36

་

BANISHMENT-BATTLE.

BANISHMENT-continued.

Dreams of the land where all my wishes centre,
Those scenes which I am doom'd no more to know,
Full oft shall memory trace-my soul's tormentor-

And turn each pleasure past to present woe. Mat. G. Lewis.
When I think of my own native land,

In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. BARGAIN-see Commerce.

Trade.

I'll give thrice so much land

Το

any well-deserving friend;

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

Cowper.

I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Sh. H. ¡v. pt. 1, 11. 1.

Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt,

The Duke of Norfolk deals in malt,

The Douglas in red herrings;
And noble name and cultur'd land,
Palace, and park, and vassal band,
Are powerless to the notes of hand
Of Rothschild or the Barings.
BASHFULNESS-see Modesty.

Halleck, Alnwick Castle.

Unto the ground she cast her modest eye,
And, ever and anon, with rosy red,

The bashful blush her snowy cheeks did dye.

To get thine ends, lay bashfulness aside;

Spenser.

Who fears to ask, doth teach to be deny'd. Herrick, Aph. 291.

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain

Of fancied scorn, and undeserv'd disdain,

And bear the marks upon a blushing face,

Of needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace. Cowper, Conv.

So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
E'en pity scarce can wish it less.

BAT.

[347.

Byron, Bride of A.

Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat,

With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing. Collins. BATTLE-see War.

This day hath made

Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground.

Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth.

Sh. K. John, II. 2.

BATTLE.

37

BATTLE-continued.

The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation.

If we are mark'd to die, we are enough

To do our country loss; and if to live,

Sh. K. J. 11. 1.

The fewer men the greater share of honour. Sh. H. v. IV. 3. Each at the head

Levell'd his deadly aim; their fatal hands

No second stroke intended.

Those that fly may fight again,

Milton, P. L. II. 712.

Which he can never do that's slain.* Butler Hud. III. 3, 213. When Greeks join'd Greeks, then was the tug of war;

The laboured battle sweat, and conquest bled. Lee, Alex. iv. 2. Behold in awful march and dread array

Addison, Camp.

The long-extended squadrons shape their way!
Death, in approaching, terrible, imparts
An anxious horror to the bravest hearts;
Yet do their beating breast demand the strife,
And thirst of glory quells the love of life.
A thousand glorious actions, that might claim
Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame,
Confus'd in crowds of glorious actions lie,
And troops of heroes undistinguish'd die.
Involved in clouds

Addison, Camp.

Impervious to the view, the battle long
Continued doubtful, 'midst the mingling sounds
Of trumpets, neighing steeds, tumultuous shouts
Of fierce assailants, doleful cries of death,

And clatt'ring armour; till at length the noise
In distant murmurs died.

For men, it is reported, dash and vapour
Less in the field of battle than on paper;
Thus, in the history of each dire campaign,

Smollett.

More carnage leads the newspaper than plain. Peter Pindar.

'Twas blow for blow, disputing inch by inch,

For one would not retreat, nor t' other flinch.Byron, D.J. VIII.

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest, when Autumn hath blown,
That host, on the morrow, lay wither'd and strown! Byron.

(77.

* See Notes tracing the pedigree of this distich and its parallels, in Hudi. bras, Ed. Bohn, pp. 106 and 403.

But when all is past, it is humbling to tread
O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead,
And see worms of the earth and fowls of the air,
And beasts of the forest, all gathering there;
All regarding man as their prey,
All rejoicing in his decay.

Hark to the trump, and the drum,

Byron, Corinth. 17.

And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn,

And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne,
And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum,

And the clash, and the shout "they come, they come !" Ib. 22.

Hand to hand, and foot to foot:

Nothing there, save death, was mute;
Stroke, and thrust, and flash, and cry
For quarter, or for victory

Mingle there with the volleying thunder.

Byron, Corinth.

No dread of death-if with us die our foes-
Save that it seems even duller than repose:
Come when it will-we snatch the life of life-

When lost-what recks it-by disease or strife. Byron, Cors.
It was a goodly sight

To see th' embattled pomp, as with the step
Of stateliness the barbed steeds came on,
To see the pennons rolling their long waves
Before the gale, and banners broad and bright
Tossing their blazonry.

Then more fierce

The conflict grew; the din of arms, the yell
Of savage rage, the shriek of agony,
The groan of death, commingled in one sound
Of undistinguish'd horrors.

BATTLE-FIELD.

Southey.

Southey, Madoc.

Then, after length of time, the labouring swains,
Who turn the turfs of those unhappy plains,
Shall rusty piles from the plough'd furrows take,
And over empty helmets pass the rake.

BEARD.

Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
It has no bush below;

Marry a little wool, as much as an unripe
Peach doth wear:

Dryden.

Sh. Troil. 1. 2.

Just enough to speak him drawing towards a man.

Suckling, Goblins.

BEARD-continued.

BEARD-BEAUTY,

His tawny beard was th' equal grace
Both of his wisdom and his face;
In cut and die so like a tile,

A sudden view it would beguile;

The upper part thereof was whey;

33

The nether, orange mix'd with grey. Butler, Hud. 1. 1, 241.

BEAUTY-see Loveliness, Merit, Ornament.

And that same glorious beauty's idle boast,
Is but a bait, such wretches to beguile.

Her looks were like beams of the morning sun,
Forth-looking through the window of the east,
When first the fleecie cattle have begun
Upon the perled grass to make their feast.

Oh, how much doth beauty beauteous seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem,
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.

My beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.

Spenser.

Spenser.

Sh. Sonnet 24.

Sh. Love's L.L. 11. 1.

For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Sh. Love's L.L. IV. 3.

Her sunny locks

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. Sh. Mer. Ven. 1. 1.

There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple;

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with it.

Sh. Temp. 1. 2.

And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumin'd by her eye.

Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,

If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

She looks as clear

Sh. Poems.

Sh. Tw. Ni. 1. 5.

As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. Sh. Tam. S. 11. 1. She's beautiful; and therefore to be wooed :

She is a woman; and therefore to be won. Sh. H. VI. I. v. 3.

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Sh. Rom. Jul. 1. 5.

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven,

Would through the airy region stream so bright,

That birds would sing, and think it were not night. Ibid 11. 2.

This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever

Ran on the green sward; nothing she does, or seems,

But smacks of something greater than herself;

Too noble for this place.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy

Sh. Win. T. IV. 3.

The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry,
Where most she satisfies.

Sk. Ant. Cleop. a. 11. 352.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;

A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly;

A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;

A brittle glass that's broken presently;

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,

Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. Sh Pass. Pilgr. 10.

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade

The eyes of men without an orator.

Sh. Rape of Lu. v.

She sits, like Beauty's child, whom nature gat
For men to see, and seeing wonder at.

As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground;
As broken glass no cement can redress;-
So beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost,

Sh. Peric. II, 2.

In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. Sh. Pass. Pilgr.x. Give me a look, give me a face,

That makes simplicity a grace;

Robes loosely flowing, hair as free!—

Such sweet neglect more taketh me

Than all the adulteries of art,

That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. B. Jonson, Sil. Wo. 1. 1.

Beauty's our grief, but in the ore

We mint, we stamp, and then adore;

Like heathens we the image crown,
And indiscreetly then fall down.

W. Cartwright.