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His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.

On the Death of Crashaw. God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.*

The Garden Essay v. We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine ;

But search of deep philosophy,

Wit, eloquence, and poetry;
Arts which I loved, for they, my friend, were thine.

On the Death of Mr. William Harvey.
The thirsty earth soaks up the rain
And drinks and gapes for drink again ;
The plants suck in the earth, and are
With constant drinking fresh and fair.

From Anacreon.


Should every creature drink but I ?
Why, man of morals, tell me why?


His time is forever, everywhere his place.

Friendship in Absence.
Hence ye profane, I hate ye all,
Both the great vulgar and the small.

Horace. Book iii. Ode i.

* God made the country, and man made the town.

COWPER. The Task.

Book i.


EDMUND WALLER. 1605-1687.
HE soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, *
Lets in new light through chinks that time has

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become,
As they draw near to their eternal home.

Verses upon his Divinc l'oesy. Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath received our yoke.

Upon the Death of the Lord Protector. A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair ! Give me but what this ribbon bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round. On a Girdle.

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

Go, lovely Kose.


That eagle's fate and mine are one,

Whi on the shaft that made him dic,
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.+

To a Lady singing a Song of his composing. * 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.

FULLER. Holy and Profare States. Book i. ch. ii. + So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,

No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart.

BYRON. English. Bards.
Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom ;

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

While I listen to thy voice.

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E either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all.

Song, Aly Dear and only Love.
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword.


JOHN MILTON. 1608-1674.




F Man's first disobedience and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world and all our woe.

Book i. Linc I.

See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart
Which rank corruption destines for their heart.

T. Moore. Corruption.

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

i. ne 10.

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.

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. Booki. Line 22.

As far as Angel's ken.

Book i. Line 59.

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

Book i, Line 62.

Where peace

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

Book i. Line 65.

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

Booki. Line 105.

To be wcak is miserable Doing or suffering.

Book i. Line 157

And out of good still to find means of evil.

Book i. Line 165

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

Book i. Line 249. A mind not to be changed by place or time. The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

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.

Book i. Line 261.

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

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.

Book i. Line
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades
High over-arched imbower.

Book i. Line 303.


Awake! arise! or be forever fallen !

book i. Line 330.

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

Book i. Line 423.

Execute their airy purposes.

Book i. Line 430.

When night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Book i. Line 300.

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