The first artificer of death; the shrewd And by the law of arms— What law is that? 'Tis not the law of God, nor yet above it. Cowper. Henry Taylor. Who is the happy warrior? who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? -It is the generous spirit who hath wrought Among the plans of real life; 'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends Upon that law as on his best of friends; Who, if he rise to stations of command, Rises by open means; -Who comprehends his trust, and to the same Keeps faithful, with a singleness of aim. The army, like a lion from his den, Wordsworth. Marched forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, A human hydra issuing from its fen, To breathe destruction in its winding way.-Byron, ARROGANCE. PRIDE hath no other glass To show itself but pride; for supple knees Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. Our poet may Himself admire the fortune of his play; And arrogantly, as his fellows do, Shakspere. Think he writes well because he pleases you.-Dryden. Who not content With fair equality, fraternal state, Will arrogate dominion undeserved Milton. ART-ARTIST. THE art of our necessities is strange, Shakspere. In framing artists, art hath thus decreed, Shakspere. Blest with each grace of nature and of art. Even copious Dryden wanted, or forgot, Pope. Tir'd at first sight with what the muse imparts, Yet 't is not to adorn and gild each part, Jewels at nose and lip but ill appear; Rather than all things art, let none be there. If there be nothing else between. Pope. Men doubt because they stand so thick i' the sky, If those be stars which paint the galaxy. Ah! the artist's life Is pilgrimage. He may not tarry on Cowley. One spot of earth; he is drawn for aye towards Herder. Perhaps this cruel nymph well knows to feign Gay. What thing a right line is, the learned know; James Howell. For though I must confess an artist can * * In vain with love our bosoms glow, New lustre to those charms impart? Sir William Jones, from the Persian. ARTIFICE. WHY I can smile, and murder while I smile, He soon aware, Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm, That practised falsehood under saintly show.-Milton. Shallow artifice begets suspicion, And, like a cobweb veil, but thinly shades What should have ne'er been seen; imperfect mischief! Hast stung the traveller; and after hear'st Confess, and point the path which thou hast crept. In executing-puzzled, lame, and lost. A man of sense can artifice disdain, As men of wealth may venture to go plain; I find the fool when I behold the screen, Congreve. For 't is the wise man's interest to be seen.-Young. ASCEND-ASCENSION. THEN rising from His grave, Spoiled principalities, and powers triumphed Captivity led captive. * * * Then to the heaven of heavens shall He ascend With victory, triumphing through the air What star I know not, but some star I find, Milton. Has given thee an ascendant o'er my mind.-Dryden. No land but Italy erects the sight To such a vast ascent, or swells to such a height. Addison. 60 ASKANT. ASPIRATIONS. ASKANT-ASLANT. SOME say he bid his angels turn askance Since the space that lies on either side Lost to the light by that unhappy space, Milton. Blackmore. There is a willow grows aslant a brook Shakspere. ASPIRATIONS. THERE is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, Hence springs that universal strong desire Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, Sir J. Davies. Pope. Longings sublime, and aspirations high. Byron. The high-born soul Disdains to rest her heaven-aspiring wing |