THINGS THOUGHTFUL.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17193, 9 November 1923, Page 11

THINGS THOUGHTFUL.

THE PILGRIMS. This world nis but a thurghfare ful of And we ben pilgrimes. passing© to and fro. Chaucer. TIME. For we are Ancient* of the earth, And in the morning of the times. —Tennyson. I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost file* of time. -—Tennyson. TOIL Stitch I stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger an<l dirt. Oh. God ! that bread should be so dear, And flesh aiid blood so cheap! —T. Hood. For this of old is sure. That change of toil is toil’s sufficient -Sir L. Alorris. TRADE. In matters of commerce, the fault of the Dutch Is offering too little and asking too much. —G. Canning. ON SHAKESPEARE. Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame. AA’hat. need’st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a live-long monument. Alilton. His praise is this—he can be praised of none. Alan, woman, child, praise God for him, but he Exults not to be worshipped, hut to be. —Swinburne. SHAME. He was not born for shame : Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit. —Shakespeare. OBSERVATIONS ON PITY. Pity and need Aiake all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood. —-Sir Edwin Arnold. Of all the paths lead to a woman's lore, Pity’s the straightest. -—-Beaumont- and Fletcher. Anon her herb© had pi tee of his wo. And with that pitee love came in also. —Chaucer. But pitee renueth sone in gentil herte. —Chaucer. But they that han’t pity, why I pities they. —C. Dibdin. ’Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love. —Dryden. • » Careless their merits of their faults to scan. His pity gave ere charity began. —Goldsmith. ABOUT SHIPS. The Liner she’s a lady. - —Kipling. It was that fatal and perfidious bark. Built- in th’ eclipse, and rigged with curses dark. That sank so low that sacred head of thine. —-Milton. FIRST PIONEERS. AA'e were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. —Coleridge. THE SILENCE. There was silence deep as death ; And the boldest held liis breath— For a time. —T. Campbell. WONDERS OF LIFE. Like water bubbling in a crystal jar The nightingale begins a liquid trill. Another answers, now the world is still ; You’d think that you could hear that falling star. Until this hour I saw Aly love before me like a dreary sea. A grey unending ocean cold and dark. I see a wonder in the eastern sky. The vault of heaven trembles into fire Brighter than sunset, softer than the dawn, As though the skies had melted into mist And all the starts were shattered into dust. The poet’s soaring dreams Rise like the blossom, like the blossom wane : And on the moving surface of Tiine”s stream Their life is neither briefer nor more long. —Alaurice Baring. PHYSIOGNOAIY. There’s no art To find the mind's construction in the face : He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust. —Shakespeare.