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303 psl. - Where some, like magistrates correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in. their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor...
295 psl. - The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity. Lo, earth receives him from the bending skies ! Sink down, ye mountains ; and ye valleys, rise ! With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay ; Be smooth, ye rocks ; ye rapid floods, give way. The Saviour comes ! by ancient bards foretold ! Hear Him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold ! He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, And on the sightless eyeball pour the day: 'Tis he the obstructed paths of sound shall clear, And bid new music charm th' unfolding...
304 psl. - And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befallen us. As we paced along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, Into the tumbling billows of the main.
298 psl. - If thou art rich, thou art poor ; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee.
302 psl. - And nothing can we call our own but death ; And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
299 psl. - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
313 psl. - tis nought to me; Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full ; And where He vital breathes, there must be joy. When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go Where universal love not smiles around, Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression.
302 psl. - No matter where ; of comfort no man speak : Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs ; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
301 psl. - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.