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ACCOUNT. At many times I brought in my accounts, Laid them before you; you would throw them off, And say you found them in mine honesty.
Shakspere. Then ou shalt see hii plunged, when least he fears, At once accounting for his deep arrears.
Dryden. Sum up at night what thou has done by day;
And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dress and undress thy soul. Watch the decay,
And growth of it. If with thy watch, that too Be down, then wind up both. Since we shall be Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree.
Herbert. Why were they proud? because their marble founts
Gushed with more pride than do a wretch's tears? Why were they proud ? because fair orange mounts
Were of more soft ascent than lazar stairs? Why were they proud? because red-lined accounts Were richer than the songs of Grecian years.
None have accused thee; 'tis thy conscience cries,
Mrs. Hale. 10
Fame, immortality—these are its crown; Would'st thou illumine the tablets of story?Build on achievements thy dome of renown.
From the German.
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Learn to labour and to wait.
We must not stint
Away, then; work with boldness and with speed,
Marloue. For good and well must in our actions meet; Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet.
Donne. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill; The fatal shadows that walk by us still.
John Fletcher. Of every
noble action, the intent Is to give worth reward—vice punishment.
Beaumont and Fletcher. The body sins not; 'tis the will That makes the action good or ill.
Our unsteady actions cannot be
Sir. R. Howard. Good actions crown themselves with lasting bays; Who deserves well needs not another's praise.
The keen spirit
Do something! do it soon! with all thy might;
An angel's wing would droop if long at rest,
And God inactive were no longer blest. Some high or humble enterprise of good
Contemplate till it shall possess thy mind,
And kindle in thy heart a flame refined:
To this high purpose; to begin, pursue,
Strength to complete, and with delight review, And strength to give the praise where all is due.
Is our destined end or way,
Finds us further than to-day.
Trust no future howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead past bury its dead!
Longfellow. 'Tis human actions print the chart of time.
ACTORS-ACTING. For I did play a lamentable part: Madam, 'twas Ariadne passioning For Theseus' perjury, and unjust flight; Which I so lively acted with my tears, That my poor mistress, moved therewithal, Wept bitterly; and, would I might be dead, If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.-Shakspere. When a good actor doth his part present, In every act he our attention draws, That at the last he may find just applause.
When, with mock majesty and fancied power,
Actors I've seen, and of no vulgar name,
Churchill. In shabby state they strut, in tattered robe, The scene a blanket, and a barn the globe; No high conceits their moderate wishes raise, Content with humble profit, humble praise. Let dowdies simper, and let bumpkins stare, The strolling pageant hero treads on air; Pleased for his hour, he to mankind gives law, And snores the next out on a truss of straw.