M.
Madness.
I am not mad;—I would to heaven I were!
For then, 't is like I should forget myself;
O, if I could,—what grief should I forget!
1139
SHAKS.: King John, Act iii., Sc. 4.
Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.
1140
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act iii., Sc. 1.
And moody madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.
1141
GRAY: On a Distant Prospect of Eton College.
Man.
O, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!
1142
SHAKS.: M. for M., Act iii., Sc. 2.
He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
1143
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act i., Sc. 2.
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
1144
SHAKS.: Jul. Cæsar, Act v., Sc. 5.
Man is one world, and hath.
Another to attend him.
1145
HERBERT: The Temple. Man.
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,
The proper study of mankind is Man.
1146
POPE: Essay on Man, Epis. ii., Line 1.
What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a' that?
Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that!
1147
BURNS: For a' That and a' That.
Man is a summer's day; whose youth and fire
Cool to a glorious evening, and expire.
1148
HENRY VAUGHAN: Rules and Lessons.
Beyond the poet's sweet dream lives
The eternal epic of the man.
1149
WHITTIER: The Grave by the Lake, St. 34.
What is man? A foolish baby;
Vainly strives, and fights, and frets:
Demanding all, deserving nothing,
One small grave is all he gets.
1150
CARLYLE: Cui Bono.
Manners.
Fit for the mountains and the barb'rous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd.
1151
SHAKS.: Tw. Night, Act iv., Sc. 1.
Manners with fortunes, humors turn with climes,
Tenets with books, and principles with times.
1152
POPE: Moral Essays, Epis. i., Line 172.
Marble.
And sleep in dull cold marble.
1153
SHAKS.: Henry VIII., Act iii., Sc. 2.
All your better deeds
Shall be in water writ, but this in marble.
1154
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Philaster, Act v., Sc. 3.
March.
The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and clouds, and changing skies;
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valleys flies.
1155
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: March.
Ah, March! we know thou art
Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats,
And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets!
1156
HELEN HUNT: March.
Marriage.
The ancient saying is no heresy;—
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
1157
SHAKS.: M. of Venice, Act ii, Sc. 9.
Marriage is a matter of more worth
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship.
1158
SHAKS.: 1 Henry VI., Act v., Sc. 5.
The joys of marriage are the heaven on earth,
Life's paradise, great princess, the soul's quiet,
Sinews of concord, earthly immortality,
Eternity of pleasures.
1159
FORD: Broken Heart, Act ii., Sc. 2.
Hail, wedded love! mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring.
1160
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. iv., Line 750.
Marriage is the life-long miracle,
The self-begetting wonder, daily fresh.
1161
CHARLES KINGSLEY: Saint's Tragedy, Act ii., Sc. 9.
Martyrs.
Life has its martyrs, as brave, as strong, and as faithful,
E'en as the martyrs of death.
1162
H.H. BOYESEN: Calpurnia, Pt. iv.
A pale martyr in his shirt of fire.
1163
ALEXANDER SMITH: A Life Drama, Sc. 2.
Masters.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly followed.
1164
SHAKS.: Othello, Act i., Sc. 1.
Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
1165
SHAKS.: Jul. Cæsar, Act i., Sc. 2.
Matter.
When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
And proved it,—'t was no matter what he said.
1166
BYRON: Don Juan, Canto xi., St. 1.
May.
The voice of one who goes before, to make
The paths of June more beautiful, is thine,
Sweet May!
1167
HELEN HUNT: May.
The new-born May,
As cradled yet in April's lap she lay.
Born in yon blaze of orient sky,
Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold,
Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,
And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.
1168
ERASMUS DARWIN: L. of the Plants, Canto ii., Line 307.
Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who, from her green lap, throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
1169
MILTON: Song on May Morning.
Meeting.
It gives me wonder, great as my content,
To see you here before me.
1170
SHAKS.: Othello, Act ii., Sc. 1.
Each hour until we meet is as a bird
That wings from far his gradual way along
The rustling covert of my soul,—his song
Still loudlier trilled through leaves more deeply stirr'd:
But at the hour of meeting, a clear word
Is every note he sings, in Love's own tongue.
1171
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI: Winged Hours, Sonnet xv.
Melancholy.
There 's such a charm in melancholy.
1172
ROGERS: To ——.
These pleasures, Melancholy, give;
And I with thee will choose to live.
1173
MILTON: Il Penseroso, Line 175.
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
1174
GRAY: Elegy, The Epitaph.
Melodies.
And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!
1175
ROGERS: Human Life.
Memory.
Remember thee?
Yea, from the table of my memory
I 'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there.
1176
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act i., Sc. 5
The eyes of memory will not sleep,
Its ears are open still,
And vigils with the past they keep
Against my feeble will.
1177
WHITTIER: Knight of St. John.
Tho' lost to sight, to mem'ry dear
Thou ever wilt remain.
1178
GEORGE LINLEY: Song.
Men.
Men are but children of a larger growth.
1179
DRYDEN: All for Love, Act iv., Sc. 1.
Mercy.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
1180
SHAKS.: M. of Venice, Act iv., Sc. 1.
Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercy ever hope to have?
1181
SPENSER: Faerie Queene, Bk. v., Canto ii., St. 42.
Merit.
Be thou the first true merit to befriend;
His praise is lost, who stays till all commend.
1182
POPE: E. on Criticism, Pt. ii., Line 274.
Midnight.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:—
Lovers to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
1183
SHAKS.: Mid. N. Dream, Act v., Sc. 1.
Midnight brought on the dusky hour
Friendliest to sleep and silence.
1184
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. v., Line 667.
'T is midnight now. The bent and broken moon,
Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles,
Hangs silent on the purple walls of heaven.
1185
JOAQUIN MILLER: Ina, Sc. 2.
Milton.
That mighty orb of song,
The divine Milton.
1186
WORDSWORTH: Excursion, Bk. i.
Mind.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
1187
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. i., Line 254.
Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.
1188
ROBERT BROWNING: Paracelsus, Sc. 3.
Though man a thinking being is defined,
Few use the grand prerogative of mind.
1189
JANE TAYLOR: Essays in Rhyme, Essay i., St. 45.
My mind to me a kingdom is;
Such present joys therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss
That earth affords or grows by kind.
1190
EDWARD DYER: Ms. Rawl., 85, p. 17.
Mirth.
More merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
1191
SHAKS.: Mid. N. Dream, Act v., Sc. 1.
Come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In heav'n yclept Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth.
1192
MILTON: L'Allegro, Line 11.
As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
1193
BURNS: Tam o' Shanter.
Mischief.
O, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
1194
SHAKS.: Rom. and Jul., Act v., Sc. 1.
When to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
1195
POPE: R. of the Lock, Canto iii., St. 125.
Misery.
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.
1196
SHAKS.: Rom. and Jul., Act v., Sc. 1.
Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.
1197
POPE: Odyssey, Bk. v., Line 572.
Misfortune.
One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
So fast they follow.
1198
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act iv., Sc. 7.
As if Misfortune made the throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy but the great.
1199
NICHOLAS ROWE: Fair Penitent. Prologue.
Mobs.
You have many enemies that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do.
1200
SHAKS.: Henry VIII., Act ii., Sc. 4.
The rabble all alive,
From tippling benches, cellars, stalls, and sties,
Swarm in the streets.
1201
COWPER: Task, Bk. vi., Line 704.
Mockery.
Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!
1202
SHAKS.: Macbeth, Act iii., Sc. 4.
Modesty.
Her looks do argue her replete with modesty.
1203
SHAKS.: 3 Henry VI., Act iii., Sc. 2.
Such an act
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty.
1204
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act iii., Sc. 4.
Monarchs.
A morsel for a monarch.
1205
SHAKS.: Ant. and Cleo., Act i., Sc. 5.
A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate
Of mighty monarchs.
1206
THOMSON: Seasons, Summer, Line 1285.
Money.
This yellow slave
Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench.
1207
SHAKS.: Timon of A., Act iv., Sc. 3.
He had rolled in money like pigs in mud.
1208
Hood: Miss Kilmansegg.
'T is true we've money, th' only power
That all mankind falls down before.
1209
BUTLER: Hudibras, Pt. iii., Canto ii., Line 1327.
Get money; still get money, boy,
No matter by what means.
1210
BEN JONSON: Every Man in His Humour, Act ii., Sc. 3.
Months.
Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting February alone:
Which hath but twenty-eight, in fine,
Till leap year gives it twenty-nine.
1211
Common in the New England States.
Monuments.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.
1212
SHAKS.: Sonnet 55.
Mood.
Anon they move
In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders.
1213
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. i. Line 549.
Fantastic as a woman's mood,
And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.
1214
SCOTT: Lady of the Lake, Canto v., St. 30.
Moon.
Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
1215
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. iv., Line 604.
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon
From the slow opening curtains of the clouds;
Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!
1216
GEORGE CROLY: Diana.
The moon had climb'd the highest hill
Which rises o'er the source of Dee,
And from the eastern summit shed
Her silver light on tower and tree.
1217
JOHN LOWE: Mary's Dream.
Morality.
Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires.
1218
POPE: Dunciad, Bk. iv., Line 649.
Morning.
See how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love.
1219
SHAKS.: 3 Henry VI., Act ii., Sc. 1.
Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds.
1220
MILTON: Par. Lost, Bk. iv., Line 641.
Night wanes—the vapors round the mountains curl'd
Melt into morn, and light awakes the world.
1221
BYRON: Lara, Canto ii., St. 1.
The moon is carried off in purple fire:
Day breaks at last.
1222
ROBERT BROWNING: Return of the Druses, Act i.
Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high.
1223
WATTS: Psalm v.
Mortality.
All, that in this world is great or gay,
Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
1224
SPENSER: Ruins of Time, Line 55.
We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.
1225
SHAKS.: King John, Act iv., Sc. 2.
Mother.
A woman's love
Is mighty, but a mother's heart is weak,
And by its weakness overcomes.
1226
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: Legend of Brittany, Pt. ii., St. 43.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
1227
COLERIDGE: The Three Graves.
Mountains.
I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives
First when he visits, last, too, when he leaves
The world; and, vainly favored, it repays
The day-long glory of his steadfast gaze
By no change of its large calm front of snow.
1228
ROBERT BROWNING: Rudel To The Lady of Tripoli.
And to me
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum
Of human cities torture.
1229
BYRON: Ch. Harold, Canto iii., St. 72.
Mounting.
I mount and mount toward the sky,
The eagle's heart is mine,
I ride to put the clouds a-by
Where silver lakelets shine.
The roaring streams wax white with snow,
The eagle's nest draws near,
The blue sky widens, hid peaks glow,
The air is frosty clear.
And so from cliff to cliff I rise,
The eagle's heart is mine;
Above me ever broadning skies,
Below the rivers shine.
1230
HAMLIN GARLAND: Mounting.
Mourning.
We must all die!
All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when,
Nor how, so we die well: and can that man that does so
Need lamentation for him?
1231
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Valentinian, Act iv., Sc. 4.
Ah, surely nothing dies but something mourns.
1232
BYRON: Don Juan, Canto iii., St. 108.
Murder.
Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
1233
SHAKS.: Hamlet, Act i., Sc. 5.
Murder may pass unpunish'd for a time,
But tardy justice will o'ertake the crime.
1234
DRYDEN: Cock and Fox, Line 285.
Music.
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.