=

Nature ever yields reward
To him who seeks, and loves her best.
1244
BARRY CORNWALL: _Above and Below._

O Nature, how fair is thy face,
And how light is thy heart, and how friendless thy grace!
1245
OWEN MEREDITH: _Lucile,_ Pt. i., Canto v., St. 28.

To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
1246
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Thanatopsis._

=News--Newspapers.=

The first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend.
1247
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

Evil news rides post, while good news baits.
1248
MILTON: _Samson Agonistes,_ Line 1538.

Turn to the press--its teeming sheets survey,
Big with the wonders of each passing day;
Births, deaths, and weddings, forgeries, fires, and wrecks,
Harangues and hailstones, brawls and broken necks.
1249
SPRAGUE: _Curiosity._

=Newton.=

Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night:
God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light.
1250
POPE: _Epitaph intended for Sir Isaac Newton._

Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas!
Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent,
That he himself felt only "like a youth
Picking up shells by the great ocean--Truth."
1251
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto vii., St. 5.

=New Year.=

The wave is breaking on the shore,--
The echo fading from the chime--
Again the shadow moveth o'er
The dial-plate of time!
1252
WHITTIER: _The New Year._

=Niagara.=

Flow on for ever in thy glorious robe
Of terror and of beauty; ... God hath set
His rainbow on thy forehead; and the cloud
Mantles around thy feet.
1253
MRS. SIGOURNEY: _Niagara._

=Night.=

Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes.
1254
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act iii., Sc. 2.

Now began
Night with her sullen wing to double-shade
The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd,
And now wild beasts came forth, the woods to roam.
1255
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. i., Line 409.

Awful Night!
Ancestral mystery of mysteries.
1256
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iv.

Night, night it is, night upon