483 SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Clothing the palpable and familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn.

484 COLERIDGE: _Death of Wallenstein,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

=Day, Days.=

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.

485 BEATTIE: _The Hermit._

My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone!

486 BYRON: _On my Thirty-sixth Year._

One of those heavenly days that cannot die.

487 WORDSWORTH: _Nutting._

=Death.=

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come.

488 SHAKS.: _Jul. Caesar,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Kings and mightiest potentates must die, For that's the end of human misery.

489 SHAKS.: _1 Henry VI.,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

490 SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act iv., Sc. 5.

Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.

491 SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.

Behind her death, Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet On his pale horse.

492 MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. x., Line 588.

Come to the bridal chamber, Death!

Come to the mother's, when she feels, For the first time, her first-born's breath; Come when the blessed seals That close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke; Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm; Come when the heart beats high and warm, With banquet song, and dance, and wine; And thou art terrible,--the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know, or dream, or fear Of agony are thine.

493 FITZ-GREENE HALLECK: _Marco Bozzaris._

Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow.

494 YOUNG: _Night Thoughts,_ Night v., Line 1011.

To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late.

495 MACAULAY: _Lays Anc. Rome, Horatius,_ xxvii.

Leaves have their times to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set--but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death.

496 MRS. HEMANS: _Hour of Death._

Death is only kind to mortals.

497 SCHILLER: _Complaint of Ceres,_ St. 4.

What a strange, delicious amazement is Death, To be without body and breathe without breath.

498 EDWIN ARNOLD: _She and He._

There is no Death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call death.

499 LONGFELLOW: _Resignation,_ St. 5.

Our days begin with trouble here, Our life is but a span, And cruel death is always near, So frail a thing is man.

500 _From the New England Primer._

Death rides on every passing breeze, He lurks in every flower.

501 HEBER: _At a Funeral,_ No. i.

How wonderful is Death!

Death and his brother Sleep.

502 SHELLEY: _Queen Mab,_ St. i.

And Death is beautiful as feet of friend Coming with welcome at our journey's end.

503 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: _To George William Curtis._

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear To be we know not what, we know not where.

504 DRYDEN: _Aurengzebe,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.

=Debt.=

You say, you nothing owe; and so I say: He only owes, who something hath to pay.

505 MARTIAL: (_Hay_), ii., 3.

=Decay.=

Before decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.

506 BYRON: _Giaour,_ Line 68.

The ruins of himself! now worn away With age, yet still majestic in decay.

507 POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xxiv., Line 271.

=Deceit.=

Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice.

508 SHAKS.: _Richard III.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

O, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive.

509 SCOTT: _Marmion,_ Canto vi., St. 17

=December.=