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Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature

By Charles Mackay
Mackay, Charles (1814-1889)

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STUDIES FROM THE ANTIQUE.
  
THE EUMENIDES:
  
ASTRÆA;
  
ACANTHA.
  
MARSYAS.
  
THE WISH OF MIDAS.
  
PROTEUS.
  
BACCHUS AND EVANTHE.
  
THE VESTAL FIRE EXTINGUISHED.
  
CHIRON.
  
DYNAMENE.
  
SISYPHUS.
  
MOMUS.
  
IPHIANASSA IN DODONA.
  
THE PRAYER OF THE PRIEST OF ISIS.
  
IARCHUS AND HIS RINGS.
  
THE GARDEN OF NEMESIS.
  
ADMETUS.
  
THE DREAM OF ANACREON.
  
PHIDIAS.
  
CASSANDRA.
  
ENCELADUS.
  
ORPHEUS IN THRACE.
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SKETCHES FROM NATURE.
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HEART-SORE IN BABYLON.
 I. 
No. I.—SELF-ASSERTION.
 II. 
No. II.—THE RIGHT TO DISDAIN.
 III. 
No. III.—A PRAYER FOR REST.
 IV. 
No. IV.—LOSSES.
 V. 
No. V.—NEVER ALONE.
 VI. 
No. VI.—A NAME ON A TREE.
 VII. 
No. VII.—CONSOLATION.
 VIII. 
No. VIII.—THE LOST JEWEL.
 IX. 
No. IX.—THE FAIR SERPENT.
 X. 
No. X.—THE DIRTY LITTLE SNOB.
 XI. 
No. XI.—THE WORN-OUT PEN.
 XII. 
No. XII.—THE SURE ESTATE.
  
LOUISE ON THE DOOR-STEP.
  
GREAT-GRANDFATHER.
  
THE SIGH OF THE PINE-TREES.
  
THE FIGHT IN THE SANCTUARY.
  
THE OLD MAN BY THE RIVER.
  
THE HEDGE IN THE GREEN LANE.
  
THE IVY AND THE BELL.
  
THE GREAT OVERTHROW.
  
ITHURIEL.
  
IN THE GREENWOOD.
  
THE TOP SAWYER OF ROTTENTOWN,
  
THE POOL OF ST. FILLANS.
  
THE BEAUTIFUL UNBEAUTIFUL.
  
THE KING'S VISITORS.
  
APPLES.
  
THE “WAR-CHRISTIAN.”
  
FLOWERS AND CHILDREN.
  
THE RED AND YELLOW LEAF IN OCTOBER.
  
THE RIM OF THE BOWL.
  
THE NOBLE SPIRITS.
  
THE BARD'S LAST SONG.
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SONGS.
  
DYING.
  
THE BROOK.
  
VANITY LET IT BE.
  
SPIRITS AND ANGELS.
  
LOVE DEFENDED.
  
LOVE IS DEAD.
  
BAR THE DOOR.
  
THE LITTLE MAN.
  
A CHRISTMAS GLEE.
  
HEY! THE GREEN HOLLY!
  
THE BONNIE WEE BIRD.
  
OUR SOCIAL REPUBLIC.
  
THE CHOICE.
  
THERE'S A LAND, A DEAR LAND.
  
COME IF YOU DARE!

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199

THE BEAUTIFUL UNBEAUTIFUL.

Wife or maiden, fresh and fair,
What avails thy sunbright hair,
Rolling o'er thy shoulders free,
Like the full tide of the sea,
Kissing the white sands wantonly?
What avail thy glancing eyes,
Blue as nights in Paradise?
Or the fire that in them lies,
Though it might make pale the morn,
If thou'rt hard of heart and scorn,
Or hast set thyself on high
For thine own idolatry?
200

If thou love thyself alone,
Every beauty now thine own
Would be better carved in stone.
Every winsome charm or grace
Of the eye, the voice, the face,
Comes from spirit throned within—
All the rest is husk of sin.
If we search the wide world through,
None can please us but the true.
Beauty is the growth of mind;
None are lovely but the kind.
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