Dicta et facta.
Said and done. Done as soon as said.
Actum ne agas.
Do not do what is already done.
Action is transitory, a step, a blow,
The motion of a muscle—this way or that.
ADMIRATION
"Not to admire, is all the art I know
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)
To make men happy, or to keep them so,"
(So take it in the very words of Creech)
Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago;
And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach
From his translation; but had none admired.
Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?
No nobler feeling than this, of admiration for
one higher than himself, dwells in the breast of
man. It is to this hour, and at all hours, the
vivifying influence in man's life.
To admire nothing, (as most are wont to do;)
Is the only method that I know,
To make men happy, and to keep them so.
Heroes themselves had fallen behind!
—Whene'er he went before.
On dit que dans ses amours
Il fut caressé des belles,
Qui le suivirent tou jours,
Tant qu'il marcha devant elles.
The king himself has follow'd her
When she has walk'd before.
ADVENTURE
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,
And unknown regions dare descry.
- * * and now expecting
Each hour their great adventurer, from the search
Of foreign worlds.
Qui ne s'adventure n'a cheval ny mule, ce dist Salomon.—Qui trop, dist Echephron, s'adventure—perd cheval et mule, respondit Malcon.
He who has not an adventure has not horse or mule, so says Solomon.—Who is too adventurous, said Echephron,—loses horse and mule, replied Malcon.
ADVERSITY
(See also Affliction)
And these vicissitudes come best in youth;
For when they happen at a riper age,
People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth,
And wonder Providence is not more sage.
Adversity is the first path to truth:
He who hath proved war, storm or woman's rage,
Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty,
Has won the experience which is deem'd so weighty.
Aromatic plants bestow
No spicy fragrance while they grow;
But crush'd or trodden to the ground,
Diffuse their balmy sweets around.
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best!
