o.
2045
SHAKS.: _Mer. W. of W.,_ Act iv., Sc. 2.

The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks,
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
2046
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. ix., Line 267.

She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
2047
BURNS: _My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing._

The world well tried--the sweetest thing in life
Is the unclouded welcome of a wife.
2048
N.P. WILLIS: _Lady Jane,_ Canto ii., St. 11.

=Wilderness.=

Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
2049
COWPER: _Task,_ Bk. ii., Line 1.

=Will.=

A weapon that comes down as still
As snowflakes fall upon the sod;
But executes a freeman's will,
As lightning does the will of God.
2050
JOHN PIERPONT: _A Word from a Petitioner._

=Willow.=

A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree;
Oh, willow, willow, willow!
With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee,
Oh, willow, willow, willow!
2051
THOMAS PERCY: _Willow, Willow, Willow._

=Wind.=

What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
Not the ill wind which blows none to good.
2052
SHAKS.: _2 Henry IV.,_ Act v., Sc. 3.

The wind is rising; it seizes and shakes
The doors and window-blinds and makes
Mysterious moanings in the halls;
The convent-chimneys seem almost
The trumpets of some heavenly host,
Setting its watch upon our walls!
2053
LONGFELLOW: _Christus, Abbot Joachim._

A gentle wind of western birth,
From some far summer sea,
Wakes daisies in the wintry earth.
2054
GEORGE MACDONALD: _Songs of the Spring Days._

A melancholy sound is in the air,
A deep sigh in the distance, a shrill wail
Around my dwelling. 'Tis the Wind of night.
2055
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _A Rain Dream._

=Windows.=

Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passages that lead to nothing.
2056
GRAY: _A Long Story._

=Wine.=

Wine makes Love forget its care,
And mirth exalts a feast.
2057
PARNELL: _Anacreontic, "Gay Bacchus, etc.",_ St. 2.

And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile.
2058
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. xiv., Line 520.

=Wing.=

This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
To waft me from distraction.
2059
BYRON: _Ch. Harold,_ Canto iii., St. 85.

How at heaven's gates she claps her wings,
The morne not waking til she sings.
2060
JOHN LYLY: _Cupid and Campaspe,_ Act v., Sc. 1

=Winter.=

Now is the winter of our dis