Sweet, be not proud of those fair eyes, Which star-like sparkle in their skies; Be ye not proud of that rich hair, Which wantons in the love-sick air, Nor be you proud because you see All hearts your captives, yours yet free. When as that jewel which you wear Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, Will last to be a precious stone, When all your world of beauty’s gone. ❦ [Sidenote: Good Nature.] Good nature must be a qualification peculiar to the English, as it is remarkable that there is no term for it in any other language. ❦ Among the most beautiful of the Welsh Melodies still exists the well known air of “Sweet Richard.” Tradition declares this melody was composed by Owen Glendower, as a tribute of regret to his Prince, it was afterwards sung and played in the many risings in favour of Richard II. with the same powerful effect that the celebrated Jacobite airs had on the partisans of the house of Stuart. ❦ The following touching lines, which have been attributed to Henry VI. were probably written during his long imprisonment in the Tower. “Kingdoms are but cares, State is devoid of stay; Riches are ready snares, And hasten to decay. Who meaneth to remove the rock Out of his slimy mud, Shall mire himself, and hardly ’scape The swelling of the flood.” ❦ [Sidenote: Manner.] There is no policy like politeness; and a good manner is the best thing in the world, either to get a good name or to supply the want of it. ❦ _Found in Sir Walter Raleigh’s Bible in the Gate House at Westminster._ Even such is time, that takes on trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with age and dust; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days! But from this earth, this grave, this dust, The Lord shall raise me up, I trust. ❦ _Speech of a Shawanese Chief to Lord Dunmore._ “I appeal to any white man to-day, if ever he entered Logan’s cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if he ever came cold or naked, and he gave him not clothing. During the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle, ignominious in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love of the Whites, that those of my own country pointed at me as I went by, and said, Logan is the friend of white men! I had even thought to live with you, but the iniquities of one among you did away that thought, and dragged me from my cabin of peace. Colonel Cressop the last spring, in cold blood, cut off all the relations of Logan, sparing neither woman nor child. There runs not a drop of the blood of Logan in the veins of any human creature. This called on me for revenge; I have sought it; I have killed many; revenge has been fully glutted.