In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.

1100 MILTON: _Comus,_ Line 859.

=Lincoln, Abraham.=

This man, whose homely face you look upon, Was one of Nature's masterful, great men; Born with strong arms, that unfought battles won Direct of speech, and cunning with the pen.

Chosen for large designs, he had the art Of winning with his humor, and he went Straight to his mark, which was the human heart; Wise, too, for what he could not break he bent.

Upon his back a more than Atlas-load,-- The burden of the Commonwealth,--was laid; He stooped, and rose up to it, though the road Shot suddenly downwards, not a whit dismayed.

Hold, warriors, councillors, kings! All now give place To this dear benefactor of the Race.

1101 R.H. STODDARD: _Abraham Lincoln._

=Line.=

Marlowe's mighty line.

1102 BEN JONSON: _To the Memory of Shakespeare._

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.

1103 SCOTT: _Marmion, Introduction to Canto i._

=Lion.=

The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw, And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o'erpowered.

1104 SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

=Lips.=

Her lips are roses over-washed with dew, Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower; No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power, But by her breath her beauties do renew.

1105 ROBERT GREENE: _From Menaphon. Menaphon's Ecl._

=Little.=

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.

1106 BURNS: _Contented wi' Little._

Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.

1107 GOLDSMITH: _The Hermit,_ Ch. viii., St. 8.

=Locks.=

Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.

1108 SHAKS.: _Macbeth,_ Act iii., Sc. 4.

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonny brow was brent.

1109 BURNS: _John Anderson._

=Logic.=

He was in logic a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in analytic; He could distinguish and divide A hair 'twixt south and south-west side.

1110 BUTLER: _Hudibras,_ Pt. i., Canto i., Line 65.

=London.=

London! the needy villain's general home, The common-sewer of Paris and of Rome!

With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.

1111 DR. JOHNSON: _London,_ Line 83.

=Longings.=

I have Immortal longings in me.

1112 SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act v., Sc. 2.

=Looks.=

My only books Were woman's looks,-- And folly 's all they've taught me.

1113 MOORE: _The Time I've Lost in Wooing._

Where village statesmen talk'd with looks profound, And news much older than their ale went round.

1114 GOLDSMITH: _Des. Village,_ Line 223.

=Lord.=

Lord of himself,--that heritage of woe!

1115 BYRON: _Lara,_ Canto i., St. 2.

Lord of himself, though not of lands; And having nothing, yet hath all.

1116 WOTTON: _Character of a Happy Life._

=Loss.=

That loss is common would not make My own less bitter--rather more; Too common! Never morning wore To evening but some heart did break.

1117 TENNYSON: _In Memoriam,_ Pt. vi., St. 2.

=Love.=

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away.

1118 SHAKS.: _Two Gent. of V.,_ Act i., Sc. 3.