EXERCISES FOR PARAPHRASING
'The quality of mercy is not strained:
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice."
II. THE APPROACH OF NIGHT.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds;
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.
III.-AN IRISH SCHOOLMASTER.
"Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay-
There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule,
The village master taught his little school;
A man severe he was, and stern to view.
I knew him well, and every truant knew;
Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned.
Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declared how much he knew;
"Twas certain he could write, and cipher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,
And even the story ran that he could guage.
In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill,
For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still;
While words of learned length and thund'ring sound
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around,
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew
That one such head could carry all he knew."
IV.-A MONARCH'S DEATH-BED.
"Alone she sat : from hill and wood
Red sank the mournful sun;
Fast gush'd the fount of noble blood
Treason its worst had done,
With her long hair she vainly press'd
The wounds, to stanch their tide
Unknown, on that meek humble breast,
Imperial Albert died."
V. THE FARMER'S LIFE.
"The farmer's life displays in every part,
A moral lesson to the sensual heart,
Though in the lap of plenty, thoughtful still,
He looks beyond the present good or ill,
Nor estimates alone one blessing's worth
From changeful seasons, or capricious earth;
But views the future with the present hours,
And looks for failures as he looks for showers;
For casual as for certain want prepares,
And round his yard the reeking haystack rears,
Or clover, blossomed lovely to the sight;
His team's rich store through many a wintry night."
VI. THE TRUE SOLITUDE
To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen.
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold
Converse with nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd
But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less.
Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
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