He pick'd the earliest strawberries in the woods,
The cluster'd filberts, and the purple grapes ;
He taught a prating stare to speak my name;
And when he found a nest of nightingales,
Or callow linnets, he would show 'em me,
And let me take 'em out.

The World void without them.

How dreary and lone
The world would appear,
If women were none !

"Twould be like a fair,

With neither fun nor business there.

Without their smile,

Life would be tasteless, vain, and vile;

A chaos of perplexity;

A body without a soul 'twould be ;

A roving spirit, borne

Upon the winds forlorn;

A tree without or flowers or fruit ;

A reason with no resting-place,
A castle with no governor to it;

A house without a base.
What are we, what our race,
How good for nothing and base,
Without fair woman to aid us!

What could we do, where should we go,
How should we wander in night and woe,
But for woman to lead us!

Dryden.

How could we love, if woman were not :

Love, the brightest part of our lot;

Love, the only charm of living;

Love, the only gift worth giving ?—

Who would take charge of your house, say who,—

Kitchen, and dairy, and money-chest,—

Who but the women, who guard them best,

Guard, and adorn them too!

Who like them has a constant smile,

Full of peace, of meekness full,

When life's edge is blunt and dull,
And sorrow and sin, in frowning file,
Stand by the path in which we go
Down to the grave through wasting woe?
All that is good is theirs, is theirs,—
All we give and all we get;

And if a beam of glory yet

Over the gloomy earth appears,

O'tis theirs! O'tis theirs!

They are the guard, the soul, the seal

Of human hope and human weal;

They, they,-none but they ;

Woman,-sweet woman!-let none say nay!

Christóval de Castillejo.

All the World to Man.

Man without woman's a beggar,

Suppose the whole world he possess'd;
And the beggar that's got a good woman,

With more than the world he is blest.

Cowper.

Her Domestic Worth.

Seek to be good, but aim not to be great:
A woman's noblest station is retreat;
Her fairest virtues fly from public sight,

Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.

Lyttelton.

Her innate Worth.

All her excellences stand in her so silently, as if they had stolen upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparel, which is herself, is far better than outsides of tissue; for though she be not arrayed in the spoil of the silkworm, she is decked in innocence-a far better wearing. Overbury.

Her true Worth unknown until severely Tested.

No man knows what the wife of his bosom is-no man knows what a ministering angel she is—until he has gone with her through the fiery trials of this world.

Washington Irving.

'Tis not in Hymen's gay propitious hour,
With summer beams and genial breezes blest,
That man a Consort's worth approveth best :
"Tis when the skies with gloomy tempests lour,

When cares and sorrows all their torrents pour,
She clasps him closer to her hallow'd breast,
Pillows his head, and lays his heart to rest;
Drying her cheek from sympathetic shower.
Thus when along Calabria's sulph'rous coast,
Whilst lurid clouds hang low, and heaves the sea,
In dumb suspense, as one in horror lost,

Nature awaits some fell catastrophe ;
The flight of selfish fowl no partner shares,
But faithful turtles refuge seek in pairs.

Drummond.

In her declining Years.

Evening comes at last, serene and mild;
When, after the long vernal day of life,
Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells
With many a proof of recollected love,
Together down they sink in social sleep;
Together freed, their gentle spirits fly

To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign.

Thomson.

L'Enboi.

If thou hast read all this book, and art neber the better, yet catch this flower before thou go out of the garden, and peradventure the scent thereof will bring thee back to smell the rest.

Henry Smith.

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