und these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
206
WORDSWORTH: _Personal Talk._

Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself.
207
MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 327.

Some books are lies frae end to end.
208
BURNS: _Death and Dr. Hornbook._

=Bores.=

Society is now one polish'd horde,
Formed of two mighty tribes, the _Bores_ and _Bored._
209
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., St. 95.

Again I hear that creaking step!--
He's rapping at the door!--
Too well I know the boding sound
That ushers in a bore.
210
J.G. SAXE: _My Familiar._

=Borrowing.=

Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all,--to thine own self be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
211
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

=Boston.=

Solid men of Boston, banish long potations!
Solid men of Boston, make no long orations!
212
CHARLES MORRIS: _American Song. From Lyra Urbanica._

=Bough.=

Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.
213
MARLOWE: _Faustus._

=Bounds.=

There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye,
But hath, his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.
214
SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act ii., Sc. 1

=Bounty.=

For his bounty,
There was no winter in 't; an autumn 't was,
That grew the more by reaping.
215
SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act v., Sc. 2

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear,
He gain'd from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.
216
GRAY: _Elegy, The Epitaph._

=Bourn.=

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns.
217
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

=Bower.=

I'd be a butterfly born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.
218
THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY: _I'd be a Butterfly._

=Bowl.=

There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
219
POPE: Satire i., Line 6.

=Boyhood.=

The whining schoolboy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
220
SHAKS.: _As You Like It,_ Act ii., Sc. 7.

The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken.