Joseph Addison

Thy steady temper, Portius, Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar, In the calm lights of mild philosophy.

The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, And heavily in clouds brings on the day, The great, the important day, Big with the fate Of Cato, and of Rome.

Is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?

Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast, And those who paint them truest praise them most.

O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate, And not the wonders of thy youth relate; How can I see the gay, the brave, the young, Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung! In joys of conquest he resigns his breath, And, filled with England's …

So when an angel by divine command With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed, Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, …

Unbounded courage and compassion join'd, Tempering each other in the victor's mind, Alternately proclaim him good and great, And make the hero and the man complete.

Nations with nations mix'd confus'dly die, And lost in one promiscuous carnage lie.

Their courage dwells not in a troubled flood Of mounting spirits, and fermenting blood: Lodged in the soul, with virtue overruled, Inflamed by reason, and by reason cooled, In hours of peace content to be unknown. And only in the field of …

Great souls by instinct to each other turn, Demand alliance, and in friendship burn

See in what peace a Christian can die!

when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, …

When I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out

When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.

Should the whole frame of Nature round him break, In ruin and confusion hurled, He, unconcerned, would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure amidst a falling world.

The man resolved, and steady to his trust, Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just, May the rude rabble's insolence despise, Their senseless clamours and tumultuous cries; The tyrant's fierceness he beguiles, And the stern brow, and the …

Wealth and Power are but different Names for the same thing.

Every star, and every pow'r, Look down on this important hour: Lend your protection and defence Every guard of innocence! Help me my Henry to assuage, To gain his love or bear his rage.

Heroes immers'd in time's dark womb, Ripening for mighty years to come, Break forth, and, to the day display'd, My soft inglorious hours upbraid. Transported with so bright a scheme, My waking life appears a dream.

Where have my ravish'd senses been! What joys, what wonders, have I seen!

When hosts of foes with foes engage, And round th' anointed hero rage, The cleaving fauchion I misguide, And turn the feather'd shaft aside.

A new creation rises to my sight

For wheresoe'er I turn my ravished eyes, Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground.

A thousand trills and quivering sounds In airy circles o'er us fly, Till, wafted by a gentle breeze, They faint and languish by degrees, And at a distance die.