The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.

1235 SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Music's golden tongue Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor.

1236 KEATS: _Eve of St. Agnes,_ St. 3.

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend the knotted oak; I've read that things inanimate have mov'd, And, as with living souls, have been inform'd, By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

1237 CONGREVE: _Mourning Bride,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Music the fiercest grief can charm, And fate's severest rage disarm.

Music can soften pain to ease, And make despair and madness please; Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the bliss above.

1238 POPE: _Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,_ St. 7.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Throng'd around her magic cell, Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, Possest beyond the Muse's painting.

1239 COLLINS: _The Passions,_ Line 1.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till wak'd and kindled by the master's spell, And feeling hearts--touch them but rightly--pour A thousand melodies unheard before.

1240 ROGERS: _Human Life,_ Line 362.

A few can touch the magic string, And noisy Fame is proud to win them; Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them!

1241 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES: _The Voiceless._

==N.==

=Name.=

What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.

1242 SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act ii., Sc. 2.

Who hath not owned, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name?

1243 CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. ii., Line 5.

=Nature.=

Nature ever yields reward To him who seeks, and loves her best.

1244 BARRY CORNWALL: _Above and Below._

O Nature, how fair is thy face, And how light is thy heart, and how friendless thy grace!

1245 OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto v., St. 28.

To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.

1246 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Thanatopsis._

=News--Newspapers.=

The first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office; and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departing friend.

1247 SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Evil news rides post, while good news baits.

1248 MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 1538.

Turn to the press--its teeming sheets survey, Big with the wonders of each passing day; Births, deaths, and weddings, forgeries, fires, and wrecks, Harangues and hailstones, brawls and broken necks.

1249 SPRAGUE: _Curiosity._

=Newton.=

Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night: God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light.

1250 POPE: _Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Newton._

Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas!

Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only "like a youth Picking up shells by the great ocean--Truth."

1251 BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto vii., St. 5.

=New Year.=

The wave is breaking on the shore,-- The echo fading from the chime-- Again the shadow moveth o'er The dial-plate of time!

1252 WHITTIER: _The New Year._

=Niagara.=

Flow on for ever in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty; ... God hath set His rainbow on thy forehead; and the cloud Mantles around thy feet.

1253 MRS. SIGOURNEY: _Niagara._

=Night.=

Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes.

1254 SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Now began Night with her sullen wing to double-shade The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd, And now wild beasts came forth, the woods to roam.

1255 MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. i., Line 409.

Awful Night!

Ancestral mystery of mysteries.

1256 GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iv.

Night, night it is, night upon the palms.

Night, night it is, the land wind has blown.

Starry, starry night, over deep and height; Love, love in the valley, love all alone.

1257 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON: _The Feast of Famine._