9 10 Into this wild abyss, The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave. MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. II. L. 910. 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 expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. III. L. 40. 11 And liquid lapse of murmuring streams. MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 263. 12 Accuse not Nature, she hath done her part; MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 561. 13 Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way; she better understands her own affairs than we. MONTAIGNE Essays. Experience. All are but parts of one stupendous whole, POPE-Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 267. |