FANCY.-FANTASTIC.

So full of shapes is fancy,

That it alone is high fantastical. Shakspere.

This busy power is working day and night;
For when the outward senses rest do take,
A thousand dreams, fantastical and light,
With fluttering wings do keep her still awake.

Davies.

A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names,
And sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.

He that truly loves

Burns out the day in idle fantasies;

Milton.

And when the lamb bleating, doth bid good night
Unto the closing day, when tears begin

To keep quick time unto the owl, whose voice
Shrieks like the bell-man in the lover's ears.

Middleton.

Pleasant at noon, beside the vocal brook,
To lie one down and watch the floating cloud,
And shape to fancy's wild imaginings,
Their ever-varying forms.

Woe to the youth whom fancy gains,
Winning from reason's hands the reins.

Where fancy halted, weary in her flight,
In other men, his, fresh as morning, rose,

Southey.

Scott.

And soar'd untrodden heights, and seem'd at home Where angels bashful look'd.

In vain would art presume to guide
The chariot wheels of praise;

When fancy driving ranges free,

Fresh flowers selecting like the bee,
And regularly strays.

Pollok.

J. Philips.

292

FAREWELL.

FASHION.

FAREWELL.

WITH that wringing my hand he turned away,
And though his tears would hardly let him look,
Yet such a look did through his eyes make way,
As showed how sad a farewell there he took.

Daniel.

'Tis hard to be parted from those

With whom we for ever could dwell; But bitter indeed is the sorrow that flows,

When perhaps we are saying for ever-farewell!

'T were vain to speak, to weep, to sigh;
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word, farewell-farewell!

I never spoke the word farewell!

Mrs. Opie.

But with an utterance faint and broken;

A heart-sick yearning for the time

When it should never more be spoken.

Byron.

Caroline Bowles.

FASHION.

THE fashion

Doth wear out more apparel than the men.

Fashions that are now called new,
Have been worn by more than you;
Elder times have used the same,
Though these new ones get the name.

Fashion, leader of a chattering train,

Shakspere.

Middleton.

Whom man for his own hurt permits to reign,
Who shifts and changes all things but his shape,
And would degrade his votary to an ape. Cowper.

Fashion, a word which knaves and fools may use,
Their knavery and folly to excuse.

Churchill.

FATE.

WHAT fate imposes, men must needs abide;
It boots not to resist both wind and tide.-Shalospere.

Alas! what stay is there in human state,
Or who can shun inevitable fate?

The doom was written, the decree was past,
Ere the foundations of the world were cast.-Dryden.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state.

Here's a sigh for those who love me,
And a smile for those who hate;

Pope.

And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.

Byron.

While warmer souls command, nay, make their fate. Thy fate made thee, and forc'd thee to be great.

How frequent in the very thick of life
We rub clothes with a fate that hurries past.

Moore.

Alexander Smith.

FATHER.

To you your father should be as a god;
One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one,
To whom you are but as a form in wax,
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure, or disfigure it.

The child is father of the man.

My father's praise I did not miss,
What time he stooped down to kiss
The poet at his knee.

Shakspere.

Wordsworth.

E. B. Browning.

294

FAULTS.

FAVOUR.

FAULTS.

THE noble mind, unconscious of a fault,
No fortune's frowns can bend, or smiles exalt,
Like the firm rock, that in mid-ocean braves
The war of whirlwinds, and the dash of waves.

Frail creatures are we all! To be the best,
Is but the fewest faults to have;
Look thou then to thyself, and leave the rest
To God, thy conscience, and the grave.

What are another's faults to me?
I've not a vulture's bill
To peck at every flaw I see,
And make it wider still.

It is enough for me to know

I've follies of my own,

And on my heart the care bestow,

And let my friends alone.

Pope.

Coleridge.

Anon.

FAVOUR-FAVOURITE.

BID her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honey-suckles, ripen'd by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter; like favourites,
Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it.

Shakspere.

No trifle is so small as what obtains,
Save that which loses favour; 't is a breath
Which hangs upon a smile! a look, a word,
A frown, the air-built tower of fortune shakes,
And down the unsubstantial fabric falls.

Hannah More.

'Tis ever thus when favours are denied;
All had been granted but the thing we beg;
And still some great unlikely substitute,
Your life, your souls, your all of earthly good,
Is proffer'd in the room of one small boon.

Johanna Baillie.

FEAR.

NEXT him was fear, all arm'd from top to toe, Yet thought himself not safe enough thereby, But fear'd each shadow moving to and fro, And his own arms when glittering he did spy, Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly; As ashes pale of hue, and winged heel'd, And evermore on danger fixt his eye, 'Gainst whom he always bent a brazen shield, Which his right hand unarmed fearfully did wield. Spenser.

Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, But coward-like with trembling terror die.

Shakspere.

If evils come not, then our fears are vain;
And if they do, fear but augments the pain.
Sir Thomas More.

They that fear the adder's sting, will not
Come near his hissing.

And, though he posted e'er so fast,
His fear was greater than his haste;
For fear, though fleeter than the wind,
Believes 't is always left behind.

Chapman.

Butler.

The wretch that fears to drown, will break thro'

flames;

Or, in his dread of flames, will plunge in waves.
When eagles are in view, the screaming doves
Will cower beneath the feet of man for safety.

Thou, to whom the world unknown,
With all its shadowy shapes is shown,
Who see'st appall'd the unreal scene,
While fancy lifts the veil between:
Ah, Fear! ah, frantic Fear!

I see I see thee near.

Cibber.

I know thy hurried step, that haggard eye! Like thee I start, like thee disorder'd fly, For, lo! what monsters in thy train appear!

Collins.