She drooped her head, and with her hand She gave a mournful wave; "Oh, do not jest, dear sir--it is Turf from my mother's grave!" I spoke no word; we sat and wept By the road-side together: No purer dew on that bright day Was dropt upon the heather. --_John Stuart Black._ 1418 When we are sick, where can we turn for succor, When we are wretched where can we complain? And when the world looks cold and surly on us Where can we go to meet a warmer eye With such sure confidence as to a mother? 1419 Is there a heart that music cannot melt? Alas! how is that rugged heart forlorn. --_Beattie._ 1420 Music loosens a heart that care has bound. 1421 No music is so charming to my ear as the requests of my friends, and the supplications of those in want of my assistance. --_Caesar._ 1422 His very foot has music in't, As he comes up the stair. --_Burns._ N 1423 For art may err, but nature cannot miss. --_J. Dryden._ 1424 Our nature exists by motion; perfect rest is death. 1425 Good-nature, like a bee, collects honey from every herb. Ill-nature, like a spider, sucks poison from the sweetest flower. 1426 Good-nature is the beauty of the mind, and, like personal beauty, wins almost without anything else. --_Hanway._ 1427 If you want to keep your good looks, keep your good nature. 1428 NATURE. No ordinance of man shall override The settled laws of nature and of God; Not written these in pages of a book, Nor were they framed to-day, nor yesterday; We know not whence they are; but this we know, That they from all eternity have been, And shall to all eternity endure. --_Sophocles, born 495 B. C._ 1429 Every one follows the inclinations of his own nature. --_Propertius._ 1430 There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel What I am can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. --_Lord Byron._ 1431 Who can paint Like nature? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers? --_J. Thomson._ 1432