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

Line 39

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

Line 49

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

Line 61.

Save the cricket on the hearth.

Line 82.

Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.

Line 99.

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

Line 103

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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles.

Line 25

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

Line 31.

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

Line 85.

Towered cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men.

Line 117

Ladics, whose bright eyes Rain influence.

Line 121.

Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Jonson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakspere, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.

Line 131

And ever, against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,
Such as the meeting soul may pierce

In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.

Line 135.

The hidden soul of harmony.

Line 144.


As ever in my great task-master's eye.

Sonnet vii.

That old man eloquent.

Sonnet x.

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.

Sonnet xi. License they mean when they cry liberty. Sornet xii.

Peace hath her victories No less renowned than war.

Sonnet xvi.

They also serve who only stand and wait.

Sonnet xix.

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

Sonnet xxii.

Of which all Europe rings from side to side. Sonnet xxii.

But O, as to embrace me she inclined,
I waked ; she fled ; and day brought back my night.

Sonnet xxiii.

Under a star-y pointing pyramid.
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame.

Epitaph on Skakspere.



WILLIAM BASSE. 1613-1648.


, lie a thought more nigh

To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakspere in your threefold, fourfold tomb.

On Shakspere.

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SEE them walking in an air of glory

Whose light doth trample on my days; My days which are at best but dull and hoary,

Mere glimmering and decays. They are all


Dear beauteous death ; the jewel of the just.


And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams
Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,
And into glory peep.




THOUGH this may be play to you,

'Tis death to us.*

Fables from several Authors. Fable 398.

* One man's anguish is another's sport.


Satire vii

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We grant

, altho' he had much wit,

He was very shy of using it.

Part i. Carito i. Line 45. Besides, 't is known he could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak. That Latin was no more difficile, Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle.

Part i. Canto i. Line 51. He could distinguish, and divide A hair, 'twixt south and southwest side.

Part i. Canto i. Line 67. For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope.

Part i. Canto i. Line 81. Whatever sceptic could inquire for, For every why he had a wherefore.

Part i. Canto i. Line 131. He knew what's what, and that's as high As metaphysic wit can fly. Part i. Canto i. Line 149.

Such as take lodgings in a head
That's to be let unfurnished.*

Part i. Canto i. Line 161.

And prove their doctrine orthodox,
By Apostolic blows and knocks. Part i. Canto i. Line 199.

* Often the cockloft is empty, in those which nature hath built many stories high.--FULLER. Holy and Profane States. E. v. ch. xviii.

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