 108. All hope is lost

Of my reception into grace; what worse? For where no hope is left, is left no fear. 1188 Milton: Par. Regained. Bk. iii. Line 204. When desperate ills demand a speedy cure, Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly. 1189

Dr. Johnson: Irene. Act iv. Sc. 1

For men as resolute appear

With too much, as too little fear;

And, when they're out of hopes of flying,

Will run away from death, by dying,

Or turn again to stand it out,

And those they fled like lions rout.

1190

Butler: Hudibras. Pt. iii. Canto iii. Line 27.

Talk not of comfort. - 'tis for lighter ills;

I will indulge my sorrow, and give way
To all the pangs and fury of despair.

1191

Addison: Cato. Act iv. Sc. 3

Hood: Bridge of Sighs.

Cowper: Needless Alarm. Line 132.

Beware of desperate steps! - the darkest day,
Live till to-morrow, will have pass'd away.

1193

Alas! the breast that inly bleeds

Hath nought to dread from outward blow:
Who falls from all he knows of bliss,
Cares little into what abyss.

1194

Byron: Giaour. Line 1163.

They who have nothing more to fear may well
Indulge a smile at that which once appall'd;
As children at discovered bugbears.

1195

Byron Sardanapalus. Act v. Sc. 1

Despair defies even despotism; there is

That in my heart would make its way thro' hosts
With levell'd spears.

1196

Byron: Two Foscari. Act i. Sc. 1

Alas for him who never sees

The stars shine through his cypress-trees!
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play!
Who hath not learned, in hours of faith,
The truth to flesh and sense unknown,
That Life is ever lord of Death,

And Love can never lose its own!

1197 DESPOTISM.

Whittier: Snow-Bound.

Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves,
Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven
To their own vile advantages shall turn
Of lucre and ambition, and the truth
With superstitions and traditions taint.
1198

Milton: Par. Lost. Bk. xii. Line 508

DESTINY.

That old miracle-Love-at-first-sight

Needs no explanations. The heart reads aright
Its destiny sometimes.

1199

Owen Meredith: Lucile. Pt. ii. Canto vi. St. 16.

Like warp and woof all destinies

Are woven fast,

Linked in sympathy like the keys

Of an organ vast.

Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar;
Break but one

Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar
Through all will run.

1200

DETERMINATION

Whittier: My Soul and I. St. 37

see Resolution.

Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
1201

Shaks.: Two Gent. of V. Act i. Sc. 3
Although

The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all; I will be gone.

1202

Shaks.: All's Well. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace.

1203

Shaks.: Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2.

DETRACTION - see Slander, Scandal.

Happy are they that hear their detractions,
And can put them to mending.
1204

Shaks.: Much Ado. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their souls:

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:

But he that filches from me my good name,

Robs me of that which not enriches him,

And makes me poor indeed.

1205

Shaks.: Othello. Act ii. Sc. 3,

"Tis not the wholesome sharp morality,
Or modest anger of a satiric spirit,

That hurts or wounds the body of a state,
But the sinister application

Of the malicious, ignorant, and base
Interpreter, who will distort and strain

The general scope and purpose of an author
To his particular and private spleen.

1206

Ben Jonson: Poetaster Act v. Sc. 1

A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;

At every word a reputation dies.

1207

Pope: R. of the Lock. Canto iii. Line 15

So, naturalists observe, a flea,

Has smaller fleas that on him prey;

And these have smaller still to bite 'em.
And so proceed ad infinitum.

1208

Swift: On Poetry. A Rhapsody

Mankind praise against their will,

And mix as much detraction as they can.

1209

DEVIL.

Young: Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 502.

The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be;
The devil was well, the devil a saint was he.

1210

Rabelais: Works. Bk. iv. Ch. xxiv. The devil hath power

Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Savior.
1213
Longfellow: Evangeline. Pt. ii. v. Line 35.

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion
Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.

Within the rose I found a trembling tear,
Close curtained in a gloom of crimson night
By tender petals from the outer light.

I plucked the flower and held it to my ear,

And thought within its fervid breast to hear

A smothered heart-beat throbbing soft and low.

1216 Boyesen: Within the Rose I Found a Trembling Tear.