Thursday, May 14, 2009

Familiar Quotations - Part 5

_The Church Porch._

The worst speak something good; if all want sense,
God takes a text, and preacheth Pa-ti-ence.

_The Church Porch._

Bibles laid open, millions of surprises.


Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.

_The Church Militant._

Man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him.


If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to my breast.

_The Pulley._

The fineness which a hymn or psalm affords
If when the soul unto the lines accords.

_A True Hymn._

Wouldst thou both eat thy cake and have it?[205-2]

_The Size._

Do well and right, and let the world sink.[205-3]

_Country Parson. Chap. xxix._

His bark is worse than his bite.

_Jacula Prudentum._

After death the doctor.[205-4]

_Jacula Prudentum._

Hell is full of good meanings and wishings.[205-5]

_Jacula Prudentum._

No sooner is a temple built to God, but the Devil builds a chapel
hard by.[206-1]

_Jacula Prudentum._

God's mill grinds slow, but sure.[206-2]

_Jacula Prudentum._

The offender never pardons.[206-3]

_Jacula Prudentum._

It is a poor sport that is not worth the candle.

_Jacula Prudentum._

To a close-shorn sheep God gives wind by measure.[206-4]

_Jacula Prudentum._

The lion is not so fierce as they paint him.[206-5]

_Jacula Prudentum._

Help thyself, and God will help thee.[206-6]

_Jacula Prudentum._

Words are women, deeds are men.[206-7]

_Jacula Prudentum._

The mouse that hath but one hole is quickly taken.[206-8]

_Jacula Prudentum._

A dwarf on a giant's shoulders sees farther of the two.[206-9]

_Jacula Prudentum._


And he that does one fault at first,
And lies to hide it, makes it two.

WATTS: _Song xv._

[205-2] See Heywood, page 20. BICKERSTAFF: _Thomas and Sally._

[205-3] Ruat coelum, fiat voluntas tua (Though the sky fall, let
Thy will be done).--SIR T. BROWNE: _Religio Medici, part ii. sect.

[205-4] After the war, aid.--_Greek proverb._

After me the deluge.--MADAME DE POMPADOUR.

[205-5] Hell is paved with good intentions.--DR. JOHNSON
(Boswell's _Life of Johnson, Annus 1775_.)

[206-1] See Burton, page 192.

[206-2] Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind
exceeding small.--F. VON LOGAU (1614-1655): _Retribution_

[206-3] They ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.--DRYDEN: _The
Conquest of Grenada._

[206-4] God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.--STERNE:
_Sentimental Journey._

[206-5] The lion is not so fierce as painted.--FULLER: _Expecting

[206-6] God helps those who help themselves.--SIDNEY: _Discourses
on Government, sect. xxiii._ FRANKLIN: _Poor Richard's Almanac._

[206-7] Words are men's daughters, but God's sons are things.--DR.
MADDEN: _Boulter's Monument_ (supposed to have been inserted by
Dr. Johnson, 1745).

[206-8] See Chaucer, page 4.

[206-9] See Burton, page 185.

IZAAK WALTON. 1593-1683.

Of which, if thou be a severe, sour-complexioned man, then I here
disallow thee to be a competent judge.

_The Complete Angler. Author's Preface._

Angling may be said to be so like the mathematics that it can
never be fully learnt.

_The Complete Angler. Author's Preface._

As no man is born an artist, so no man is born an angler.

_The Complete Angler. Author's Preface._

I shall stay him no longer than to wish him a rainy evening to
read this following discourse; and that if he be an honest
angler, the east wind may never blow when he goes a fishing.

_The Complete Angler. Author's Preface._

As the Italians say, Good company in a journey makes the way to
seem the shorter.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

I am, sir, a Brother of the Angle.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

It [angling] deserves commendations; . . . it is an art worthy
the knowledge and practice of a wise man.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

Angling is somewhat like poetry,--men are to be born so.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

Doubt not but angling will prove to be so pleasant that it will
prove to be, like virtue, a reward to itself.[207-1]

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

Sir Henry Wotton was a most dear lover and a frequent practiser
of the Art of Angling; of which he would say, "'T was an
employment for his idle time, which was then not idly spent, a
rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of
sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a
procurer of contentedness;" and "that it begat habits of peace
and patience in those that professed and practised it."

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

You will find angling to be like the virtue of humility, which
has a calmness of spirit and a world of other blessings attending
upon it.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 1._

I remember that a wise friend of mine did usually say, "That
which is everybody's business is nobody's business."

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. ii._

Good company and good discourse are the very sinews of virtue.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. ii._

An excellent angler, and now with God.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. iv._

Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. iv._

No man can lose what he never had.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. v._

We may say of angling as Dr. Boteler[208-1] said of strawberries:
"Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God
never did;" and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a
more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. v._

Thus use your frog: put your hook--I mean the arming
wire--through his mouth and out at his gills, and then with a
fine needle and silk sew the upper part of his leg with only one
stitch to the arming wire of your hook, or tie the frog's leg
above the upper joint to the armed wire; and in so doing use him
as though you loved him.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 8._

This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 8._

Health is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of,--a
blessing that money cannot buy.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 21._

And upon all that are lovers of virtue, and dare trust in his
Providence, and be quiet and go a-angling.

_The Complete Angler. Part i. Chap. 21._

But God, who is able to prevail, wrestled with him; marked him
for his own.[208-2]

_Life of Donne._

The great secretary of Nature,--Sir Francis Bacon.[208-3]

_Life of Herbert._

Oh, the gallant fisher's life!
It is the best of any;
'T is full of pleasure, void of strife,
And 't is beloved by many.

_The Angler._ (John Chalkhill.)[209-1]


[207-1] Virtue is her own reward.--DRYDEN: _Tyrannic Love, act
iii. sc. 1._

Virtue is to herself the best reward.--HENRY MORE: _Cupid's

Virtue is its own reward.--PRIOR: _Imitations of Horace, book iii.
ode 2._ GAY: _Epistle to Methuen._ HOME: _Douglas, act iii. sc.

Virtue was sufficient of herself for happiness.--DIOGENES
LAERTIUS: _Plato, xlii._

Ipsa quidem virtus sibimet pulcherrima merces (Virtue herself is
her own fairest reward).--SILIUS ITALICUS (25?-99): _Punica, lib.
xiii. line 663._

[208-1] William Butler, styled by Dr. Fuller in his "Worthies"
(Suffolk) the "Æsculapius of our age." He died in 1621. This first
appeared in the second edition of "The Angler," 1655. Roger
Williams, in his "Key into the Language of America," 1643, p. 98,
says: "One of the chiefest doctors of England was wont to say,
that God could have made, but God never did make, a better berry."

[208-2] Melancholy marked him for her own.--GRAY: _The Epitaph._

[208-3] Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates are secretaries of
Nature.--HOWELL: _Letters, book ii. letter xi._

[209-1] In 1683, the year in which he died, Walton prefixed a
preface to a work edited by him: "Thealma and Clearchus, a
Pastoral History, in smooth and easy verse: written long since by
John Chalkhill Esq., an aquaintant and friend of Edmund Spenser."

Chalkhill,--a name unappropriated, a verbal phantom, a shadow of a
shade. Chalkhill is no other than our old piscatory friend
incognito.--ZOUCH: _Life of Walton._

JAMES SHIRLEY. 1596-1666.

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.

_Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. Sc. 3._

Only the actions of the just[209-2]
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.[209-3]

_Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. Sc. 3._

Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.

_Cupid and Death._


The sweet remembrance of the just
Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.

TATE AND BRADY: _Psalm cxxii. 6._

[209-3] "Their dust" in _Works_ edited by Dyce.

SAMUEL BUTLER. 1600-1680.

And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist instead of a stick.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 11._

We grant, although he had much wit,
He was very shy of using it.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 45._

Beside, 't is known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs squeak;[210-1]
That Latin was no more difficile
Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 51._

He could distinguish and divide
A hair 'twixt south and southwest side.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 67._

For rhetoric, he could not ope
His mouth, but out there flew a trope.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 81._

For all a rhetorician's rules
Teach nothing but to name his tools.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 89._

A Babylonish dialect
Which learned pedants much affect.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 93._

For he by geometric scale
Could take the size of pots of ale.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 121._

And wisely tell what hour o' the day
The clock does strike, by algebra.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 125._

Whatever sceptic could inquire for,
For every why he had a wherefore.[210-2]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 131._

Where entity and quiddity,
The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 145._

He knew what 's what,[210-3] and that 's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 149._

Such as take lodgings in a head
That 's to be let unfurnished.[210-4]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 161._

'T was Presbyterian true blue.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 191._

And prove their doctrine orthodox,
By apostolic blows and knocks.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 199._

As if religion was intended
For nothing else but to be mended.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 205._

Compound for sins they are inclined to,
By damning those they have no mind to.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 215._

The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty,
For want of fighting was grown rusty,
And ate into itself, for lack
Of somebody to hew and hack.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 359._

For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 463._

He ne'er consider'd it, as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth.[211-1]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 490._

And force them, though it was in spite
Of Nature and their stars, to write.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 647._

Quoth Hudibras, "I smell a rat![211-2]
Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate."

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 821._

Or shear swine, all cry and no wool.[211-3]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 852._

And bid the devil take the hin'most.[211-4]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto ii. Line 633._

With many a stiff thwack, many a bang,
Hard crab-tree and old iron rang.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto ii. Line 831._

Like feather bed betwixt a wall
And heavy brunt of cannon ball.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto ii. Line 872._

Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron![211-5]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 1._

Who thought he 'd won
The field as certain as a gun.[211-6]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 11._

Nor do I know what is become
Of him, more than the Pope of Rome.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 263._

I 'll make the fur
Fly 'bout the ears of the old cur.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 277._

He had got a hurt
O' the inside, of a deadlier sort.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 309._

These reasons made his mouth to water.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 379._

While the honour thou hast got
Is spick and span new.[212-1]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 398._

With mortal crisis doth portend
My days to appropinque an end.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 589._

For those that run away and fly,
Take place at least o' the enemy.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 609._

I am not now in fortune's power:
He that is down can fall no lower.[212-2]

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 877._

Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 1011._

If he that in the field is slain
Be in the bed of honour lain,
He that is beaten may be said
To lie in honour's truckle-bed.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 1047._

When pious frauds and holy shifts
Are dispensations and gifts.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 1145._

Friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable[212-3] at last.

_Hudibras. Part i. Canto iii. Line 1367._

Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands with latter,
And that which was before come after.
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think 's sufficient at one time.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 23._

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel 's of by th' blow;
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 221._

No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 273._

Quoth she, I 've heard old cunning stagers
Say fools for arguments use wagers.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 297._

Love in your hearts as idly burns
As fire in antique Roman urns.[213-1]

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 309._

For what is worth in anything
But so much money as 't will bring?

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 465._

Love is a boy by poets styl'd;
Then spare the rod and spoil the child.[213-2]

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto i. Line 843._

The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn
From black to red began to turn.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 29._

Have always been at daggers-drawing,
And one another clapper-clawing.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 79._

For truth is precious and divine,--
Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 257._

Why should not conscience have vacation
As well as other courts o' th' nation?

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 317._

He that imposes an oath makes it,
Not he that for convenience takes it;
Then how can any man be said
To break an oath he never made?

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 377._

As the ancients
Say wisely, have a care o' th' main chance,[214-1]
And look before you ere you leap;[214-2]
For as you sow, ye are like to reap.[214-3]

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto ii. Line 501._

Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat.[214-4]

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1._

He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 261._

Each window like a pill'ry appears,
With heads thrust thro' nail'd by the ears.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 391._

To swallow gudgeons ere they 're catch'd,
And count their chickens ere they 're hatch'd.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 923._

There 's but the twinkling of a star
Between a man of peace and war.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 957._

But Hudibras gave him a twitch
As quick as lightning in the breech,
Just in the place where honour 's lodg'd,
As wise philosophers have judg'd;
Because a kick in that part more
Hurts honour than deep wounds before.

_Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1065._

As men of inward light are wont
To turn their optics in upon 't.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 481._

Still amorous and fond and billing,
Like Philip and Mary on a shilling.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 687._

What makes all doctrines plain and clear?
About two hundred pounds a year.
And that which was prov'd true before
Prove false again? Two hundred more.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 1277._

'Cause grace and virtue are within
Prohibited degrees of kin;
And therefore no true saint allows
They shall be suffer'd to espouse.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 1293._

Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick,
Though he gave his name to our Old Nick.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 1313._

With crosses, relics, crucifixes,
Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes,--
The tools of working our salvation
By mere mechanic operation.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto i. Line 1495._

True as the dial to the sun,[215-1]
Although it be not shin'd upon.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto ii. Line 175._

But still his tongue ran on, the less
Of weight it bore, with greater ease.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto ii. Line 443._

For those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that 's slain.[215-2]

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto iii. Line 243._

He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto iii. Line 547._

With books and money plac'd for show
Like nest-eggs to make clients lay,
And for his false opinion pay.

_Hudibras. Part iii. Canto iii. Line 624._

And poets by their sufferings grow,[216-1]--
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
But only want and discontent.



He Greek and Latin speaks with greater ease
Than hogs eat acorns, and tame pigeons peas.

CRANFIELD: _Panegyric on Tom Coriate._

[210-2] See Shakespeare, page 50.

[210-3] See Skelton, page 8.

[210-4] See Bacon, page 170.

[211-1] See Heywood, page 11.

[211-2] See Middleton, page 172.

[211-3] See Fortescue, page 7.

[211-4] Bid the Devil take the slowest.--PRIOR: _On the Taking of

Deil tak the hindmost.--BURNS: _To a Haggis._

[211-5] See Spenser, page 27.

[211-6] Sure as a gun.--DRYDEN: _The Spanish Friar, act iii. sc.
2._ CERVANTES: _Don Quixote, part i. book iii. chap. vii._

[212-1] See Middleton, page 172.

[212-2] He that is down needs fear no fall.--BUNYAN: _Pilgrim's
Progress, part ii._

[212-3] Outrun the constable.--RAY: _Proverbs, 1670._

Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,
Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.

COWPER: _Conversation, line 357._

[213-2] See Skelton, page 8.

[214-1] See Lyly, page 33.

[214-2] See Heywood, page 9.

[214-3] Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also
reap.--_Galatians vi._

[214-4] This couplet is enlarged on by Swift in his "Tale of a
Tub," where he says that the happiness of life consists in being
well deceived.

True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun.


Let who will boast their courage in the field,
I find but little safety from my shield.
Nature's, not honour's, law we must obey:
This made me cast my useless shield away.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save
A life, which valour could not, from the grave.
A better buckler I can soon regain;
But who can get another life again?

ARCHILOCHUS: _Fragm. 6._ (Quoted by Plutarch, _Customs of the

Sed omissis quidem divinis exhortationibus illum magis Græcum
versiculum secularis sententiæ sibi adhibent, "Qui fugiebat,
rursus proeliabitur:" ut et rursus forsitan fugiat (But
overlooking the divine exhortations, they act rather upon that
Greek verse of worldly significance, "He who flees will fight
again," and that perhaps to betake himself again to
flight).--TERTULLIAN: _De Fuga in Persecutione, c. 10._

The corresponding Greek, Anêr o pheugôn kai palin machêsetai, is
ascribed to Menander. See _Fragments_ (appended to Aristophanes in
Didot's _Bib. Græca_,), p. 91.

That same man that runnith awaie
Maie again fight an other daie.

ERASMUS: _Apothegms, 1542_ (translated by Udall).

Celuy qui fuit de bonne heure
Pent combattre derechef
(He who flies at the right time can fight again).

_Satyre Menippée_ (1594).

Qui fuit peut revenir aussi;
Qui meurt, il n'en est pas ainsi
(He who flies can also return; but it is not so with him who dies).

SCARRON (1610-1660).

He that fights and runs away
May turn and fight another day;
But he that is in battle slain
Will never rise to fight again.

RAY: _History of the Rebellion_ (1752), _p. 48._

For he who fights and runs away
May live to fight another day;
But he who is in battle slain
Can never rise and fight again.

GOLDSMITH: _The Art of Poetry on a New Plan_ (1761), _vol. ii.
p. 147._

Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong;
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.

SHELLEY: _Julian and Maddalo._


The assembled souls of all that men held wise.

_Gondibert. Book ii. Canto v. Stanza 37._

Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy,
It is not safe to know.[217-1]

_The Just Italian. Act v. Sc. 1._

For angling-rod he took a sturdy oake;[217-2]
For line, a cable that in storm ne'er broke;
His hooke was such as heads the end of pole
To pluck down house ere fire consumes it whole;
The hook was baited with a dragon's tale,--
And then on rock he stood to bob for whale.

_Britannia Triumphans. Page 15. 1637._


[217-1] From ignorance our comfort flows.--PRIOR: _To the Hon.
Charles Montague._

Where ignorance is bliss,
'T is folly to be wise.

GRAY: _Eton College, Stanza 10._

For angling rod he took a sturdy oak;
For line, a cable that in storm ne'er broke;
. . . . . .
His hook was baited with a dragon's tail,--
And then on rock he stood to bob for whale.

From _The Mock Romance_, a rhapsody attached to _The Loves of Hero
and Leander_, published in London in the years 1653 and 1677.
Chambers's _Book of Days, vol. i. p. 173._ DANIEL: _Rural Sports,
Supplement, p. 57._

His angle-rod made of a sturdy oak;
His line, a cable which in storms ne'er broke;
His hook he baited with a dragon's tail,--
And sat upon a rock, and bobb'd for whale.

WILLIAM KING (1663-1712): _Upon a Giant's Angling_ (In Chalmers's
"British Poets" ascribed to King.)


Too rashly charged the troops of error, and remain as trophies
unto the enemies of truth.

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. vi._

Rich with the spoils of Nature.[217-3]

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. xiii._

Nature is the art of God.[218-1]

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. xvi._

The thousand doors that lead to death.[218-2]

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. xliv._

The heart of man is the place the Devil 's in: I feel sometimes a
hell within myself.[218-3]

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. li._

There is no road or ready way to virtue.

_Religio Medici. Part i. Sect. lv._

It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many million of
faces there should be none alike.[218-4]

_Religio Medici. Part ii. Sect. ii._

There is music in the beauty, and the silent note which Cupid
strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument; for there
is music wherever there is harmony, order, or proportion; and
thus far we may maintain the music of the spheres.[218-5]

_Religio Medici. Part ii. Sect. ix._

Sleep is a death; oh, make me try
By sleeping what it is to die,
And as gently lay my head
On my grave as now my bed!

_Religio Medici. Part ii. Sect. xii._

Ruat coelum, fiat voluntas tua.[218-6]

_Religio Medici. Part ii. Sect. xii._

Times before you, when even living men were antiquities,--when
the living might exceed the dead, and to depart this world could
not be properly said to go unto the greater number.[219-1]

_Dedication to Urn-Burial._

I look upon you as gem of the old rock.[219-2]

_Dedication to Urn-Burial._

Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes and pompous in the

_Dedication to Urn-Burial. Chap. v._

Quietly rested under the drums and tramplings of three conquests.

_Dedication to Urn-Burial. Chap. v._

Herostratus lives that burnt the temple of Diana; he is almost
lost that built it.[219-3]

_Dedication to Urn-Burial. Chap. v._

What song the Sirens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he
hid himself among women.

_Dedication to Urn-Burial. Chap. v._

When we desire to confine our words, we commonly say they are
spoken under the rose.

_Vulgar Errors._


[217-3] Rich with the spoils of time.--GRAY: _Elegy, stanza 13._

[218-1] The course of Nature is the art of God.--YOUNG: _Night
Thoughts, night ix. line 1267._

[218-2] See Massinger, page 194.

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

MILTON: _Paradise Lost, book i. line 253._

[218-4] The human features and countenance, although composed of
but some ten parts or little more, are so fashioned that among so
many thousands of men there are no two in existence who cannot be
distinguished from one another.--PLINY: _Natural History, book
vii. chap. i._

Of a thousand shavers, two do not shave so much alike as not to be
distinguished.--JOHNSON (1777).

There never were in the world two opinions alike, no more than two
hairs or two grains; the most universal quality is
diversity.--MONTAIGNE: _Of the Resemblance of Children to their
Fathers, book i. chap. xxxvii._

Oh, could you view the melody
Of every grace
And music of her face.

LOVELACE: _Orpheus to Beasts._

[218-6] See Herbert, page 204.

[219-1] 'T is long since Death had the majority.--BLAIR: _The
Grave, part ii. line 449._

[219-2] Adamas de rupe præstantissimus (A most excellent diamond
from the rock).

A chip of the old block.--PRIOR: _Life of Burke._

The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome
Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it.

CIBBER: _Richard III. act iii. sc. 1._

EDMUND WALLER. 1605-1687.

The yielding marble of her snowy breast.

_On a Lady passing through a Crowd of People._

That eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which on the shaft that made him die
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.[219-4]

_To a Lady singing a Song of his Composing._

A narrow compass! and yet there
Dwelt all that 's good, and all that 's fair;
Give me but what this riband bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round.

_On a Girdle._

For all we know
Of what the blessed do above
Is, that they sing, and that they love.

_While I listen to thy Voice._

Poets that lasting marble seek
Must come in Latin or in Greek.

_Of English Verse._

Under the tropic is our language spoke,
And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.

_Upon the Death of the Lord Protector._

Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.

_Go, Lovely Rose._

How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

_Go, Lovely Rose._

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,
And every conqueror creates a muse.

_Panegyric on Cromwell._

In such green palaces the first kings reign'd,
Slept in their shades, and angels entertain'd;
With such old counsellors they did advise,
And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise.

_On St. James's Park._

And keeps the palace of the soul.[221-1]

_Of Tea._

Poets lose half the praise they should have got,
Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

_Upon Roscommon's Translation of Horace, De Arte Poetica._

Could we forbear dispute and practise love,
We should agree as angels do above.

_Divine Love. Canto iii._

The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.[221-2]
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home:
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

_On the Divine Poems._


So in the Libyan fable it is told
That once an eagle, stricken with a dart,
Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,
"With our own feathers, not by others' hands,
Are we now smitten."

ÆSCHYLUS: _Fragm. 123_ (Plumptre's Translation).

So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.

BYRON: _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, line 826._

Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
See their own feathers pluck'd to wing the dart
Which rank corruption destines for their heart.

THOMAS MOORE: _Corruption._

[221-1] The dome of thought, the palace of the soul.--BYRON:
_Childe Harold, canto ii. stanza 6._

[221-2] See Daniel, page 39.

To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.--ROGERS: _Pæstum._

THOMAS FULLER. 1608-1661.

Drawing near her death, she sent most pious thoughts as
harbingers to heaven; and her soul saw a glimpse of happiness
through the chinks of her sickness-broken body.

_Life of Monica._

He was one of a lean body and visage, as if his eager soul,
biting for anger at the clog of his body, desired to fret a
passage through it.[221-3]

_Life of the Duke of Alva._

She commandeth her husband, in any equal matter, by constant
obeying him.

_Holy and Profane State. The Good Wife._

He knows little who will tell his wife all he knows.

_Holy and Profane State. The Good Husband._

One that will not plead that cause wherein his tongue must be
confuted by his conscience.

_Holy and Profane State. The Good Advocate._

A little skill in antiquity inclines a man to Popery; but depth
in that study brings him about again to our religion.[222-1]

_Holy and Profane State. The True Church Antiquary._

But our captain counts the image of God--nevertheless his
image--cut in ebony as if done in ivory, and in the blackest
Moors he sees the representation of the King of Heaven.

_Holy and Profane State. The Good Sea-Captain._

To smell to a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the body; no
less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul.

_Holy and Profane State. The Virtuous Lady._

The lion is not so fierce as painted.[222-2]

_Holy and Profane State. Of Preferment._

Their heads sometimes so little that there is no room for wit;
sometimes so long that there is no wit for so much room.

_Holy and Profane State. Of Natural Fools._

The Pyramids themselves, doting with age, have forgotten the
names of their founders.

_Holy and Profane State. Of Tombs._

Learning hath gained most by those books by which the printers
have lost.

_Holy and Profane State. Of Books._

They that marry ancient people, merely in expectation to bury
them, hang themselves in hope that one will come and cut the

_Holy and Profane State. Of Marriage._

Fame sometimes hath created something of nothing.

_Holy and Profane State. Fame._

Often the cockloft is empty in those whom Nature hath built many
stories high.[222-3]

_Andronicus. Sect. vi. Par. 18, 1._


A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay.

DRYDEN: _Absalom and Achitophel, part i. line 156._

[222-1] See Bacon, p. 166.

[222-2] See Herbert, p. 205.

[222-3] See Bacon, p. 170.

JOHN MILTON. 1608-1674.

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 1._

Or if Sion hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flow'd
Fast by the oracle of God.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 10._

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 16._

What in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support,
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.[223-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 22._

As far as angels' ken.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 59._

Yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 62._

Where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 65._

What though the field be lost?
All is not lost; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 105._

To be weak is miserable,
Doing or suffering.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 157._

And out of good still to find means of evil.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 165._

Farewell happy fields,
Where joy forever dwells: hail, horrors!

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 249._

A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.[224-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 253._

Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 261._

Heard so oft
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Of battle.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 275._

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast
Of some great ammiral were but a wand,
He walk'd with to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 292._

Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
High over-arch'd imbower.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 302._

Awake, arise, or be forever fallen!

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 330._

Spirits when they please
Can either sex assume, or both.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 423._

Execute their airy purposes.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 430._

When night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 500._

Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc'd
Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind.[224-2]

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 536._

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 540._

Anon they move
In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 549._

His form had yet not lost
All her original brightness, nor appear'd
Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess
Of glory obscur'd.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 591._

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 597._

Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 619._

Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 648._

Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell
From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts
Were always downward bent, admiring more
The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold,
Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd
In vision beatific.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 679._

Let none admire
That riches grow in hell: that soil may best
Deserve the precious bane.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 690._

Anon out of the earth a fabric huge
Rose, like an exhalation.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 710._

From morn
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,--
A summer's day; and with the setting sun
Dropp'd from the Zenith like a falling star.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 742._

Fairy elves,
Whose midnight revels by a forest side
Or fountain some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress.

_Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 781._

High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd
To that bad eminence.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1._

Surer to prosper than prosperity
Could have assur'd us.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 39._

The strongest and the fiercest spirit
That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 44._

Rather than be less,
Car'd not to be at all.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 47._

My sentence is for open war.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 51._

That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 75._

When the scourge
Inexorable and the torturing hour
Call us to penance.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 90._

Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 105._

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason,[226-1] to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 112._

Th' ethereal mould
Incapable of stain would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat despair.[226-2]

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 139._

For who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night?

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 146._

His red right hand.[227-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 174._

Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 185._

The never-ending flight
Of future days.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 221._

Our torments also may in length of time
Become our elements.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 274._

With grave
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd
A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat, and public care;
And princely counsel in his face yet shone,
Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood,
With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear
The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look
Drew audience and attention still as night
Or summer's noontide air.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 300._

The palpable obscure.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 406._

Long is the way
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 432._

Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 476._

The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 490._

Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd
Firm concord holds, men only disagree
Of creatures rational.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 496._

In discourse more sweet;
For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense.
Others apart sat on a hill retir'd,
In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high
Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,
Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute;
And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 555._

Vain wisdom all and false philosophy.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 565._

Arm th' obdur'd breast
With stubborn patience as with triple steel.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 568._

A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog
Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old,
Where armies whole have sunk: the parching air
Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire.
Thither by harpy-footed Furies hal'd,
At certain revolutions all the damn'd
Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change
Of fierce extremes,--extremes by change more fierce;
From beds of raging fire to starve in ice
Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine
Immovable, infix'd, and frozen round,
Periods of time; thence hurried back to fire.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 592._

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,
Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 620._

Gorgons and Hydras and Chimæras dire.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 628._

The other shape,
If shape it might be call'd that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;
Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,
For each seem'd either,--black it stood as night,
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell,
And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Satan was now at hand.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 666._

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape?

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 681._

Back to thy punishment,
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 699._

So spake the grisly Terror.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 704._

Incens'd with indignation Satan stood
Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 707._

Their fatal hands
No second stroke intend.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 712._

Grew darker at their frown.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 719._

I fled, and cry'd out, DEATH!
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd
From all her caves, and back resounded, DEATH!

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 787._

Before mine eyes in opposition sits
Grim Death, my son and foe.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 803._

Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be fill'd.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 845._

On a sudden open fly,
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound,
Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 879._

Where eldest Night
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal anarchy amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand;
For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce,
Strive here for mast'ry.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 894._

Into this wild abyss,
The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 910._

To compare
Great things with small.[230-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 921._

O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way,
And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 948._

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 995._

So he with difficulty and labour hard
Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1021._

And fast by, hanging in a golden chain,
This pendent world, in bigness as a star
Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.

_Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1051._

Hail holy light! offspring of heav'n first-born.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 1._

The rising world of waters dark and deep.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 11._

Thoughts that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 37._

Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 40._

Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 99._

See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,
With joy and love triumphing.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 337._

Dark with excessive bright.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 380._

Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars,
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 474._

Since call'd
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 495._

And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill
Where no ill seems.

_Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 686._

The hell within him.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 20._

Now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd,--wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 23._

At whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads.[231-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 34._

A grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharg'd.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 55._

Which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep,
Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 73._

Such joy ambition finds.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 92._

Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 96._

So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost.
Evil, be thou my good.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 108._

That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew,
Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 122._

Sabean odours from the spicy shore
Of Araby the Blest.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 162._

And on the Tree of Life,
The middle tree and highest there that grew,
Sat like a cormorant.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 194._

A heaven on earth.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 208._

Flowers worthy of paradise.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 241._

Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.[232-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 256._

Proserpine gathering flowers,
Herself a fairer flower.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 269._

For contemplation he and valour form'd,
For softness she and sweet attractive grace;
He for God only, she for God in him.
His fair large front and eye sublime declar'd
Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 297._

Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway,
And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,--
Yielded with coy submission, modest pride,
And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 307._

Adam the goodliest man of men since born
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 323._

And with necessity,
The tyrant's plea,[232-2] excus'd his devilish deeds.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 393._

As Jupiter
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
That shed May flowers.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 499._

Imparadis'd in one another's arms.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 506._

Live while ye may,
Yet happy pair.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 533._

Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd. Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 598._

The timely dew of sleep.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 614._

With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons, and their change,--all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful ev'ning mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glist'ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful ev'ning mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 639._

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 677._

In naked beauty more adorn'd,
More lovely than Pandora.[234-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 713._

Eas'd the putting off
These troublesome disguises which we wear.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 739._

Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 750._

Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 800._

Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear
Touch'd lightly; for no falsehood can endure
Touch of celestial temper.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 810._

Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,
The lowest of your throng.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 830._

Abash'd the devil stood,
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how lovely.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 846._

All hell broke loose.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 918._

Like Teneriff or Atlas unremoved.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 987._

The starry cope
Of heaven.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 992._

Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.

_Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 1014._

Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime
Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 1._

Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 13._

My latest found,
Heaven's last, best gift, my ever new delight!

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 18._

Good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 71._

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 153._

Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 166._

A wilderness of sweets.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 294._

Another morn
Ris'n on mid-noon.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 310._

So saying, with despatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 331._

Nor jealousy
Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 449._

The bright consummate flower.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 481._

Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 601._

They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 637._

Satan; so call him now, his former name
Is heard no more in heaven.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 658._

Midnight brought on the dusky hour
Friendliest to sleep and silence.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 667._

Innumerable as the stars of night,
Or stars of morning, dewdrops which the sun
Impearls on every leaf and every flower.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 745._

So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found;
Among the faithless, faithful only he.

_Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 896._

Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarr'd the gates of light.

_Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 2._

Servant of God, well done; well hast thou fought
The better fight.

_Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 29._

Arms on armour clashing bray'd
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots rag'd: dire was the noise
Of conflict.

_Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 209._

Spirits that live throughout,
Vital in every part, not as frail man,
In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins,
Cannot but by annihilating die.

_Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 345._

Far off his coming shone.

_Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 768._

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd
To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days,
On evil days though fall'n, and evil tongues.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 24._

Still govern thou my song,
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 30._

Heaven open'd wide
Her ever during gates, harmonious sound,
On golden hinges moving.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 205._

Hither, as to their fountain, other stars
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 364._

Now half appear'd
The tawny lion, pawing to get free
His hinder parts.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 463._

With sanctity of reason.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 507._

A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold,
And pavement stars,--as stars to thee appear
Seen in the galaxy, that milky way
Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest
Powder'd with stars.

_Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 577._

The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 1._

There swift return
Diurnal, merely to officiate light
Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 21._

And grace that won who saw to wish her stay.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 43._

And touch'd by her fair tendance, gladlier grew.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 47._

With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er,
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 83._

Her silent course advance
With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps
On her soft axle.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 163._

Be lowly wise:
Think only what concerns thee and thy being.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 173._

To know
That which before us lies in daily life
Is the prime wisdom.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 192._

Liquid lapse of murmuring streams.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 263._

And feel that I am happier than I know.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 282._

Among unequals what society
Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 383._

Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 488._

Her virtue and the conscience of her worth,
That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 502._

She what was honour knew,
And with obsequious majesty approv'd
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower
I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven
And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 508._

The sum of earthly bliss.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 522._

So well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 548._

Accuse not Nature: she hath done her part;
Do thou but thine.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 561._

Oft times nothing profits more
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right
Well manag'd.[238-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 571._

Those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies that daily flow
From all her words and actions.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 600._

With a smile that glow'd
Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.

_Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 618._

My unpremeditated verse.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 24._

Pleas'd me, long choosing and beginning late.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 26._

Unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 44._

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 171._

The work under our labour grows,
Luxurious by restraint.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 208._

Smiles from reason flow,
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 239._

For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 249._

At shut of evening flowers.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 278._

As one who long in populous city pent,
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 445._

So gloz'd the tempter.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 549._

Hope elevates, and joy
Brightens his crest.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 633._

Left that command
Sole daughter of his voice.[239-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 652._

Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe
That all was lost.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 782._

In her face excuse
Came prologue, and apology too prompt.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 853._

A pillar'd shade
High overarch'd, and echoing walks between.

_Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 1106._

Yet I shall temper so
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfy'd, and thee appease.

_Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 77._

So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd
His nostril wide into the murky air,
Sagacious of his quarry from so far.

_Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 279._

How gladly would I meet
Mortality my sentence, and be earth
Insensible! how glad would lay me down
As in my mother's lap!

_Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 775._

Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?--thus leave
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 269._

Then purg'd with euphrasy and rue
The visual nerve, for he had much to see.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 414._

Moping melancholy
And moon-struck madness.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 485._

And over them triumphant Death his dart
Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok'd.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 491._

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop
Into thy mother's lap.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 535._

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st
Live well: how long or short permit to heaven.[240-1]

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 553._

A bevy of fair women.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 582._

The brazen throat of war.

_Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 713._

Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wip'd them soon;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.

_Paradise Lost. Book xii. Line 645._

Beauty stands
In the admiration only of weak minds
Led captive.

_Paradise Regained. Book ii. Line 220._

Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd.

_Paradise Regained. Book ii. Line 228._

Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise.

_Paradise Regained. Book iii. Line 56._

Elephants endors'd with towers.

_Paradise Regained. Book iii. Line 329._

Syene, and where the shadow both way falls,
Meroe, Nilotic isle.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 70._

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 76._

The childhood shows the man,
As morning shows the day.[241-1]

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 220._

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 240._

The olive grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird
Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 244._

Thence to the famous orators repair,
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democratie,
Shook the arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece,
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 267._

Socrates . . .
Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd
Wisest of men.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 274._

Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 327._

As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore.
Or if I would delight my private hours
With music or with poem, where so soon
As in our native language can I find
That solace?

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 330._

Till morning fair
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray.

_Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 426._

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse
Without all hope of day!

_Samson Agonistes. Line 80._

The sun to me is dark
And silent as the moon,
When she deserts the night
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 86._

Ran on embattled armies clad in iron,
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 129._

Just are the ways of God,
And justifiable to men;
Unless there be who think not God at all.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 293._

What boots it at one gate to make defence,
And at another to let in the foe?

_Samson Agonistes. Line 560._

But who is this, what thing of sea or land,--
Female of sex it seems,--
That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay,
Comes this way sailing
Like a stately ship
Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles
Of Javan or Gadire,
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,
Sails fill'd, and streamers waving,
Courted by all the winds that hold them play,
An amber scent of odorous perfume
Her harbinger?

_Samson Agonistes. Line 710._

Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power,
After offence returning, to regain
Love once possess'd.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 1003._

He 's gone, and who knows how he may report
Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?

_Samson Agonistes. Line 1350._

For evil news rides post, while good news baits.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 1538._

And as an ev'ning dragon came,
Assailant on the perched roosts
And nests in order rang'd
Of tame villatic fowl.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 1692._

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame,--nothing but well and fair,
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.

_Samson Agonistes. Line 1721._

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
Which men call earth.

_Comus. Line 5._

That golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.

_Comus. Line 13._

The nodding horror of whose shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.

_Comus. Line 38._

I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or song,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.

_Comus. Line 43._

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine.

_Comus. Line 46._

These my sky-robes spun out of Iris' woof.

_Comus. Line 83._

The star that bids the shepherd fold.

_Comus. Line 93._

Midnight shout and revelry,
Tipsy dance and jollity.

_Comus. Line 103._

Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
The nice morn, on th' Indian steep
From her cabin'd loop-hole peep.

_Comus. Line 138._

When the gray-hooded Even,
Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain.

_Comus. Line 188._

A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.

_Comus. Line 205._

O welcome, pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!

_Comus. Line 213._

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

_Comus. Line 221._

Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?

_Comus. Line 244._

How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence through the empty-vaulted night,
At every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smil'd!

_Comus. Line 249._

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

_Comus. Line 256._

Such sober certainty of waking bliss.

_Comus. Line 263._

I took it for a faery vision
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colours of the rainbow live,
And play i' th' plighted clouds.

_Comus. Line 298._

It were a journey like the path to heaven,
To help you find them.

_Comus. Line 303._

With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light.

_Comus. Line 340._

Virtue could see to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self
Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude,
Where with her best nurse Contemplation
She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,
That in the various bustle of resort
Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd.
He that has light within his own clear breast
May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts
Benighted walks under the midday sun.

_Comus. Line 373._

The unsunn'd heaps
Of miser's treasure.

_Comus. Line 398._

'T is chastity, my brother, chastity:
She that has that is clad in complete steel.

_Comus. Line 420._

Some say no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen,
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time,
No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.

_Comus. Line 432._

So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity,
That when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lackey her,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,
And in clear dream and solemn vision
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,
Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants
Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.

_Comus. Line 453._

How charming is divine philosophy!
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo's lute,[245-1]
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets
Where no crude surfeit reigns.

_Comus. Line 476._

And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale.

_Comus. Line 496._

Fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance.

_Comus. Line 550._

I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death.

_Comus. Line 560._

That power
Which erring men call Chance.

_Comus. Line 587._

If this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,
And earth's base built on stubble.

_Comus. Line 597._

The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,
But in another country, as he said,
Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this soil;
Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain
Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon.

_Comus. Line 631._

Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells,
And yet came off.

_Comus. Line 646._

This cordial julep here,
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds.

_Comus. Line 672._

Budge doctors of the Stoic fur.

_Comus. Line 707._

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.

_Comus. Line 727._

It is for homely features to keep home,--
They had their name thence; coarse complexions
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply
The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool.
What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

_Comus. Line 748._

Swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his feeder.

_Comus. Line 776._

Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.

_Comus. Line 790._

His rod revers'd,
And backward mutters of dissevering power.

_Comus. Line 816._

Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.

_Comus. Line 859._

But now my task is smoothly done,
I can fly, or I can run.

_Comus. Line 1012._

Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heav'n itself would stoop to her.

_Comus. Line 1022._

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.

_Lycidas. Line 3._

He knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.

_Lycidas. Line 10._

Without the meed of some melodious tear.

_Lycidas. Line 14._

Under the opening eyelids of the morn.

_Lycidas. Line 26._

But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone and never must return!

_Lycidas. Line 37._

The gadding vine.

_Lycidas. Line 40._

And strictly meditate the thankless Muse.

_Lycidas. Line 66._

To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair.

_Lycidas. Line 68._

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise[247-1]
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears
And slits the thin-spun life.

_Lycidas. Line 70._

Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.

_Lycidas. Line 78._

It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.

_Lycidas. Line 100._

The pilot of the Galilean lake;
Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).

_Lycidas. Line 109._

But that two-handed engine at the door
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.

_Lycidas. Line 130._

Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes
That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet,
The glowing violet,
The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears.

_Lycidas. Line 139._

So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.

_Lycidas. Line 168._

He touch'd the tender stops of various quills,
With eager thought warbling his Doric lay.

_Lycidas. Line 188._

To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.

_Lycidas. Line 193._

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks and wreathed Smiles.

_L'Allegro. Line 25._

Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come and trip it as ye go,
On the light fantastic toe.

_L'Allegro. Line 31._

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

_L'Allegro. Line 36._

And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

_L'Allegro. Line 67._

Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks and rivers wide;
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The cynosure of neighboring eyes.

_L'Allegro. Line 75._

Herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

_L'Allegro. Line 85._

To many a youth and many a maid
Dancing in the chequer'd shade.

_L'Allegro. Line 95._

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.

_L'Allegro. Line 100._

Tower'd cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men.

_L'Allegro. Line 117._

Ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize.

_L'Allegro. Line 121._

Such sights as youthful poets dream
On summer eyes by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Jonson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.

_L'Allegro. Line 129._

And ever against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,[249-1]
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.

_L'Allegro. Line 135._

Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony.

_L'Allegro. Line 143._

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

_Il Penseroso. Line 8._

And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.

_Il Penseroso. Line 39._

Forget thyself to marble.

_Il Penseroso. Line 42._

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.

_Il Penseroso. Line 45._

And add to these retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.

_Il Penseroso. Line 49._

Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!

_Il Penseroso. Line 61._

I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven green,
To behold the wandering moon
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav'n's wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head she bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

_Il Penseroso. Line 65._

Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.

_Il Penseroso. Line 79._

Far from all resort of mirth
Save the cricket on the hearth.

_Il Penseroso. Line 81._

Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.

_Il Penseroso. Line 97._

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

_Il Penseroso. Line 105._

Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold.

_Il Penseroso. Line 109._

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

_Il Penseroso. Line 120._

When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.

_Il Penseroso. Line 128._

Hide me from day's garish eye.

_Il Penseroso. Line 141._

And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.

_Il Penseroso. Line 159._

Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

_Il Penseroso. Line 173._

Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.

_Arcades. Line 68._

Under the shady roof
Of branching elm star-proof.

_Arcades. Line 88._

O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly.

_Ode on the Death of a fair Infant, dying of a Cough._

Such as may make thee search the coffers round.

_At a Vacation Exercise. Line 31._

No war or battle's sound
Was heard the world around.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 53._

Time will run back and fetch the age of gold.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 135._

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 172._

The oracles are dumb,
No voice or hideous hum
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance or breathed spell
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 173._

From haunted spring and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale
The parting genius is with sighing sent.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 184._

Peor and Baälim
Forsake their temples dim.

_Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 197._

What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,--
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?

_Epitaph on Shakespeare._

And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie,
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

_Epitaph on Shakespeare._

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.[251-1]

_Sonnet to the Nightingale._

As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.

_On his being arrived to the Age of Twenty-three._

The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower
Went to the ground.

_When the Assault was intended to the City._

That old man eloquent.

_To the Lady Margaret Ley._

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.

_On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises._

License they mean when they cry, Liberty!
For who loves that must first be wise and good.

_On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises._

Peace hath her victories
No less renown'd than war.

_To the Lord General Cromwell._

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones.

_On the late Massacre in Piedmont._

Thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

_On his Blindness._

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
Of Attic taste?

_To Mr. Lawrence._

In mirth that after no repenting draws.

_Sonnet xxi. To Cyriac Skinner._

For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

_Sonnet xxi. To Cyriac Skinner._

Yet I argue not
Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.

_Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner._

Of which all Europe rings from side to side.

_Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner._

But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd,
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

_On his Deceased Wife._

Have hung
My dank and dropping weeds
To the stern god of sea.

_Translation of Horace. Book i. Ode 5._

For such kind of borrowing as this, if it be not bettered by the
borrower, among good authors is accounted Plagiarè.

_Iconoclastes. xxiii._

Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the

_Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce._

A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his
garland and singing robes about him.

_The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii._

By labour and intent study (which I take to be my portion in this
life), joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might
perhaps leave something so written to after times as they should
not willingly let it die.

_The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii._

Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still
air of delightful studies.

_The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii._

He who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter
in laudable things ought himself to be a true poem.

_Apology for Smectymnuus._

His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him
at command.

_Apology for Smectymnuus._

Litigious terms, fat contentions, and flowing fees.

_Tractate of Education._

I shall detain you no longer in the demonstration of what we
should not do, but straight conduct ye to a hillside, where I
will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble
education; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so
smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect and melodious sounds
on every side that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.

_Tractate of Education._

Enflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue;
stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy
patriots, dear to God, and famous to all ages.

_Tractate of Education._

Ornate rhetorick taught out of the rule of Plato. . . . To which
poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as
being less suttle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and

_Tractate of Education._

In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and
pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to
go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with
heaven and earth.

_Tractate of Education._

Attic tragedies of stateliest and most regal argument.

_Tractate of Education._

As good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man
kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a
good book kills reason itself.


A good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit,
embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.


Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.


I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and
unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but
slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run
for, not without dust and heat.


Who shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper
softness in chambers?


Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing
herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible
locks; methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth,
and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam.


Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the
earth, so Truth be in the field, we do ingloriously, by licensing
and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood
grapple: who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open


Men of most renowned virtue have sometimes by transgressing most
truly kept the law.


By this time, like one who had set out on his way by night, and
travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history
now arrives on the confines, where daylight and truth meet us
with a clear dawn, representing to our view, though at a far
distance, true colours and shapes.

_The History of England. Book i._

Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what
more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows
flocking and fighting in the air?

_The History of England. Book iv._


[223-1] But vindicate the ways of God to man.--POPE: _Essay on
Man, epistle i. line 16._

[224-1] See Book iv. line 75.

[224-2] Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.--GRAY: _The
Bard, i. 2, line 6._

[226-1] Aristophanes turns Socrates into ridicule . . . as making
the worse appear the better reason.--DIOGENES LAERTIUS: _Socrates,

[226-2] Our hope is loss, our hope but sad despair.--SHAKESPEARE:
_Henry VI. part iii. act ii. sc. 3._

[227-1] Rubente dextera.--HORACE: _Ode i. 2, 2._

[230-1] Compare great things with small.--VIRGIL: _Eclogues, i.
24_; _Georgics, iv. 176_. COWLEY: _The Motto._ DRYDEN: _Ovid,
Metamorphoses, book i. line 727._ TICKELL: _Poem on Hunting._
POPE: _Windsor Forest._

[231-1] Ye little stars! hide your diminished rays.--POPE: _Moral
Essays, epistle iii. line 282._

[232-1] See Herrick, page 203.

[232-2] Necessity is the argument of tyrants, it is the creed of
slaves.--WILLIAM PITT: _Speech on the India Bill, November, 1783._

[234-1] When unadorned, adorned the most.--THOMSON: _Autumn, line

[238-1] "But most of all respect thyself."--A precept of the

[239-1] Stern daughter of the voice of God.--WORDSWORTH: _Ode to

[240-1] Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes (Neither fear nor wish
for your last day).--MARTIAL: _lib. x. epigram 47, line 13._

[241-1] The child is father of the man.--WORDSWORTH: _My Heart
Leaps up._

[245-1] See Shakespeare, page 56.

[247-1] Erant quibus appetentior famæ videretur, quando etiam
sapientibus cupido gloriæ novissima exuitur (Some might consider
him as too fond of fame, for the desire of glory clings even to
the best of men longer than any other passion) [said of Helvidius
Priscus].--TACITUS: _Historia, iv. 6._

[249-1] Wisdom married to immortal verse.--WORDSWORTH: _The
Excursion, book vii._

[251-1] See Chaucer, page 6.

[253-1] See Bacon, page 169.

[255-1] Error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left
free to combat it.--JEFFERSON: _Inaugural Address._


He [Hampden] had a head to contrive, a tongue to persuade, and a
hand to execute any mischief.[255-2]

_History of the Rebellion. Vol. iii. Book vii. § 84._


[255-2] In every deed of mischief he had a heart to resolve, a
head to contrive, and a hand to execute.--GIBBON: _Decline and
Fall of the Roman Empire, chap. xlviii._

Heart to conceive, the understanding to direct, or the hand to
execute.--_From Junius, letter xxxvii. Feb. 14, 1770._


Her feet beneath her petticoat
Like little mice stole in and out,[256-1]
As if they feared the light;
But oh, she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter-day
Is half so fine a sight.

_Ballad upon a Wedding._

Her lips were red, and one was thin;
Compared with that was next her chin,--
Some bee had stung it newly.

_Ballad upon a Wedding._

Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Prithee, why so pale?


'T is expectation makes a blessing dear;
Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were.

_Against Fruition._

She is pretty to walk with,
And witty to talk with,
And pleasant, too, to think on.

_Brennoralt. Act ii._

Her face is like the milky way i' the sky,--
A meeting of gentle lights without a name.

_Brennoralt. Act iii._

But as when an authentic watch is shown,
Each man winds up and rectifies his own,
So in our very judgments.[256-2]

_Aglaura. Epilogue._

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.[256-3]

_The Goblins._

Nick of time.

_The Goblins._

"High characters," cries one, and he would see
Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor e'er will be.[257-1]

_The Goblins. Epilogue._


[256-1] See Herrick, page 202.

'T is with our judgments as our watches,--none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.

POPE: _Essay on Criticism, part i. line 9._

[256-3] See Shakespeare, page 147.

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.

POPE: _Essay on Criticism, part ii. line 53._

There 's no such thing in Nature, and you 'll draw
A faultless monster which the world ne'er saw.

SHEFFIELD: _Essay on Poetry._


He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all.[257-2]

_My Dear and only Love._

I 'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword.[257-3]

_My Dear and only Love._


That puts it not unto the touch
To win or lose it all.

NAPIER: _Montrose and the Covenanters, vol. ii. p. 566._

I 'll make thee famous by my pen,
And glorious by my sword.

SCOTT: _Legend of Montrose, chap. xv._

SIR JOHN DENHAM. 1615-1668.

Though with those streams he no resemblance hold,
Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold;
His genuine and less guilty wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his shore.

_Cooper's Hill. Line 165._

Oh, could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without rage; without o'erflowing, full.

_Cooper's Hill. Line 189._

Actions of the last age are like almanacs of the last year.

_The Sophy. A Tragedy._

But whither am I strayed? I need not raise
Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise;
Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built;
Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt
Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign,
Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.[258-1]

_On Mr. John Fletcher's Works._


Poets are sultans, if they had their will;
For every author would his brother kill.

ORRERY: _Prologues_ (according to Johnson).

Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.

POPE: _Prologue to the Satires, line 197._

RICHARD CRASHAW. _Circa_ 1616-1650.

The conscious water saw its God and blushed.[258-2]


Whoe'er she be,
That not impossible she,
That shall command my heart and me.

_Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._

Where'er she lie,
Locked up from mortal eye,
In shady leaves of destiny.

_Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._

Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.

_Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._

Life that dares send
A challenge to his end,
And when it comes, say, Welcome, friend!

_Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._

Sydneian showers
Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.

_Wishes to his Supposed Mistress._

A happy soul, that all the way
To heaven hath a summer's day.

_In Praise of Lessius's Rule of Health._

The modest front of this small floor,
Believe me, reader, can say more
Than many a braver marble can,--
"Here lies a truly honest man!"

_Epitaph upon Mr. Ashton._


[258-2] Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit (The modest Nymph saw
the god, and blushed).--_Epigrammationa Sacra. Aquæ in vinum
versæ, p. 299._


Oh, could you view the melody
Of every grace
And music of her face,[259-1]
You 'd drop a tear;
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye
Than now you hear.

_Orpheus to Beasts._

I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Lov'd I not honour more.

_To Lucasta, on going to the Wars._

When flowing cups pass swiftly round
With no allaying Thames.[259-2]

_To Althea from Prison, ii._

Fishes that tipple in the deep,
Know no such liberty.

_To Althea from Prison, ii._

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above
Enjoy such liberty.

_To Althea from Prison, iv._


[259-1] See Browne, page 218.

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