14. The world has won thee, lady, and thy joys Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys. CRABBE. 15. Mishap goes o'er thee like a summer cloud; Cares thou hast none, and they who stand to hear thee, Catch the infection and forget their own. ROGERS--_Italy_. 16. Nature for her favorite child, In thee hath temper'd so her clay, That every hour thy heart runs wild, Yet never once doth go astray. WORDSWORTH. 17. Your only labor is to kill the time, And labor dire it is, and weary wo; You sit, you loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme, Then rising, sudden to the glass you go. THOMSON. 18. You will die if ---- love you not; and you will die ere you make your love known; and you will die if he woo you, rather than abate one breath of your crossness. _Much Ado About Nothing._ 19. It cannot bend thy lofty brow, Though friends and foes depart, The car of fate may o'er thee roll, Nor crush thy Roman heart. MRS. CHILD. 20. You wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all yourself. _Merry Wives of Windsor._ 21. To tend From good to better--thence to best, Grateful you drink life's cup, then bend Unmurmuring to your bed of rest; You pluck the flowers that around you blow, Scattering their fragrance as you go. BOWRING. 22. Rich in love And sweet humanity, you will be yourself, To the degree that you desire, beloved. WORDSWORTH. 23. You little care what others do, And where they go, and what they say; Your bliss all inward, and your own, Would only tarnish'd be by being shown. The talking, restless world shall see, Spite of the world, you'll happy be; But none shall know, How much you are so, Save only _Love_. MRS. BARBAULD. 24. Scared at thy frown, abash'd will fly Self-pleasing folly's idle brood, Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy, And leave thee leisure to be good GRAY. 25. A happy lot be thine, and larger light Await thee there;--for thou hast bow'd thy will In cheerful homage to the rule of right, And lovest all, and doest good for ill. BRYANT. 26. In you are youth, beauty, and humble port, Bounty, richesse, and womanly feature; God better knows than my pen can report, Wisdom, largesse, estate and cunning sure. In every point so guided is your measure, In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, That nature could no more her child advance. _King James I._