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Home of our childhood! how affection clings And hovers round thee with her seraph wings!

Home is the sphere of harmony and peace, The spot where angels find a resting-place, When, bearing blessings, they descend to earth. MRS. HALE.

The angry word suppressed, the taunting thought,

Subduing and subdued, the petty strife,
Which clouds the color of domestic life;
The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things:
On these small cares of daughter, wife, or
friend,

The almost sacred joys of home depend.
HANNAH MORE.

Home is the resort

Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polished friends And dear relations mingle into bliss.

Domestic happiness,

THOMSON.

Thou art the nurse of virtue; in thine arms Dearer thy hills, though clad in autumn She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again.

brown,

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Honor is

Formed on the good old plan,
A true, and brave, and downright honest man!
He blew no trumpet in the market-place,
Nor in the Church, with hypocritic face,
Supplied with cant the lack of Christian grace;
Loathing pretence, he did with cheerful will, Nothing but what she'll suffer.
What others talked of, while their hands were
still.

Virtue's allowed ascent; honor that clasps
All perfect justice in her arms; that craves
No more respect than what she gives; that
does

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MASSINGER.

Honor's a sacred tie-the law of kings,
The noble mind's distinguished perfection,
That aids and strengthens virtue where it
meets her,

And imitates her actions where she is not.
ADDISON.

Ah, how empty, ah, how fleeting
Is the honor of mankind!
Yesterday, the hero hoary
Was the theme of every story;
Now he lies disrobed of glory.

From the German of FRANCK.

How vain are all hereditary honors,
Those poor possessions from another's deeds,
Unless our own just virtues form our title,
And give a sanction to our fond assumptions.
SHIRLEY.

Say, what is honor? 'Tis the finest sense
Of justice which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offense
Suffered or done.

WORDSWORTH.

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YOUNG.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest.

POPE.

Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,
Adorns and cheers the way;
And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray.

GOLDSMITH.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe; Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower;

There, as the wild bee murmurs on the wing, What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring!

What viewless forms the Eolian organ play, True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's And sweep the furrowed lines of anxious

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thought away!

Reflected on the lake, I love

CAMPBELL.

To see the stars of evening glow;
So tranquil in the heavens above,
So restless in the wave below.
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er, Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene, As false and fleeting as 'tis fair.

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Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn, | Strange how much darkness melts before a When soul to soul, and dust to dust return,

ray;

Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour! How deep a gloom one beam of hope enlightens! O! then thy kingdom comes! Immortal

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Even in the warm and summer light of joy, Without those hopes that, like refreshing gales

At evening from the sea, come o'er the soul, Breathed from the ocean of eternity!

DAWES.

The world may change from old to new,
From new to old again;

Yet hope and heaven, forever true,
Within man's heart remain.
The dreams that bless the weary soul,
The struggles of the strong,
Are steps toward some happy goal,
The story of Hope's song.

SARAH F. ADAMS.

Hope smiles on the boy from the hour of his birth,

To the youth it gives bliss without limit; It gleams for old age as a star on earth,

And the darkness of death cannot dim it. Its rays will gild even fathomless gloom, When the pilgrim of life lies down in the tomb. From the German of SCHILLER.

By sorrow revealed, as the stars are by night, Far off a bright vision appears;

And Hope, like the rainbow, a being of light, Is born, like the rainbow, in tears.

T. K. HERVEY.

Hope rules a land forever green;
All powers that serve the bright-eyed queen
Are confident and gay;

Clouds at her bidding disappear;
Points she to aught? the bliss draws near,
And fancy smooths the way.

WORDSWORTH.

And O! without them, who could bear the The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new,

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And hope is brightest when it dawns from

fears.

WALTER SCOTT.

But Hope that glorious door Passed not: it was not hers to dwell Where pure desires to full fruition swell

Her ministry was o'er;

To cheer earth's pilgrim toward the sky,
To cleanse the tear-drop from his eye,
Was hers-then to immortal Joy
Resign her brief employ,
Break her sweet harp and die.
MRS. SIGOURNEY.

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Other hope had she none, nor wish in life but to follow

My mansion, bright humility,
Heaven's vastest capability;
The further it doth downward tend,
The higher up it doth ascend;
If it go down to utmost naught,

It shall return with that it sought.
HENRY MORE.

He that is down need fear no fall;
He that is low no pride;
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.

BUNYAN.

Heaven-gates are not so highly arched
As princes' palaces; they that enter there
Must go upon their knees.

WEBSTER.

Be wise;

Soar not too high to fall, but stoop to rise. MASSINGER.

The saint that wears heaven's brightest crown, In deepest adoration bends;

The weight of glory bows him down

Then most when most his soul ascends;
Nearest the throne itself must be
The footstool of Humility.

MONTGOMERY.

Humility is eldest-born of virtue,

Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of And claims the birthright at the throne of

heaven.

the Saviour.

LONGFELLOW.

Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies

Deeply buried from human eyes; And, in the hereafter, angels may

Roll the stone from its grave away.

WHITTIER.

HUMILITY.

Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,

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So mighty, and so many my defects,

That I would rather hide me from my greatness, God many a spiritual house has reared, but

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