s they rain
From off the shaken bush.
1534
GEORGE ELIOT: _Spanish Gypsy,_ Bk. iii.

As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
1535
KEATS: _Eve of St. Agnes,_ St. 27.

The rose saith in the dewy morn,
I am most fair;
Yet all my loveliness is born
Upon a thorn.
1536
CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI: _Consider the Lilies of the Field._

Strew on her roses, roses,
And never a spray of yew!
In quiet she reposes;
Ah, would that I did too.
1537
MATTHEW ARNOLD: _Requiescat._

=Rousseau.=

The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau,
The apostle of affliction--he, who threw
Enchantment over passion, and from woe
Wrung overwhelming eloquence.
1538
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 77.

=Royalty.=

O wretched state of Kings! O doleful fate!
Greatness misnamed, in misery only great!
Could men but know the endless woe it brings,
The wise would die before they would be Kings.
Think what a King must do!
1539
R.H. STODDARD: _The King's Bell._

=Ruin.=

Where my high steeples whilom used to stand,
On which the lordly falcon wont to tower,
There now is but an heap of lime and sand,
For the screech-owl to build her baleful bower.
1540
SPENSER: _Ruins of Time,_ Line 127.

On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.
1541
CAMPBELL: _Pl. of Hope,_ Pt. i., Line 385.

The day shall come, that great avenging day
Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay,
When Priam's powers and Priam's self shall fall,
And one prodigious ruin swallow all.
1542
POPE: _Iliad,_ Bk. iv., Line 196.

=Ruling Passions.=

In men, we various Ruling Passions find;
In women, two almost divide the kind;
Those, only fix'd, they first or last obey,
The love of pleasure and the love of sway.
1543
POPE: _Moral Essays,_ Epis. ii., Line 207.

=Rumor.=

Rumor is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures;
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it.
1544
SHAKS.: _Henry IV.,_ Pt. ii., Induction.

=Rural Life.=

Of men
The happiest he, who far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few retired,
Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life.
1545
THOMSON: _Seasons, Autumn,_ Line 1132.

==S.==

=Sabbath.=

The Sabbath bell,
That over wood, and wild, and mountain dell
Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts un