Miscellaneous.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1629, 5 October 1889, Page 2 (Supplement)

Brilliants.

Will fortune never come with both hands full, Bus write h e t fair words still in loulest letcere I She either gives a stomaob, and no food — Such are the poor in health ; or else a feast, And takea away the Btomaoh— such .the rich, That have abundance, and enjoy it not. — Shakespeare. Weep not for him that diath, For he hath ceased from tears, And a voice to his replieth Whioh he hath not heard for years. — Mrs. Norton. For pr&iaa that'a due, does give no more To worth than what ii bad before ; But to commend withcut desert Ik quires a mastery cf art ; That Bets a glass on what's ami-is, And says what Bhould be, not what is. —Butler. Then hsppy those. Binoa eaoh must drain His share of pleasure, share cf pain, — Then happy thoae, beloved of Heaven, To whom che raioglol cup is given; Whose lament sorrows find relief, WhoßO joya are chasten'd by their grief. —Sir Walter Scott. Grateful to acknowledge whence His good ! Descends, thither with heart, and voice, and I eyea | Direofced to devotion, to adore And worship God supreme, who made him i OhfcC : Of all bis v/Diks. ; —Milton. \ Then 'tis our be^i, sinoe thaa ordained to ais, i To make a virtue of neoessity. | Take what he gives, sinoa to rebel is vain ; The bad grows better wbioh wo well sustain ; And could we chcosa the time, and ohooss ; aright, " j 'Tie beat to die, our honor at the height. — Drydeo. H Melancholy is a fearful gift ; j What is it but tho telesoopa of truth ? Which Bfcripd the distance of its fantasies, And brings lifo near in utter darkness, Making the cold reality too real. < — Byron. ' Thrice happy h that humble pair j , Baneath tbe level of all care, j Over whose heada those arrows fly Of eb.<l distrust a.nc joalocsy, — Wull<3r. j Ia days remembered ! remsmbereS siJ 3 Ths bitter sweet, the honey and the gall ; Those garden rambles in ths silent night, Those trees so shady and that moon bo bright;, That thickset alley by tho arbor oloaed, That woodbino seat where we at last reposed , And then the hopes that came and then weic gone, Quick as the clouds beneath the moon pasa on. — Orabbe.