Page images

And over them triumphant Death his dart
Shook, but delayed to strike, though oft invoked.

Book xi. Line 491.

The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.

Book xii, Line 646.


Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise.

Book iii. Line 56. Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.

Book iv. Line 240.

Thence to the famous orators repair,
These ancient, whose resistiess eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democraty,
Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece,
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne. Book iv. Lire 267.

As children gathering pebbles on the shore.

Book iv. Line 330.


And silent as the moon,
When she deserts the night
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Line 87

Ran on imbattled armies clad in iron.

Line 129.

Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men.

Line 293.

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

Line 56o.

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

Line 1359.

For evil news rides post, while good news bates.

Line 1538.

Tame villatic fowl.

Line 1695.


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

Line 5.

That golden key That opes the palace of eternity.

Line 13

Midnight shout and revelry,
Tipsy dance and jollity.

Line 103.

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

Line 205

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

Line 221.

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

Line 249

Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul,
And lap it in Elysium.

Line 256,

Such sober certainty of waking bliss.

Line 263.

Virtue could see to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk.

Line 373.

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 mid-day sun. Line 81.

The unsunned heaps Of miser's treasure.

Line 398.

So dear to heaven is saintly chastity,
That, when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lackey her.

Line 453


How charming is divine philosophy !
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose ;
But musical as is Apollo's lute,*
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.

Line 476.

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

Line 560.

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

Line 597

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?

Line 752.

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

Line 790.

His rod reversed, And backward mutters of dissevering power. ' Line 816.

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

Line Ic12.


I come to pluck your berries, harsh and crude,
And, with forced fingers rude,
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Line 3.

* As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute.

Love's Labour's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3.

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

Line Io.

Without the meed of some melodious tear.

Line 14.

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

Line 68.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(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 the abhorred shears,
And slits the thin-spun life.

Line 70.

Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.

Line 78.

Built in the eclipse and rigged with curses dark.

Line 101.

The pilot of the Galilean lake.

Line 109.

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.

Line 168.

To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. Line 193.


The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

Line 8.

« PreviousContinue »