We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.
* * * * *
ABRAHAM COWLEY.
1618-1667.
_The Waiting-Maid_.
Th' adorning thee with so much art
Is but a barb'rous skill;
'Tis like the poisoning of a dart,
Too apt before to kill.
* * * * *
_The Motto_.
What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?
* * * * *
_On the Death of Crashaw_.
His _faith_, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his _life_, I'm sure, was in the right.
* * * * *
_The Garden_. Essay V.
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
* * * * *
SIR JOHN DENHAM.
1615-1679.
_Cooper's Hill_.
O 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.
* * * * *
_The Sophy_. _A Tragedy_.
Actions of the last age are like Almanacs of the last year.
* * * * *
THOMAS CAREW.
1589-1639.
_Disdain Returned_.
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
* * * * *
_Conquest by Flight_.
Then fly betimes, for only they
Conquer love, that run away.
* * * * *
EDMUND WALLER.
1605-1687.
_Verses upon his Divine Poesy_.
The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light through chinks that time has made.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become,
As they draw near to their eternal home.
* * * * *
_On a Girdle_.
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.
* * * * *
_Go, Lovely Rose_.
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
* * * * *
_To a Lady, Singing a Song of his Composing_.
The 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.
* * * * *
MILTON.
1608-1674.
PARADISE LOST.
Book i. Line 10.
Or if Sion hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God.
Book i. Line 22.
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.
Book i. Line 62.
Yet from those flames
No light; but only darkness visible.
Book i. Line 65.
Where peace
And rest can never dwell: hope never comes,
That comes to all.
Book i. Line 105.
What though the field be lost?
All is not lost.
Book i. Line 254.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
Book i. Line 261.
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 275.
Heard so oft
In worst extremes and on the perilous edge
Of battle.
Book i. Line 303.
Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades
High over-arched imbower.
Book i. Line 330.
Awake, arise, or be forever fallen!
Book i. Line 540.
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds.
Book i. Line 550.
In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders.
Book i. Line 619.
Thrice he essayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.
Book i. Line 742.
From morn
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day.
Book ii. Line 113.
But all was false and hollow, though his tongue
Dropped manna; and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels.
Book ii. Line 300.
With grave
Aspéct he rose, and in his rising seemed
A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat and public care.
Book ii. Line 306.
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.
Book ii. Line 560.
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute.
Book ii. Line 666.
The other shape,
If shape it might be called that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb.
Book ii. Line 681.
Whence and what art them, execrable shape?
Book ii. Line 846.
And Death
Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be filled.
Book ii. Line 996.
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded.
Book iii. Line 1.
Hail, holy light! offspring of Heaven first-born.
Book iii. Line 44.
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.
Book iii. Line 495.
Since called
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.
Book iv. Line 34.
At whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads.
Book iv. Line 76.
And in the lowest deep, a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Book iv. Line 108.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost:
Evil, be thou my good.
Book iv. Line 297.
For contemplation he, and valor, formed,
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace.
Book iv. Line 300.
His fair large front and eye sublime declared
Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks
Bound from his parted forelock manly hung
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad.
Book iv. Line 506.
Imparadised in one another's arms.
Book iv, Line 598.
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad.
Book iv. Line 639.
With thee conversing, I forget all time,
All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Book iv. Line 677.
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep,
Book iv. Line 750.
Hail, wedded love, mysterious law; true source
Of human happiness.
Book iv. Line 830,
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,
The lowest of your throng.
Book v. Line 1.
Now morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl.
Book v. Line 71.
Good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows.
Book v. Line 153.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good
Book v. Line 331,
So saying, with dispatchful look, in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.
Book v. Line 601.
Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.
Book v. Line 637.
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Quaff immortality and joy.
Book vi. Line 211.
Dire was the noise
Of conflict.
Book vii. Line 30.
Still govern thou my song,
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
Book viii. Line 84.
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb.
Book viii. Line 488.
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.
Book viii. Line 502.
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth,
That would be wooed and not unsought be won.
Book viii. Line 548.
So well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best!
Book viii. Line 600.
Those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies, that daily flow
From all her words and actions.
Book viii. Line 618.
To whom the angel, with a smile that glowed
Celestial rosy red (love's proper Hue)
Book ix. Line 249.
For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.
Book x. Line 77.
Yet I shall temper so
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.
Book xii. Line 646.
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
* * * * *
PARADISE REGAINED.
Book iv Line 240.
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence.
Book iv. Line 267.
Thence to the famous orators repair,
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democraty,
Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece,
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.
Book iv. Line 330.
As children gathering pebbles on the shore.
* * * * *
SAMSON AGONISTES.
Line 293.
Just are the ways of God,
And justifiable to men.
Line 1350.
He's gone, and who knows how he may report
Thy words, by adding fuel to the flame?
* * * * *
COMUS.
Line 205.
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 221.
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
Line 244.
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould
Breathe such divine, enchanting ravishment?
Line 256.
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul
And lap it in Elysium.
Line 381.
He that has light within his own clear breast
May sit i' th' center and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts
Benighted walks under the midday sun,
Line 476.
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 560.
I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the rib of Death.
* * * * *
LYCIDAS.
Line 10.
He knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Line 14.
Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Line 70.
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble minds)
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 101.
Built in the eclipse and rigged with curses dark.
Line 109.
The pilot of the Galilean lake.
Line 168.
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
Line 198.
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
* * * * *
L'ALLEGRO.
Line 27.
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles.
Line 33.
Come, and trip it as you go,
On the light, fantastic toe.
Line 67.
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Line 79.
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The Cynosure of neighboring eyes.
Line 117.
Towered cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men.
Line 133.
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
Line 136.
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.
* * * * *
IL PENSEROSO.
Line 39.
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
Line 61.
Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
Line 106.
Such notes, as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.
Line 120.
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Line 159.
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim, religious light.
* * * * *
_Sonnet to the Lady Margaret Ley_.
That old man eloquent.
* * * * *
_Sonnet on his Blindness_.
They also serve who only stand and wait.
* * * * *
_Second Sonnet to Cyriac Skinner_.
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 on his Deceased Wife_.
But oh! as to embrace me she inclined,
I waked; she fled; and day brought back my night.
SAMUEL BUTLER.
1612-1680.
_Hudibras_.
Part i. Canto i. Line 51
Besides, 'tis known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs squeak.
Part i. Canto i. Line 67
He could distinguish, and divide
A hair, 'twixt south and southwest side.
Part i. Canto i. Line 81
For rhetoric, he could not ope
His mouth, but out there flew a trope.
Part i. Canto i. Line 131.
Whatever sceptic could inquire for,
For every why he had a wherefore.
Part i. Canto i. Line 149
He knew whit's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.
Part i. Canto i. Line 199
And prove their doctrine orthodox
By Apostolic blows and knocks.
Part i. Canto i. Line 215
Compound for sins they are inclined to,
By damning those they have no mind to.
Part i. Canto i. Line 463
For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their
courses.
Part i. Canto i. Line 489
He ne'er considered it, as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth.
Part i. Canto i. Line 821
Quoth Hudibras, "I smell a rat;
Ralpho, thou dost prevaricate."
Part i. Canto i. Line 852
Or shear swine, all cry and no wool.
Part i. Canto ii. Line 633
And bid the devil take the hin'most,
Which at this race is like to win most.
Part i. Canto ii. Line 831
With many a stiff thwack, many a bang,
Hard crab-tree and old iron rang.
Part i. Canto iii. Line 1
Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron.
Part i. Canto iii. Line 263
Nor do I know what is become
Of him, more than the Pope of Rome.
Part i. Canto iii. Line 309
H' had got a hurt
O' th' inside of a deadlier sort.
Part i. Canto iii. Line 877
I am not now in fortune's power;
He that is down can fall no lower.
Part i. Canto iii. Line 1367
Thou hast
Outrun the Constable at last.
Part ii. Canto i. Line 29
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think's sufficient at one time.
Part ii. Canto i. Line 465
For what is worth in anything,
But so much money as 'twill bring.
Part ii. Canto n. Line 29
The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn.
Part ii. Canto ii. Line 79
Have always been at daggers-drawing.
And one another clapper-clawing.
Part ii. Canto ii Line 503
And look before you ere you leap;
For as you sow, y' are like to reap.
Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1.
Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated, as to cheat.
Part ii. Canto iii. Line 261.
He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no....
And prove that she's not made of green cheese.[6]
[Note 6: "The moon is made of a green cheese"
_Jack Jugler_, p. 46.]
Part ii. Canto iii. Line 580
You have a wrong sow by the ear.
Part ii. Canto iii. Line 923
To swallow gudgeons ere they're catched,
And count their chickens ere they're hatched.
Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1067
As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honor 's lodged,
As wise philosophers have judged,
Because a kick in that place more
Hurts honor than deep wounds before,
Part iii. Canto i. Line 3
As he that has two strings t' his bow.
Part iii. Canto ii. Line 175.
True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not sinned upon.
Part iii. Canto iii. Line 243
For those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain.
* * * * *
Part iii. Canto iii. Line 547
He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still.
* * * * *
MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.
1612-1650.
_Song_, "_My Dear and only Love_."
I'll make thee famous by my pen,
And glorious by my sword.
* * * * *
DRYDEN.
1631-1700.
_Alexander's feast_.
Line 15.
None but the brave deserves the fair.
Line 60.
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
Line 66.
Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice
he slew the slain.
Line 78,
Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood;
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
Line 96.
For pity melts the mind to love.
Line 99.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor, but an empty bubble.
Line 106.
Take the good the gods provide thee.
Line 120
Sighed and looked, and sighed again.
Line 154.
And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.
Line 160.
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
Line 169.
He raided a mortal to the skies
She drew an angel down.
* * * * *
_Cymon and Iphigenia_.
Line 84.
He trudged along, unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
_Absalom and Achitophet_.
A fiery soul, which, working out its way
Fretted the pigmy body to decay,
And o'er informed the tenement of clay.
Part i. Line 363
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Part i. Line 174
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state.
Part i. Line 534
Who think too little, and who talk too much
Part i. Line 545
A man so various, that he seemed to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome;
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong,
Was everything by starts, and nothing long.
Part i. Line 1005
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Part ii. Line 463
For every inch, that is not fool, is rogue.
* * * * *
_All for Love_. Prologue.
Errors like straws upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls must dive below.
Act iv. Sc. 1.
Men are but children of a larger growth.
_Conquest of Grenada_. Part i. Sc. 1.
I am as free as nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
* * * * *
_Spanish Friar_. Act ii. Sc. 1.
There is a pleasure
In being mad which none but madmen know.
_Don Sebastian_. Act i. Sc. 1.
This is the porcelain clay of human kind.
* * * * *
_Translation of Juvenal's 10th Satire_.
Look round the habitable world, how few
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue.
* * * * *
_Prologue to Lee's Sophonisba_.
Thespis, the first professor of our art,
At country wakes sung ballads from a cart.
* * * * *
_Imitation of the 29th of Horace_.
Book i. Line 65.
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He, who can call to-day his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day.
* * * * *
_On Milton_.
Three Poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn;
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed,
The next in majesty, in both the last.
The force of nature could no further go;
To make a third she joined the other two.
* * * * *
JOHN BUNYAN.
1628-1688.
_Apology for his Book_.
And so I penned
It down, until at last it came to be,
For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.
* * * * *
Some said, "John, print it," others said,
"Not so."
Some said, "It might do good," others said,
"No."
* * * * *
_Pilgrim's Progress_.
The Slough of Despond.
* * * * *
EARL OF ROSCOMMON.
1633-1684.
_Essay on Translated Verse_.
Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.
* * * * *
EARL OF ROCHESTER.
_Written on the Bedchamber Door of Charles II_.
Here lies our sovereign lord the king,
Whose word no man relies on;
He never says a foolish thing,
Nor ever does a wise one.
* * * * *
KING CHARLES II.
_Written in Parliament attending the Discussion of Lord Boss' Divorce
Bill_.
As good as a play.
* * * * *
SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.
1649-1721.
_Essay on Poetry_.
Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
There's no such thing in nature, and you'll draw
A faultless monster, which the world ne'er saw.
* * * * *
Read Homer once, and you can read no more,
For all books else appear so mean, so poor;
Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read,
And Homer will be all the books you need.
* * * * *
THOMAS OTWAY.
1651-1685.
_Venice Preserved_.
Act i. Sc. 1.
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee
To temper man; we had been brutes without you.
Angels are painted fair to look like you.
* * * * *
JOHN NORRIS.
1657-1711.
_The Parting_.
How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone;
But those which soonest take their flight
Are the most exquisite and strong;
Like angel's visits, short and bright,
Mortality's too weak to bear them long.
* * * * *
NATHANIEL LEE.
1655-1692.
_Alexander the Great_.
Act i. Sc. 3.
Then he will talk--ye gods, how he will talk!
Act iv. Sc. 2.
When Greeks joined Greeks, then was the tug of war.
* * * * *
TOM BROWN.
--1704.
_Dialogues of the Dead_.
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this alone I know full well,
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell.[7]
[Note 7: "Non amo te, Sabidi, nee possum dicere quare;
Hoc tautum possum dicere, non amo te."
_Martial_, Ep. I. xxxiii.]
* * * * *
THOMAS SOUTHERN.
1659-1746.
_Oroonoka_.
Act ii. Sc. 1.
Pity's akin to love.
DANIEL DEFOE.
1661-1731.
_The True-Born Englishman_.
Part i. Line 1
Wherever God erects a house of prayer,
The Devil always builds a chapel there;
And 'twill be found upon examination,
The latter has the largest congregation.
* * * * *
LOUIS THEOBALD.
1688-1744.
_The Double Falsehood_.
None but himself can be his parallel.
* * * * *
MATTHEW PRIOR.
1664-1721.
_English Padlock_.
Be to her virtues very kind;
Be to her faults a little blind.
* * * * *
_Henry and Emma_.
That air and harmony of shape express,
Fine by degrees, and beautifully less.
* * * * *
_The Thief and the Cordelier_.
Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart,
And often took leave; but was loth to depart.
_Epilogue to Lucius_.
And the gray mare will prove the better horse.[8]
[Note 8: See Hudibras, Part ii. Canto ii. line 698. Mr. Macaulay
thinks that this proverb originated in the preference generally given to
the gray mares of Flanders over the finest coach-horses of
England.--History of England, Vol. I. Ch. 3.]
* * * * *
_Imitations of Horace_.
Of two evils I have chose the least.
* * * * *
_Epitaph on Himself_.
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior;
The son of Adam and of Eve:
Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?
* * * * *
_Ode in Imitation of Horace_. B. iii. Od. 2.
And virtue is her own reward.
* * * * *
COLLEY CIBBER.
1671-1757.
_Richard III_.
Act iv. Sc. 3.
Off with his head! so much for Buckingham!
Act v. Sc. 3.
Richard is himself again!
* * * * *
JOSEPH ADDISON.
1672-1719.
CATO.
Act i. Sc. 1.
The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers,
And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
The great, th' important day, big with the fate
Of Cato, and of Home.
Act i. Sc. 1.
Thy steady temper, Portius,
Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Caesar,
In the calm lights of mild philosophy.
Act i. Sc. 1.
'Tis not in mortals to command success,
But we'll do more, Sempronius: we'll deserve it.
Act i. Sc. 1.
'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;
I think the Romans call it Stoicism.
Act i. Sc. 1.
Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
The pale unripened beauties of the North.
Act ii. Sc. 1.
My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman Senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
Act iv. Sc. 1.
The woman that deliberates is lost.
Act iv. Sc. 2.
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honor is a private station.
Act v. Sc. 1.
It must be so.--Plato, thou reasonest well.
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
* * * * *
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to man.
Act v. Sc. I.
I'm weary of conjectures.
Act v. Sc. 1.
The soul secured in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
Act v. Sc. 1.
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds
* * * * *
_The Campaign_.
And, pleased th' Almighty's orders to perform
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.[9]
* * * * *
[Note 9: This line has been frequently ascribed to Pope, as it is
found in the Dunciad, Book iii., line 261.]
_From the Letter on Italy_.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravished eyes,
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise;
Poetic fields encompass me around,
And still I seem to tread on classic ground.[10]
[Note 10: Malone states that this was the first time the phrase
_classic ground_, since so common, was ever used.]
* * * * *
_Ode_.
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue, ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
* * * * *
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their tarn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
* * * * *
Forever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
1667-1745.
_Imitation of Horace_. B. ii. Sat. 6.
I've often wished that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end.
* * * * *
_Poetry, a Rhapsody_.
So geographers, in Afric maps,
With savage pictures fill their gaps,
And o'er unhabitable downs
Place elephants for want of towns.
* * * * *
WILLIAM CONGREVE.
1669-1729.
_The Mourning Bride_. Act i. Sc. 1.
Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.
To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
* * * * *
By magic numbers and persuasive sound.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.
ALEXANDER POPE.
1688-1744.
ESSAY ON MAN.
Epistle i. Line 5.
Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan.
Line 13.
Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rise.
Line 88.
A hero perish or a sparrow fall.
Line 95.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never _is_, but always _to be_ blest.
Line 99.