772
WHITTIER: _The Pageant,_ St. 8

But, oh! fell death's untimely frost
That nipt my flower sae early.
773
BURNS: _Highland Mary._


=Fruit.=

The ripest fruit first falls.
774
SHAKS.: _Richard II.,_ Act ii., Sc. 1.


=Fury.=

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
775
CONGREVE: _Mourning Bride,_ Act iii., Sc. 8.

Beware the fury of a patient man.
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DRYDEN: _Absalom and Achitophel,_ Pt. i., Line 1005.


=Futurity.=