2. Of the present much is bright, And in the coming years I see A brilliant and a cheering light, Which burns before thee constantly. W. D. GALLAGHER. 3. A better cellar nowhere can be found; The pantry never is without baked meat, And fish and flesh, so plenteous and complete: It snows within your house of meat and drink, Of all the dainties that a man can think. CHAUCER. 4. GENTLEMAN.--Thine never was a woman's dower Of tenderness and love! Thou who canst chain the eagle's power, Canst never tame the dove. E. C. EMBURY. 4. LADY.--Let me gaze for a moment, that ere I die I may read thee, lady, a prophecy. That brow may beam in glory awhile, That cheek may bloom, and that lip may smile, But clouds shall darken that brow of snow, And sorrow blight thy bosom's glow. MISS L. DAVIDSON. 5. The best establishment in the city, Coaches and horses, hounds and liveried servants. MARY HOWITT. 6. Thou seest only what is fair, Thou sippest only what is sweet; Thou wilt mock at fate and care, Leave the chaff, and take the wheat. R. W. EMERSON. 7. Ye build, ye build, but ye enter not in! MRS. SIGOURNEY. 8. I'll warrant thee from drowning, though thy Ship were no stronger than a nut-shell. _Tempest._ 9. The sea of ambition is tempest-toss'd, And thy hopes may vanish like foam; But when sails are shiver'd and rudder lost, Then look to the light of _home_! MRS. HALE. 10. Your life's a summer even, Whose sun of light, though set Amidst the clouds of heaven, Leaves streams of brightness yet. BOWRING. 11. In a narrow sphere, The little circle of domestic love, You will be known and loved; the world beyond Is not for you. SOUTHEY. 12. Thou dwell'st on sorrow's high and barren place, But round about the mount an angel-guard-- Chariots of fire, horses of fire--encamp, To keep thee safe for heaven! MRS. ELLET. 13. To cheer with sweet repast the fainting guest, To lull the weary on the couch of rest, To warm the traveller, numb'd with winter cold, The young to cherish, to support the old, The sad to shelter, and the lost direct-- These are your cares, and this your glorious task; Can heaven a nobler give, or mortals ask? SIR WILLIAM JONES. 14. The sordid cares in which you dwell Shrink and consume your heart. BRYANT.