Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime;
An age that melts with unperceived decay,
And glides in modest innocence away.
_Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Who soweth good seed shall surely reap;
The year grows rich as it groweth old,
And life's latest sands are its sands of gold!
_To the "Bouquet Club."_ J.C.R. DORR.

The spring, like youth, fresh blossoms doth produce,
But autumn makes them ripe and fit for use:
So Age a mature mellowness doth set
On the green promises of youthful heat.
_Cato Major, Pt. IV_. SIR J. DENHAM.

My May of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf:
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
_Macbeth, Act_ v. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.
_Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

His silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds;
It shall be said--his judgment ruled our hands.
_Julius Caesar, Act_ ii. _Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
_King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease
Gathered, not harshly plucked for death mature.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. XI_. MILTON.

AIR.

DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

BANQUO.... The heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
The air is delicate.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.

Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odors from the spicy shrub.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.

HAMLET. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

HORATIO. It is a nipping and an 'eager air.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

The parching air
Burns frore, and cold perf