The way to bliss lies not on beds of down,
  And he that had no cross deserves no crown.
Esther.  F. QUARLES.

HATE.

Who love too much hate in the like extreme. The Odyssey.  HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

  These two hated with a hate
  Found only on the stage.
Don Juan, Canto IV.  LORD BYRON.

  Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
  Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
The Mourning Bride, Act iii. Sc. 8.  W. CONGREVE.

HEART.

  Oh, the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,—­
  A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing.
The Captive Greek Girl.  J. PARDOE.

  His heart was one of those which most enamor us,
  Wax to receive, and marble to retain.
Beppo.  LORD BYRON.

  There is an evening twilight of the heart,
  When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
Twilight.  F-G.  HALLECK.

Worse than a bloody hand is a bloody heart. The Cenci, Act v. Sc. 2.  P.B.  SHELLEY.

Who, for the poor renown of being smart,
Would leave a sting within a brother’s heart?
Love of Fame, Satire II.  DR. E. YOUNG.

Nor peace nor ease the heart can know,
Which, like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe,
But, turning, trembles too.
A Prayer for Indifference.  MRS. F.M.  GREVILLE.

                     Here the heart
  May give a useful lesson to the head,
  And Learning wiser grow without his books.
The Task:  Winter Walk at Noon.  W. COWPER.

My heart
Is true as steel.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii.  Sc. 1.  SHAKESPEARE.

HEAVEN.

A heart bestowed on heaven alone. The Corsair.  LORD BYRON.

  If God hath made this world so fair,
    Where sin and death abound,
  How beautiful, beyond compare,
    Will Paradise be found!
The Earth Full of God’s Goodness.  J. MONTGOMERY.

  This world is all a fleeting show,
    For man’s illusion given;
  The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
    Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,—­
  There’s nothing true but Heaven!
Sacred Songs:  The world is all a fleeting show.  T. MOORE.

Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love.
The Issues of Life and Death.  J. MONTGOMERY.

                   No, no, I’m sure,
  My restless spirit never could endure
  To brood so long upon one luxury,
  Unless it did, though fearfully, espy
  A hope beyond the shadow of a dream
Endymion, Bk.  I.  J. KEATS.

HEAVEN—­HELL.

’Tis sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.
Burial of the Dead.  J. KEBLE.